“I’m done for,” he said with gentle insistence. “There’s no time for you to run. Phillip must have been captured or he’d have been waiting here for us. You need to take the gun and when you see the soldiers, shoot me. Tell them I killed their man there. And you took my gun and shot me. They’ll have to believe you if they see it with their own eyes.”
“John. I can’t…” Her breath caught and she pressed the back of a bloodied hand to her mouth.
“Yes, my love. You can.” His breaths were coming in short bursts now. He couldn’t seem to get enough air. Elizabet had taken on an almost ethereal quality. Her face faded a bit, edged in a glowing light. He smiled at her. “You look like an angel.”
He reached up to cup her face and she pressed her cheek against his hand. “You can’t leave me. I love you,” she said, pain coating every word.
His fading heart jumped in his chest. Then faltered.
She turned her face so she could kiss his palm. “You said you were a man of honor. You promised you’d always protect me. Always.”
John smiled. “And so I shall, love. With my dying breath.”
A faint breeze blew over them, bringing with it the faint echo of the commander and his men.
“Now,” John said. He grabbed the pistol from where she had dropped it beside him and pressed it into her hand. Then he used the last of his strength to haul himself to his feet.
She lunged forward, sealed her mouth to his and kissed him with a passion born of love and desperation. Then she wrenched herself away, tears streaming down her beautiful face as she back away from him. She raised the gun.
The soldiers poured from the maze. John didn’t take his eyes from Elizabet, or she from his. He gave her a slow, sad smile. She pulled the trigger. A scream of anguish and rage rent the air, the sound ripped from her throat as John crumpled to the ground.
The soldiers shouted, rushed at them. Elizabet fell to her knees, dropping the gun to cover her face.
Then John saw no more.
Chapter Eight
Elizabet had not left her room since that day two weeks before. Life was unlivable. Made more so by her father’s gloating. He’d been the one to tip off the soldiers. He’d seen the way Elizabet had looked at John those few times she’d seen him at court after she’d returned from the cottage. It had been enough for her father to look into him. To discover the mysterious circumstances of John’s wealth. The soldier she’d shot had told his commander about recognizing her. As the cottage was on John’s family estate, that was all Lord Harding needed to seal John’s fate.
Elizabet paced her chambers, unable to eat, unable to sleep. John had survived his wounds. She hadn’t shot him. How could she? But with her screaming like a wild woman, no one had noticed her shot going wide and disappearing through the shrubbery behind John. Luckily, no one had been standing on the other side.
John lived. That was the one hope she clung to. He lived. But he’d been exposed as a highwayman. Many called for him to swing from the gallows at Tyburn, Lord Harding chief among those voices. However, John’s friendship with the king and years of service to the crown had bought him some leniency. He could not go unpunished. But they might let him live.
Either way, she’d never see him again. If he lived, he’d either be imprisoned for the rest of his life, or exiled. No one seemed eager to share any news of him with her. She might never know what befell him. Yet still, hope flared in her heart. Just let him live.
A knock sounded on her door and Elizabet sighed. “I’m not hungry,” she said, hoping whoever it was went away.
The door opened and Elizabet pinned the intruder with a furious gaze. A twinge of guilt ran through her at the fearful hesitation in her maid’s eyes. She’d never been cross with Lucy before. But she had no wish to be disturbed and Lucy had been made well aware of that fact.
“Pardon, my lady. But there is a visitor downstairs…”
“I wish to see no one. Send them away.”
“My lady, forgive me, but I think you’ll want to see this person.”
Elizabet was about to send the maid away but curiosity got the better of her. “Why is that?”
“He didn’t come to the front door, my lady. He came to the kitchens and asked for me. He said to tell you,” she frowned as though trying to remember the exact words, “his name is Phillip and that you have a mutual friend of whom he has news.”
Elizabet was already pushing passed Lucy, the tiny flame of hope in her heart bursting into an inferno. “Where is he, Lucy?”
“Waiting in the kitchens, my lady.”
Elizabet didn’t waste time with any more questions. She flew down the back stairs, skirts bundled in her arms, Lucy close on her heels. When she saw Phillip in the kitchen she stopped short. He was thinner, pale, with dark circles beneath his eyes. He hadn’t had an easy time of it. But he was there, free. And smiling.
“My lady,” he said, removing his hat as he bowed.
“You have news?” She knew she should probably ask after him. He’d been taken, along with John. But she couldn’t wait for social niceties.
Phillip nodded. “He is to be exiled.”
Relief flooded through Elizabet with such force her knees gave way and she sank into the chair Phillip had just vacated. He would live. But…exile. He would leave England, would never return. She would never see him again. She hadn’t thought it possible for her heart to break more than it already had, yet the pain struck her sharp and deep. She clung to the thought of his face, smiling down at her.
“He asked me to give you this,” Phillip said, handing her a letter.
“Thank you.” She took it and held it close to her bosom. She’d wait until she was in the privacy of her own room before she read it.
“I must leave, my lady. I’ll be accompanying Lord Ramsay. We leave with the tide.”
Elizabet’s gaze shot to his. “So soon?”
“Aye. The king felt it best that he be gone as soon as possible. Hoping it will appease his enemies, I believe.”
“Where will he be going?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Would it help to know where he would be? Or make it worse?
“Oh, France at first. From there, my lord hasn’t quite made up his mind. Seems right lost, truth be told. Not to be leaving, mind you. My lord always did have an adventurous heart. I reckon he’ll do well no matter where he ends up. Still though, it could be a long, lonely journey for a man on his own. Though, he does have a private cabin on the ship. It’s small, to be sure, but I’m sure there is room if he were to find a companion…”
Her heart pounded in her chest and she looked around the kitchen to see if they could be overheard. Lucy stood nearby, ensuring their privacy. Elizabet turned back to Phillip. “He said he wants me to join him?”
“He did not specifically say so, no. However,” he said, before Elizabet could despair too much, “my lord is an honorable man. He would never suggest you leave the comfort of your home for an unknown life with an outlaw. No matter how much he may want you with him.”
Elizabet sat back in her chair. He wanted her. That’s all she needed to know. “Thank you, Phillip.”
He doffed his hat again and turned to leave. “A few hours, my lady. No more.”
She nodded, understanding his unspoken warning. She didn’t have much time to make the most important decision of her life.
Chapter Nine
Elizabet stood on the dock, mesmerized by the waves that pounded in time with her heart. She tasted salt on her lips. Whether it came from the sea spraying on her face or from her tears, she didn’t know. She couldn’t do it. But the thought of turning around and going back to her life as though nothing had happened was intolerable. She must do it.
She stepped closer to the gangplank, gripping the handle of her case with white knuckles. Other passengers and crew passed her. And still she stood.
“Are you coming aboard, Miss?”
Elizabet looked up at the crewman who’d addressed her. “I
…I –”
“No, she is not.”
Elizabet’s gaze shot to the man coming down the gangplank. Her red-rimmed eyes met John’s furious gaze and her hesitation evaporated.
“Oh yes I am.” She stepped onto the walkway but John blocked her path.
“Elizabet.” His harsh whisper nearly broke her heart but she wouldn’t let it deter her. In fact, it made her more determined than ever.
The crewman looked back and forth between the two of them. “Is there a problem, sir?”
“Yes.”
“No.” They answered at the same time.
Elizabet thrust her satchel into the man’s hands. “Please put my bag in my husband’s room.”
She flushed red at John’s surprised intake of breath but forced herself to keep eye contact with the young crewman until he bobbed his hat at her and scurried back on board. She tried to shoulder past John but he grabbed her arm.
“I don’t know what you think you are doing, but I’m not going to allow you to throw away your life.”
“I’m not throwing away my life, John. I’m living it, for once.”
“Elizabet –”
“You won’t change my mind. I’m not going to lose you again.”
John stared at her for a moment and then slowly brought his hand up to cup her face. “You do me great honor.”
Elizabet smiled. “Then let’s go aboard, my love. Our future awaits us.”
She climbed onto the tilting deck of the ship, grateful for the firm grip John kept on her arm. He steered her to where the crewman had disappeared with her bag, drawing her in to whisper in her ear. “You told the crewman to place your belongings in my cabin which creates something of a problem.”
“What problem? I know that I’m not truly your wife just yet, but no one needs to know.”
He smiled. “Well, yes, that would be wise, however that was not the problem I meant.”
“Which would be?”
John stopped in front of a narrow door and opened it. “This is what I meant.”
Elizabet crammed her skirts through the door of the tiny cabin and looked around. Light poured in though a porthole set in one wall. A small desk and chair were against one wall. John’s trunk with her trunk atop it sat beside it and opposite the desk was a very small, very narrow bed. Her eyes lingered on the bunk. John crowded in behind her and shut the door. Suddenly, all Elizabet was aware of was the heat of him against her, and the fact that they would be crammed together in this very tiny cabin for several days, at least. Alone.
“Now do you understand?” he asked.
She shivered at his breath on her neck and leaned back against him. “No. I still don’t understand the problem.”
“Don’t you?” He turned her around, his hands gripping her arms. Elizabet licked her lips and prayed she could keep her voice steady when she answered him. “Well, the space is very limited to be sure, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”
John’s chuckle filled the tiny space. “You must think me made of iron if you believe I am strong enough to keep myself from you when we will be forced to share such close quarters.”
It was Elizabet’s turn to look surprised. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
John pulled her even closer and leaned in to nip at her earlobe. “Didn’t it?”
“I mean,” she said, putting her hands on his chest to keep some distance between them, “I never expected you to keep yourself from me.”
John’s hold on her tightened. “I’m afraid someone has been a rather bad influence on you, my lady. Considering such…recreations, without the benefit of a priest. For shame.”
Elizabet laughed quietly. “Well, I admit, I have been spending a fair amount of time with a notorious outlaw. I may have picked up a few bad habits.”
“Is that so? What sorts of things did this brigand teach you?”
Elizabet smiled slowly and leaned into him. “I’m afraid it would be utterly inappropriate to share that with anyone but my husband.”
“Ah, so you still want to marry me then?” He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.
She shivered and rose on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off her feet. The sudden lurch of the ship knocked them off balance and they bumped into the door of the cabin. “Of course I still want to marry you,” she murmured against his lips.
“Well then. We can quietly take the captain aside, once we are safely out to sea, and ask him to marry us. Or we can wait until we reach France and marry there. Whatever happens between us before we get there makes no difference.”
“Because you are my husband.”
“And you are my wife.”
“The actual ceremony might just have to wait a bit, that’s all,” Elizabet said with a laugh.
John stared at her for a moment and then gave her a slow, smoldering smile. “I love you Elizabet Harding.”
“That would be Elizabet Ramsay, if you please.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. “I just hope you don’t ever regret choosing me.”
“I’d never!”
“It may not be an easy life, Elizabet. We won’t be able to return. My lands in England are forfeit. Charles could only help me so far. We may be able to return to Scotland one day. But even that may be too close for comfort. Will you be happy never returning home? I fear you’ll regret your choice someday.”
“My home is with the man I love. I will gladly take remote hideaways, flying bullets, and all the uncertainty that has come with loving you, as long as I can lie in your arms every night, and wake to you every morning. I will never regret choosing you.”
John released the breath he was holding. “I’ll try not to disappoint you,” he said, as he claimed her lips once more.
She pulled away long enough to gaze into his eyes. “You never could. As long as I have you. That’s all I want.”
The ship lurched again and John pulled Elizabet down to the bunk with him. “Well, my love, have me you shall.”
His lips covered hers as the ship left the harbor. Neither of them noticed as England slipped away.
About the Author
Romance and non-fiction author Michelle McLean is a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl who is addicted to chocolate and Goldfish crackers and spent most of her formative years with her nose in a book. She has a B.S. in History, a M.A. in English, and loves her romance with a hearty side of suspenseful mystery. She also writes contemporary romance as Kira Archer.
When Michelle's not editing, reading or chasing her kids around, she can usually be found in a quiet corner working on her next book. She resides in PA with her husband and two children, an insanely hyper dog, and three very spoiled cats.
For more information on Michelle and her work and for a full list of places to find her, check out her website at http://michellemclean.blogspot.com.
Other Titles by Michelle McLean
To Trust a Thief (Entangled Scandalous, Jan 2013)
A Bandit’s Stolen Heart (Blood Blade Sisters #1, Entangled Scandalous, April 2013)
A Bandit’s Broken Heart (Blood Blade Sisters #2, Entangled Scandalous, July 2013)
Wish Upon a Star (Entangled Ever After, Sept 2013)
A Bandit’s Betrayed Heart (Blood Blade Sisters #3, Entangled Scandalous, January 2014)
Romancing the Rumrunner (Entangled Scandalous, June 2014)
Coming Soon: How to Lose a Highlander (Entangled Scandalous 2017)
Titles As Kira Archer
Driving Her Crazy (Crazy Love #1, Entangled Lovestruck, August 2015)
Kissing Her Crazy (Crazy Love #2, Entangled Lovestruck, October 2015)
Loving Her Crazy (Crazy Love #3, Entangled Lovestruck, January 2015)
Pretending with the Greek Billionaire’s (Entangled Indulgence, August 2016)
Truly, Madly, Sweetly (Entangled Lovestruck, April 2016)
Totally, Sweetly, Irrevocably (Entangled Lovestruck, July 2016)
Michelle McLean, A Highwayman's Honor: (A Highland Highwayman Novella #1)
A Highwayman's Honor: (A Highland Highwayman Novella #1) Page 7