by Amy Quinton
“So eventually, I grew up and learned first-hand how cruel the world can be. Would you believe how often men, powerful wealthy men, dumped their bastards at the orphanage with only a token payment and a good riddance to the rubbish? Nearly every damn day. Those men, those greedy bastards, cared not one whit for owning up to the responsibilities of their actions. Hell, most of the time, they couldn’t even be bothered to do the deed themselves, rather they sent a footman or a maid in cover of night and left them on our stoop. And there was nothing anyone would or could do to stop it.
“So I did my part, to make them pay. I learned how to move amongst society. How to adopt different personalities, change my appearance. And I took what they owed and gave it all to the orphanage, anonymously of course.”
MacLeod spun around then, fury getting the best of him. “So you became a two-bit thief? A confidence artist? A trickster?”
Mel lifted her chin in defiance.
“Och, doon tell me ye’re a regular modern-day Robin Hood, is that how you see yourself?”
“Yes, actually, I do.
“God, I canna believe this.”
Stonebridge interrupted. “So what happened next?”
“I was ready to quit. I’d been at this for several years, and it’s not an easy life to live. You have no friends. Not to mention you’re forever looking over your shoulder. But then I was tempted with one last…job. One particularly nasty man had done the tried to have one of his murdered, but the boy was taken to the orphanage instead.
“Everything started off normally—was going extremely well, in fact—but then everything went wrong. It was all a set up. A trap to catch me. Apparently, I’d angered the wrong men. Before I knew what was about, I was framed and arrested for a murder I didn’t commit, and the power behind this was so big, they’d forgone any sort of trial, found me guilty, and scheduled me to hang in a matter of days.”
MacLeod turned at that. Shock, fear, anger, amazement, devastation…a full plethora of emotions exploded in his mind. She’d been days away from being hanged.
Hanged.
“Out of nowhere a man who calls himself Spyder contacted me. He said he could get me out of jail, but that I needed to be prepared to do something for him in return. I didn’t want another job, but I definitely didn’t want to be hanged for a crime I didn’t commit, and it was painfully clear there would not be a fair trial nor chance to prove my innocence. So, I accepted his terms.”
MacLeod and Stonebridge shared a glance. Spyder!
MacLeod asked his own question then. “What exactly did Spyder ask ye to do?”
“He told me I had to leave America. That it was no longer safe for me there. And to find Dansbury and tell him he’s my brother.”
No.
MacLeod clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, barely able to utter the question that had to be asked. “So, are you, Mel? Are you Dansbury’s sister?”
Amelia glanced at her hands once more, her shoulders drooped in resignation.
He slammed his fists on the desk. “Answer the damn question.”
She jumped up and looked him in the eyes then. “No! No, all right? I am not!” She spun around and ran out of the room on a sob.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Later That Afternoon, Time Enough for Calmer Heads to Prevail: MacLeod’s Provisional Barnyard Animal Sanctuary
Composed once again, Amelia stepped into MacLeod’s makeshift animal hospital, suspecting she would find him here of all places.
She was right.
She wasn’t silent when she approached, preferring to approach him boldly with nothing to hide. Still, she was dismayed by the obvious stiffening of his shoulders.
Dismayed but not discouraged.
“MacLeod…”
He pounded the worktable he was standing at. “You’re nothing but a thief, a two-bit hustler. A liar.”
She lifted her chin in indignation. “I am not.” Though she expected his anger, it was still upsetting to hear his harsh words. Still, she hid it well.
He spun around, slicing his hand through the air. “Och, you might as well be.”
Amelia clenched her fists and stomped her foot. “I will not hang my head in shame anymore!”
The man snorted in response. Snorted!
“Look, MacLeod, I did what I had to survive and to help others who aren’t as lucky as me. I’m sorry if that doesn’t fit with your worldview.”
“My worldview? Mine? Mel, the world says I’m right. People don’t take from others that which doesn’t belong to them. They go to gaol when they do. As you did.”
“Ha! Tell that to the men that left their bastard children with nothing!”
MacLeod turned his back on her, and her anger exploded into fury. She marched around to stand before him, unwilling to be ignored. When she caught the look in his eyes, everything clicked into place. “Oh, you are a good liar, too, aren’t you? This isn’t about me playing Robin Hood to a handful of orphans, is it?”
He didn’t respond, close-mouthed once more. A muscle ticked in his jaw and fury blazed in his eyes.
“This is all about you. You feel betrayed by me, is that it? And you don’t trust me.”
He glared at her, still mute.
“Look, MacLeod, I did not set out to betray you for nefarious reasons. I needed a safe place to go. I took advantage, I admit it. But I never intended any harm.”
He broke his silence at last and pointed his finger off toward some unknown distant place. “How can I believe a word you say when my friend is out there tearing apart the countryside trying to find your abductor? He should be enjoying his new wife, instead. For all I know, you and Kelly planned all this. It seems I have every right to distrust ye. Were you ever even married? Is Mrs. Chase even your real name?”
Amelia shook her head, incredulous. After all they shared, he had zero faith in her. None. “I admit I was never married. It was a convenient lie to make it easier for me to move around your country. My name is Amelia Chase, my true name. But this really isn’t about me, is it? This is about Delilah.”
“It isnae, but if the shoe fits…”
Amelia slammed her fist into his chest. “I am not her! If you cannot see the difference, then fuck you!”
She intended to strike him again, her despair getting the better of her restraint, but he caught her fist midair. Then, he bent down then, glaring into her face, anger rolling off him in giant waves. His voice was quietly lethal when he spoke. “The only difference I see is Delilah had a calculating look in her eye I refused to acknowledge. But you? You hide it better but that just makes you a better liar.”
And then he pulled her close and kissed her. It was a kiss of anger, fury. But wasn’t anger the other side of the coin to passion?
Whatever the reason, their shared fury melted into lust, inciting their mutual passion.
She hiked up her skirts and climbed his body, unable to get close enough. He was like a furnace, his body hot and hard. It was like her very soul caught fire.
MacLeod cupped her ass and hoisted her higher, then spun around and slammed her into the wall. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to press her tight into his hard body, providing the perfect amount of pressure. Right where they both needed it.
She kissed him, tearing at his hair, while he pulled up the edge of his kilt.
Then he was there, hot and hard, pushing into her wet sheath.
She screamed as she climaxed instantly.
“Oh, God, yes, Mel!”
Her core squeezed his invading shaft while he pumped up into her, harder, faster. Racing his way to his own finish. Each glide of his hard cock brushed her sensitized insides, sending a tingle of pleasure pulsing through her body. Already, she was fast on her way to another orgasm and oh, God, it was almost too much; she’d never felt this way before.
He grunted now, as he pumped on and on. The sounds of his exertions, his rapid breathing, the sound of his body slapping against hers, ratcheted her lust impossibly hig
her. She squeezed her eyes and saw stars as they came together in an explosion of power and passion.
Afterwards, they remained locked that way, their heads together, their breathing sawing in and out of their lungs as they floated back down to earth. She clung to him, afraid to let go. Afraid if she did, he would be gone from her life for good.
After a moment, his breathing slowed and in a whispered warning, he said, “This changes nothing.”
Then, he let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Next Morning
MacLeod sorted through the papers on his desk, sorting his correspondence ahead of his departure in a few hours.
He and Stonebridge were headed out to find Dansbury.
The duke walked in, his attire perfectly crisp and back to normal. “You look like hell, MacLeod.”
“Fook you, Duke.”
“Ah,” was his only response.
MacLeod didn’t care what the man thought of his returned ill-humor. Besides, the reasons were obvious to anyone with half a brain.
“I’m nearly ready—”
He broke off when Amelia walked into to the room unannounced.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
He crossed his arms and glared at her. She walked in anyway, her chin high. He hated that he admired her for not being cowed by his surly attitude.
The duke stood. “I’ll leave.”
“Nae. There’s no’ need,” he said. To Mrs. Chase, he added, “Aye, I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
He simply glared at her. As if he would tell her anything.
She turned to Stonebridge.
The duke answered, ever the mannered lord. “I’m afraid that’s classified, Mrs. Chase.”
She looked back at MacLeod. “Take me with you.”
“Hell, no.”
“I might be of use to you.”
“Nae.”
She glanced at the duke once more, briefly, then back at him. “MacLeod, don’t leave like this. I don’t want to end it this way.”
“I doona fooking care.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Aye, I do. And there’s something else. I expect you to be gone from here when I return.”
Her face paled. He didn’t care. He didn’t. Never mind his soul felt like it had burst wide open when he said those words. He would not take them back. He would not be made a fool again. He lost everything the last time. He wouldn’t lose it all again, not for the likes of her.
She turned then and marched out the door. He was, in a way, surprised. She usually needed to have the last word, but not this time, and it was all wrong.
It didn’t matter. They were through.
He didn’t know how long he stared at the empty doorway. Suddenly, the duke stood before him. “That was cold, man. Even for you.”
He snorted, a brave façade to be sure, and turned back to resume his packing. “If there’s one thing I know, Duke, it’s that Amelia Chase will be fine.”
“Did you not hear the part about her nearly being hanged?” he countered.
“Aye. But she wasn’t, was she?”
Stonebridge shook his head then and turned to leave. MacLeod watched him go, then finally allowed his face to fall. Hell.
Damn.
He turned then and picked up the brass paperweight from his desk and threw it at the wall and roared in righteous anger.
Damn you, Mel. Damn you!
Chapter Thirty-Five
Two Days Later: Greenwood Park…Still
MacLeod left two days before. Two dark and dismal days before. Unbeknownst to him, Amelia Chase was still in residence in his home.
Ha! Take that, MacLeod!
Amelia thumbed her nose at—no one, actually. The idea of MacLeod?—and paced around the man’s library one more time before settling in with a cup of tea on a lovely tartaned settee by the fire.
Aye, as MacLeod would say, she was still here, living in his home, eating his food, joking with the servants, taking walks with his brother, and all but wasting away in self-pity, which was not the norm for Amelia Chase.
But these weren’t her normal circumstances.
She hadn’t left because, quite frankly, she wasn’t quite sure where to go. She didn’t know how to get in touch with Spyder. Dansbury wasn’t around, and even if he were, he was no longer an option for obvious reasons. The same with Lady Beatryce and Aunt Harriett. They probably would not want to see the likes of her ever again.
Dash it all; she’d never felt more alone in her life.
Sure, as a child she was an orphan. But there were plenty of other children around in the same boat as she. It made for a sort of family through commonality. But now? Now, she had no one.
She’d thought she’d had MacLeod.
Amelia swiped away the tears she swore she wouldn’t shed and punched the pillow next to her before picking up her cup and taking another sip of tea. Honestly, what she really needed was something a bit stronger than tea.
Dammit.
She didn’t survive her life—the orphanage, bad men who tossed their children away like so much rubbish, and a too-close-for-comfort almost hanging—only to be brought low by a too-deeply-feeling, brute of a man with trust issues.
Honestly, Amelia had half a mind to disobey MacLeod and remain here, in his home, forever. Or at least until he physically threw her out.
Would he do that? Actually throw her out on her arse?
He was a physical man, but he’d never harmed her. Not really.
And she didn’t believe he would hurt her, either. At least not bodily. Oh, she had no doubt he was furious and confident he thought he didn’t want to see her ever again.
And his words could cut like a knife—damn…
But what did she want? Was she ready to give up on him? Should she obey his demand to leave?
Her dismal musings were interrupted by a rap on the door, followed by the familiar shuffling step of MacLeod’s man about house, Mac.
“Good evening, miss. There’s a gentleman here to see you. A Viscount Sharpe? Shall I show him in?”
“Oh, thank you, Jesus. Yes, Mac, yes. Show him in.”
A few moments later, the man she knew as Spyder, walked through the library doors with a confident, broad stride. He was dressed to the nines yet again, complete with rings adorning every finger and a silver tipped cane he obviously didn’t need.
“Good morning, Mrs. Chase.”
“Is it? Good, I mean?”
That gave him pause. “Ah. Trouble in paradise?”
She snorted. “You could say that.” Surely, he could tell by her pale skin and reddened eyes.
Spyder tilted his head and gave her an odd look as he passed, headed for the matching settee opposite her. He gestured to the seat and asked, “May I?”
Amelia waved the question away. “Of course.”
Spyder sat deep into the settee with an innate grace he was clearly born to, then crossed his legs, one arm resting on the side and the other propped up by his walking stick. He looked her over once more. “Well, perhaps not everyone is having a good morning at this precise moment, but for you? Aren’t you happy now? You finally have a family; I’d have thought you’d be a little bit more enthusiastic toward your change in circumstance.”
“Change in circumstance? What do you mean? Nothing’s changed that I can see.”
“But you have a family now. A brother. An aunt.”
“You mean a pretend brother.”
“Now, where in the world would you get that idea?”
Her heart dropped with those ten words. What did he mean? What did he mean! “You told me to tell Dansbury he’s my brother. I assumed, based on our past association, that this was another role to play, a cover. Was I wrong?”
“My dear Amelia Chase, but you are his sister. Truly, you are. That is why I went to such lengths to save you.”
At those fateful words, Amelia laughed. And laughed. And laughed some mo
re. She sounded like a maniac. She was bowled over, hands across her stomach, unable to sit up straight laughing. My God, the irony. She almost couldn’t stand it.
Spyder smiled and seemed willing to allow her her moment of insanity. “I hate to interrupt your amusement, darling, but I came here for a purpose. Well, a purpose other than correcting your incorrect assumptions.”
Amelia held up one finger in the universal sign of give me a minute while she pulled herself together.
After another minute or so, she finally said, “A-all right.” Snort “I’m ready.”
Wearing a bemused smile, Spyder asked, “Am I correct in understanding MacLeod and Stonebridge left Scotland two days ago?”
“Well, they left here two days ago. Whether they’re still in Scotland, I couldn’t tell you. MacLeod and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms when he left.”
“And do you know why they left?”
“I do, actually. They left to find Dansbury, who is chasing down Kelly.”
“Then we haven’t a moment to lose, love. They’re walking into a trap.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Four Days Later: The Rusty Hook Tavern, Blackpool
Four days later, MacLeod and Stonebridge entered the Rusty Hook Tavern near the sandy beaches of the little hamlet town of Blackpool. Through a thick haze of smoke, they spotted their quarry seated at a table nursing a pint of ale. Both men were surprised to see he was alone.
As they approached, Dansbury kicked out one of the two empty chairs at his table. “How did you find me?”
Stonebridge remained standing, his hands on his hips, and said, “Believe me. You don’t really want to know. Rest assured it wasn’t easy. We’ve been on the road for six days.”
Dansbury toasted them their success and took a healthy swig of his ale. “In all honesty, it matters not. I dispatched a note two days ago that would have brought you here, at any rate. You’re only a few days early, is all.”
“Where’s Lady Beatryce?” asked MacLeod, convinced she was somewhere nearby.