How to Blackmail a Highlander

by Michelle McLean

  “We need to take care. Place extra men on guard. Perhaps increase the number of scouts.”

  John nodded and then his countenance lightened. He sucked in a deep breath and stood. “Aye, we’ll take extra precautions. But in the meantime, I believe ye have a new wife waiting for ye in yer chambers.”

  Philip scowled at his kinsman, and John laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Cousin. Go and straighten out matters with yer wife. Talk of war can wait.”

  Philip couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Not if ye wish me to have a serious discussion about the state of our relationship. War is what it’ll be.”

  “Better get to it then,” John said with a wink.

  Philip excused himself and made his way upstairs, determination and excitement rushing through him. Never had a soldier been less prepared, yet strangely eager, for battle.

  He entered their chamber to find Alice staring out the window at the scene below. She didn’t say anything but turned to give him a brief look and then resumed watching out the window. He moved to her side to see what captivated her attention.

  The sun was setting over the hills that surrounded Kirkenroch. A hint of the loch which lay near Glenlyon could just be seen over the horizon. The setting rays highlighted the rich colors of the countryside, making the landscape seem almost dreamlike.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

  “Aye, ’tis.”

  “So different from London.”

  “Too different?” he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  She looked up at him then and gave him a soft smile. “Yes. But that is a good thing.” She looked back out the window. “It’s peaceful here. So beautiful it makes my heart hurt. It’s…real.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “London…everything is all about appearances. What was beneath the surface was rarely what one saw. If there was anything there at all. Here…it seems…” She shrugged and gave a little sheepish laugh. “Pure, I suppose. Does that make sense?”

  “Aye.” It was exactly how he felt about his home. He stepped closer, so her back was nearly pressed against his chest but for the whisper of breath between them. He lightly rested his hands on her upper arms, and she leaned back against him without hesitation. They remained that way, watching the sun drop behind the hills.

  He’d wrestled with what he’d say to her. Whether he’d try to get her to stay or go. Whether he wanted her to stay or go. What would be best for them both. For her. He still didn’t know the answer.

  But he knew, at that exact moment, he wanted her. Had wanted her since the moment he’d seen her twirling in that sparkling ballroom a lifetime ago. And it seemed, for better or worse, their paths were entwined. So why did he keep fighting it? She was already his, in name at least. He merely needed to take that last step.

  If she willed it.

  He turned her in his arms, brushed her curls from her face. “Do ye wish to be my wife?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alice frowned slightly at the question. Philip stared down at her, his eyes almost daring her to say no.

  “I am your wife.”

  He shook his head and stepped back. “By law, what matters most is consent. So, our union might be legal by the letter of the law. But in my mind, intent matters just as much. Ye werena intending to be my wife forever. Ye simply wished to keep yer reputation intact. As did I. So, I dinna care what the rest of the world thinks. I care what you think. No one is here now. Just us. And no one else matters but us.”

  Alice’s heart beat so hard it was near pain. “And the witnesses?”

  Philip waved a hand. “If ye wished to return home, there are ways to do so without spoiling yer reputation. Ye’ve seen the Lady Elizabet. Assured yerself that she is happy and well. Ye’ve seen how we live. How ye’d live if ye stayed among us. Ye’ve seen enough to know what ye’d be agreeing to if ye chose to stay. What ye’d be leaving if ye chose to go.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I thought we had no other choices.”

  His lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. “I didna say they were good choices. Yer family has been informed of our union. English law likely willna acknowledge it. But ye can return home a widow. None will look too closely at yer tale, I’m sure. As long as I stayed away from court, stayed out of England.”

  “You would do that for me? Exile yourself?”

  “If ye wished to return home, aye.”

  Alice pretended to think about it for a moment. That he would offer something like that made her throat burn with unshed tears. However, she didn’t want to betray such emotion, so she smiled instead. “A widow, hmm?”

  His own lips twitched, and something told her she hadn’t fooled him for a moment.

  “Aye,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes turning a dark shade of blue that had her mesmerized. “Or ye can choose to stay. Here, with me. And so I’m askin’, do ye wish to remain my wife?”

  Alice tried to calm her breathing. Not betray the emotions threatening to erupt. “And what would happen if I say yes?”

  He gave her a predatory smile, one that filled her with an overwhelming excitement. And a healthy touch of fear. That look. It was dangerous. Thrilling. He was a hunter surveying his prey. If one so willing could be called prey.

  “Then, mistress, as yer chosen husband, I’d take ye to my bed.”

  Alice’s lungs burned with a sudden lack of oxygen, and she tried to suck in air past her rapidly beating heart. His lips hinted at a smile, as if he knew exactly what she was feeling. Maybe he did. His own breathing had sped as he watched her every movement. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Like he wanted to reach out and touch her. But wouldn’t. Until she gave him her answer.

  That he gave her the choice meant more to her than she’d ever be able to articulate. She’d been raised to do her duty. Follow her parents’ wishes without hesitation. And she’d been prepared, despite being unwilling. Had the man they’d chosen not been more likely to murder her than leave her a young and wealthy widow… Leaving home had been the first choice she’d made for herself. But it wasn’t a choice she’d been freely given. She fully believed she’d had no choice if she wanted to live. And she’d been prepared to accept whatever consequences came of her actions. Even if it meant a life of lonely exile. But one glance at the Highland warrior now before her had shown her how different her life could be. He exuded an air about him she’d never encountered before. And she wanted to bask in it. It was more than a physical attraction, though that was so strong it was taking everything she had not to throw herself into his arms.

  She’d wanted him from the moment she’d seen him at the ball. He’d been watching her with those heated eyes—his warrior’s body lithe and strong and maddeningly tempting. But it was more than that. Despite their differences, she felt safe in his company. Protected, cherished even. They might argue with every other breath. And he might not always follow her counsel or wishes. But he listened. She was more than a pretty conquest to parade around. He saw the real her. He might not always approve. But he cared enough to look.

  “There are still things to discuss,” she said.

  “Oh, aye. Many things.” His smile grew wider. “Ye needna fash I’ll expect ye to suddenly become a compliant, obedient, docile creature who’ll never give me a day o’ worry. I fully expect ye to turn my hair gray within a year from yer incessant nagging and arguments.”

  She couldn’t hold back a smile. “Well then, in that case…take me to your bed, my lord.”

  He didn’t wait for her to ask twice.

  She wore the simplest gown she owned, yet Philip’s fingers still tangled in her laces. But when she finally stepped from the last petticoat, the look in his eyes made every tug and knot worth it.

  “My God,” he breathed.

  “Are you giving thanks or praying to be saved?”

  He laughed and pulled her close. “I think I shall be giving thanks for this moment for the rest of my days. Whatever else ye may b
e, ye wee vixen, ye’re more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  His obvious appreciation burned away some of the nervousness that lingered, and she tugged at his shirt, wanting to see what she’d caught bare glimpses of before. He dragged his shirt over his head and kicked off his boots so he stood before her in nothing but his kilt. Alice explored his chest, learning every line and plane.

  “It’s a pity you have to keep this covered all day,” she murmured, leaning down to press a kiss right above his heart.

  “Oh aye?” he said with a low chuckle. “Ye dinna think I’d be a bit of a spectacle wandering about without a stitch of clothing on?”

  “Hmm, perhaps you are right,” she said, kissing the side of his neck.

  He shrugged. “I dinna think I’d ever live to see the day ye’d admit that. I can die a happy man now.”

  “Not yet you can’t,” she said, running her hands down his chest. “But you are right about being a spectacle. Crowds would come for miles. I suppose I should keep you all to myself then.”

  He threaded his hand through her hair, lightly grasping a handful at the nape of her neck to tilt her face up to him. He cupped her cheek with his other hand and lightly brushed his lips across hers. “As long as ye’re locked in the room with me, I’ll be ye’re willing prisoner.”

  He trailed his mouth across her skin, his lips barely touching, until a little moan of frustration escaped her. He smiled and moved back to her lips, this time taking a long, deep taste of her.

  He moved to the sensitive skin of her neck, and she trembled against him. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently before dropping his kilt. Alice’s eyes devoured him. He took his time joining her on the bed, letting her look her fill.

  She reached for him with greedy hands, and he chuckled again as he took her in his arms.

  “You know,” she said, her voice coming out in a breathy gasp, “this doesn’t mean I forgive you for going back on your word to bring me to Elizabet.”

  He nipped at her collarbone, his tongue darting out to taste the hollow of her throat.

  “And I dinna forgive ye for blackmailing me to bring ye in the first place.”

  Alice dragged him back to her mouth. “As long as we’re clear on those points.” Her hands ran over the taut muscles in his back, reaching down so she could explore all of him.

  “Verra clear,” he said, arching against her. She gasped, and he returned to kissing his way down her body. Her hands gripped his hair, trying to keep him captive in each new spot he kissed.

  “I still find you aggravating,” she said, writhing against him.

  “As I do you.” His mouth brushed against her breasts, and she lost the ability to speak.

  “We’ll probably never agree on anything,” she finally managed to say.

  “We seem to be fairly agreeable right now,” he said, his hand dipping lower.

  “Oh, aye,” she said, her words lost in the low moan that escaped her throat.

  He chuckled and rolled her beneath him. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around him. Whatever other point she was going to make disappeared from her mind. She couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his hands, the touch of his mouth. Even the brief moment of pain when he entered her dissolved into a delicious tension that built and built until she didn’t know where she began and he ended. She wanted it to go on forever. No more fighting, no more trying to prove who was right or who’d done what to whom first. Just this, their bodies dancing together—for once in perfect harmony.

  When the momentum finally reached its peak, she clung to him, his name almost a sob on her lips as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her. His rhythm faltered and then he joined her, her name wrung from his lips like a blessing. Or a curse. Perhaps it was both. For she felt the same. No matter how this journey had started, they had taken an irrevocable turn. One that both terrified her and filled her with hope.

  But for that one moment, as they lay together, entwined in the dark, she focused on the hope.

  …

  Philip wrapped his arms tighter about Alice and snuggled in to her neck, breathing in the fresh, soft scent of her. They sat curled up on the stone bench near the window so Alice could watch the sunrise. She couldn’t seem to get enough of watching the world outside their window. That boded well, he supposed, as she would be happier if she loved her new home.

  Alice stiffened, and he looked down at her, concern spiking through him.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “There, on the road leading to the gates.” She pointed and leaned closer to the glass, trying to see better. “A rider.”

  Philip stood. “Two riders. One horse.” And they were traveling as fast as the poor animal could carry them. He dressed quickly, and Alice followed suit. They passed a maid who had been sent up to get them as they rushed downstairs and into the great hall.

  “Rose!” Alice exclaimed. Her lady’s maid rushed to her, and Alice wrapped her arms around the trembling girl.

  “William?” Philip asked, frowning at his young kinsman. “What is wrong? What are ye doing here?”

  “And why are you with him?” Alice added, looking at Rose.

  John’s grave face put more fear in Philip than anything else could. For his jovial cousin to look so dour, something terrible must have occurred. And there was only one thing Philip could think of that would put that look on his face.

  “Ramsay.”

  John nodded, and William put down the cup he’d just drained. “He willna be far behind us. A day at the most. We rode as fast as we could but I wasna able to get away as quickly as I’d hoped. And with the horse carrying the both of us…”

  Philip clapped his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Ye did well, lad.”

  “But how did the two of you come to be together?” Alice asked, frowning at her maid. “I left you on the docks at Dover. You were supposed to have returned to my parents.”

  “I’d planned to, my lady. But then—”

  “I took her prisoner,” Will said, with a tone that suggested he’d been suffering for his actions ever since.

  “You did what?” Alice asked, taking a threatening step closer.

  “It was a misunderstanding—” he started before Rose cut in.

  “Because you jumped to conclusions, and rather than wait two minutes for me to explain, you trussed me up and hauled me off for questioning. Thinking I was a spy for Ramsay!”

  “What?” Alice gasped.

  “Oh, for the thousandth time, woman, I’m sorry. Ye have no idea how sorry. It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my entire life. And ye’ve been making me pay for it for weeks now.”

  “As well you should be! Just because you were off playing spy doesn’t mean the rest of us weren’t just trying to mind our own business. And then you had to drag me into all of this, when I had strict orders from my lady—”

  “Must we go over all this again?” William said, rubbing his face. “At this point, madam, I’d sell my soul to the devil himself if it meant I could undo what I did, but I cannae do that, so ye’re just going to have to learn to forgive me or get on with killing me, because I’d rather die a swift death by yer blade than listen to ye naggin’ me about it for the rest of my life.”

  “I’d be glad to oblige, but you took my dagger!”

  “Then I’ll gladly give ye my own!”

  “That’s not what you said a few hours ago when I tried to take it from you.”

  William opened his mouth to respond, but Philip put himself between them. “Now, I’m sure that’s a fascinating story, but as long as the lass hasna been hurt in any way…” He looked at Rose with a cocked eyebrow, and she begrudgingly shook her head, though her eyes narrowed at Will.

  Philip nodded. “Well then, I say for the moment we let the matter drop and send these two to rest and refresh themselves. They’ve had an arduous journey in order to bring us this news. We need to use it to our advantage. All else can wait un
til after Ramsay has been dealt with.”

  Alice didn’t look like she wanted to let the matter drop, but even she couldn’t argue with the need to fortify themselves against the coming attack.

  She bundled up her maid and took her upstairs to get settled in the small chamber off their own, while Philip and John took Will into the kitchens to feed the lad and glean whatever information they could.

  “I truly am that sorry about the lass, Philip, I swear it…”

  “Pay it no mind, Will. For the moment, anyway. There’s more important matters to discuss.”

  Will nodded and took another bracing drink of ale.

  John pulled up a stool and sat down. “I’d love to know how the maid plays into all this, but for now,” he said, holding his hand up against the immediate defensiveness on Will’s face, “just tell us the relevant information on Ramsay. How far away is he? How many men with him? Do you know what he is planning?”

  Will told them all he knew, from the moment he’d left Philip at the docks, to when he’d rejoined Ramsay’s men in his disguise as one of them, to the moment he’d managed to break away from them in the dead of night just a few hours before.

  Philip and John listened with growing concern.

  “We haven’t much time then,” Philip said.

  “Nay, my laird,” Will said. “A day or two at most. Perhaps less if he’s discovered my deception.”

  John called a lad in and sent him scurrying off to Glenlyon as fast as he could go. Then he turned back to them. “Thank you, Will,” John said, clapping both hands on his shoulders. “Ye’ve given us a chance to prepare a defense. One we didn’t have last time. Let’s not waste it!”

  The rest of that day was spent in a flurry of activity. Every possible entry point was fortified. Every possible precaution was taken. And it still didn’t feel enough.

  Philip and Alice tried to get some sleep, but the most they managed was a few fitful hours of dozing before they gave up and returned to the window. They sat on the large window seat together, wrapped in a warm fur, and watched through the night for any sign of Ramsay.