To Enchant a Highland Earl

by Cameron, Collette

  “My God,” Kendra breathed into his shoulder, her breasts pressed against him. “Ye truly are the devil’s handmaiden. Why would Mr. Oswald agree to somethin’ so vile?”

  Sex. Money. Power. Control.

  Mostly control.

  Lady Montforth laughed as if Kendra had just shared an amusing jest. “You’ve seen the man. He’s homely, stupid, and almost panting for female attention. But he’s even hungrier for money. When he eliminates the last heir, I’ve promised him a hundred thousand pounds.”

  An envious cull like Oswald, a man who always coveted what others had, and he could never hope to have for himself, wouldn’t be hard to sway to dastardliness.

  A pretty pout formed on Narcissa’s full, rosy mouth.

  Perhaps even a forbidden kiss. A suggestive skimming of her hands. Seductive whispers in Oswald’s ears of all he was missing and all she could give him. Would do to him.

  All lies designed to manipulate the weak-willed solicitor to do her foul bidding.

  Unfortunately, a morally bankrupt sod like Oswald would leap at the chance to better his station. To claim a woman like Narcissa as his own.

  Much like the black widow spider, she probably intended to dispose of Oswald, too.

  A crafty smile bent her mouth, her pale blue eyes peculiarly blank and fiendish at the same time. “That’s a promise of a new life to a man like Oswald. An existence he could only fantasize about. He’ll do anything to achieve that goal.”

  “Did ye honestly think ye could succeed with yer ludicrous plan?” Broden was careful not to say demented or unhinged. Those drowning in lunacy couldn’t face their derangement.

  He shifted his stance, prepared to lunge and wrest the flintlock from her grasp.

  “You will both precede me from the house.” Shrewdness filtered into her features as she waved the weapon back and forth between him and Kendra. “If either of you attempts to alert the men I have no doubt are skulking about outside…” She cocked the hammer. “I shall shoot the other.”

  “Yer plan is doomed to fail.” Kendra slipped out from behind Broden. Like a warrior princess, she faced Narcissa, brave and bold and beautiful. “Oswald didna kill Edwin McGregor, and when he followed Edwin to Scotland, he was captured.”

  Liam caught Broden’s eye, a question in his.

  With the merest flexing of his eyelids, he warned Liam to wait.

  Furious at Kendra for endangering herself, he stifled his first reaction to shove her unceremoniously behind him once more. However, she’d obviously caught Narcissa off guard with her brilliant lie.

  And that could be used to their advantage.

  He’d scold her soundly afterward. Right now, he must concentrate on preventing Narcissa from shooting her.

  Momentarily stunned at the unforeseen news, Narcissa blinked wildly. She tossed her head back, jutted her chin up, and surging forward, threatened Kendra with the gun. “You’re lying, slut. I had a letter from Philibius two days ago telling me to meet him at the Tates’ charred cottage today.”

  Good. Now Broden knew where Oswald was, the bugger.

  Only the merest shifting of Liam’s eyebrows acknowledged he’d made a mental note of the useful information.

  Kendra shook her head, more hair tumbling from her pins. “He’s no’ there. We coerced him into writin’ that letter. He’s been promised a reduced sentence if he identifies the mastermind behind the scheme. Otherwise, he’d hang for certain.”

  Where had she learned to lie like that?

  A seasoned prostitute and swindler couldn’t have fabricated such codswallop out of thin air with as much ease or expediency.

  Oswald would hang, in any event, for attempted murder.

  However, a woman of Narcissa’s breeding and background probably knew little about penal codes or criminal sentences. Had little understanding she’d meet the same fate, no matter whether she cooperated or not.

  She’d admitted to killing her sons. There’d be no redemption or mercy.

  Christ. Broden was guardian to five lasses whose mother would hang for killing their brothers and father.

  The girls must never know. Never.

  He’d concoct a believable tale, and as tragic as it was that the lasses would grow up without their mother, he’d protect them from the sickening truth.

  He must, for their sake.

  “No, Philibius adores me. He wouldn’t betray me.” Confusion etched shadows across Narcissa’s pallid features. Uncertainty battled with fury and insanity for dominance.

  Shoving a glossy strand of hair behind her shoulder, Kendra gave a mocking laugh. “He was only too willin’ to name ye. He laid everthin’ at yer feet. Said ye planned every last detail. Vowed ye threatened to claim he imposed himself upon ye if he didna cooperate.”

  “Kendra,” he warned, touching her wrist.

  She might push the countess too far.

  Narcissa gasped, and jerking as if backhanded, staggered backward a pace. Her face twisting with umbrage, she aimed the barrel directly at Kendra’s chest.

  “That’s a lie,” she spat, her gaze shifting back and forth wildly. “’Twas all his idea. I knew he had a fondness for me. I could see it in his lovesick stares and pitiful sighs whenever he called upon Standish. And when he found me in tears one day after another beating by Standish, he pledged his love. Vowed to help me.”

  And now they had a full confession, as well. Hopefully, men waited in the corridor, taking in every word.

  Any sympathy Broden might’ve summoned for her abuse at the fourth earl’s hands was soundly extinguished by her confession of slaying her sons.

  “Ye do realize ye’ve confessed to multiple murders and plottin’ to commit others in front of witnesses, dinna ye?” Broden deliberately drew her fury away from Kendra.

  With the slightest incantation of his head, he gave Liam the signal.

  As Narcissa swung his way, murderous wrath contorting her features and hatred in her eyes, he dove for Kendra. He shoved her to the floor and covered her body with his own.

  Liam lunged for Narcissa at the same moment, wrapping his arms around her from behind and firmly striking her wrist, forcing her to drop the pistol.

  The gun discharged with a deafening boom as it landed upon the floor.

  She screamed and struggled, thrashing and violently striking out with her feet.

  Jaw locked and features strained, Liam kept her contained, grunting and swearing beneath his breath.

  At once, the terrace doors flew open, and Coburn and Graeme pounded into the chamber.

  “Is everyone all right?” Graeme asked, rushing to kneel beside Broden and Kendra.

  “Aye. I was but protectin’ my future wife.” Broden rolled off her, and after rising, helped her stand.

  Face pale as paper, but remarkably composed, Kendra gave him a shaky smile and leaned into his side, rubbing her right elbow. “That was—unexpected.”

  “But necessary.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Are ye all right?”

  She nodded, eyeing the countess.

  “Let me go!” Narcissa shrieked, kicking and bucking against Liam. “Unhand me. I am Lady Montforth, you filthy Scot. I’ll see you hanged for this, you bastard.”

  “Can one of ye assist me?” he managed between grunts and curses. “Tie the countess’s hands, and find somethin’ to gag her with.”

  Graeme made quick work of cutting the cords holding the draperies back and secured her hands behind her back as Coburn stuffed his neckcloth into her mouth with all of the care of stopping a leak in a skiff.

  “Never heard a more foul-mouthed lady in my life,” he said with satisfaction as the cloth muffled her shrieks and profanities.

  Broden kissed the crown of Kendra’s head again. “Lass, ye were spectacular, but if ye ever do anythin’ so foolhardy again, I’ll take my hand to yer backside.”

  He hugged her fiercely, and she cuddled against him like a cold kitten, seeking his warmth and comfort.

  “Oswald’s wa
itin’ for Lady Montforth at a burned cottage owned by someone named Tate. Ask Morris if he kens where it is and prepare half a dozen men to go with us. Someone also needs to go for the magistrate.” Broden tightened his embrace around Kendra.

  “I’m fine,” she murmured, quietly, as if she understood his unspoken fear. “Really, I am. Just a trifle bruised.”

  “I’ll ask the butler to send a footman for the magistrate,” Coburn said, already striding toward the door. “I’ll have the horses prepared, too.”

  This situation could’ve gone much differently. Sweat born of stark terror for Kendra soaked Broden. A glint in Narcissa’s eyes an instant before he tackled Kendra warned him: she meant to kill the woman he loved.

  “Secure Lady Montforth somewhere where her daughters will no’ come upon her,” Broden said. “Preferably a room with nae windows. She’s to have three guards present outside at all times. See that she has somethin’ to eat and a cot.”

  Liam gave a grim nod.

  “I’ll join ye in the courtyard in a few minutes.” Broden linked his fingers with Kendra’s. “I’d like a few minutes alone with my betrothed.”

  Liam and Graeme hauled the still struggling Narcissa from the chamber.

  The minute the door closed, he pulled Kendra flush to his chest and claimed her mouth in a blistering kiss. She wrapped her arms around his back, holding him every bit as tightly as he held her.

  Several breathless moments later, he lifted his head. “Dinna ever do anythin’ so foolhardy again, my love. My heart nearly stopped when that bitch pointed the gun at ye. I couldna think of life without ye, and I feared ye’d be taken from me before I ever made ye mine. Or I told ye how verra much I love ye. Love yer soft gray eyes, and stubborn chin. Yer glorious hair and luscious curves. Yer obstinance and kindness and generosity and yer untamable spirit.”

  She cupped his stubbly jaw with her hand, her eyes wide and luminous, her lips rosy from his fervent kisses. “Do ye truly love me?”

  “That’s all ye heard of my fine speech?” He chuckled and gave a wry shake of his head.

  A smile crept across her mouth. “Och, the rest was lovely, as were yer kisses, but ye’ve never told me ye loved me.”

  She stood on her toes, pressing a reverent, sweet kiss to his mouth.

  “I do, lass. I have for so verra long, and I couldna tell ye because ye loathed me.”

  “I didna loathe ye. I realized some time ago, ye stirred things in me I didna understand. Didna ken what they were, and they made me uncomfortable. I think I’ve loved ye since I was a wee lass, toddlin’ around after ye.”

  He cradled her, relishing her warmth and her scent. “Ye will marry me.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  She tilted her head, an eyebrow cocked. “I shall? A lass rather prefers to be asked than ordered to wed.”

  He growled and nuzzled her neck. “Will ye? Gift me such an invaluable treasure as ye by my side all the days of my life?”

  “I shall if ye will do the same for me.”

  Releasing her, he frowned. “Can I impose upon ye to stay with my wards? I ken ye havna met them yet, but as my wife, ye’ll be a vital part of their lives, too. I want them to come live at Glenawayshire. To start over. They’ll need time to heal after their mother’s—gone.”

  Kendra bowed her head. “She will hang, willna she?”

  “I dinna see any other recourse.”

  He tilted her chin upward. “Are ye sure about weddin’ me? I come with five lasses who barely ken me and will be recoverin’ from a tragedy nae bairn should ever have to endure. Things may no’ be easy in the beginnin’. Mayhap no’ for some time.”

  “Broden McGregor, I’ll take ye any way I can have ye.” She gave him a little push. “Now be off. I’ll go to the girls and introduce myself and keep them entertained while ye deal with the other unpleasantness.”

  A smile worked its way across his face, and he brushed a thumb over her cheek. “Thank ye.”

  A sharp knock echoed at the door. “We’re ready, Broden,” Bryston called.

  Kendra caught his hand. “Come see me when ye return. No matter how late. I need to ken ye are safe.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kendra brushed a strand of pale blonde hair off Amaryllis’s face. Poor dear. The eldest, she knew something was amiss. She’d finally fallen into a fitful slumber about fifteen minutes ago.

  The sweet, but energetic lasses had bombarded her with questions when she’d entered the nursery almost seven hours ago. She’d mentioned nothing about their mother and had introduced herself as Broden’s betrothed.

  Their governess and nurse eyed Kendra speculatively but had been polite if a bit reserved. Likely they understood full well that as the wife of the girls’ guardian, she would have much input on whether they retained their positions.

  She’d excused them both to take a couple of hours for themselves and had earned grateful smiles, and she hoped, allies. She’d need all of the help she could muster to take on the task of raising the girls.

  “I’m retirin’ now,” she whispered to Nurse, sitting by the fire and knitting.

  The woman glanced up, her friendly expression encouraging Kendra. “The young misses took to you, Miss Mackay. That’s not typical. Except for the eldest, they are generally quite shy with strangers.”

  Hands on her hips, Kendra arched her back. She was unaccustomed to romping about on the floor, playing all manner of games and make-believe. “I’m glad.”

  The nurse put aside her knitting and slowly gained her feet. She was of an age when she really ought to retire, but as with many in service, they didn’t have the resources to do so. Kendra had no idea what the woman’s wages were, but at the very least, a younger woman should be hired to assist her.

  She’d speak to Broden about it.

  When he returned.

  Of its own accord, her gaze gravitated to the small clock on Amaryllis’s nightstand. Nearly nine. It shouldn’t have taken this long for Broden and the others to return. Something must’ve gone wrong.

  She’d sent word to the men guarding the countess to double-check and make sure all of the doors to the house were locked.

  Nurse approached Kendra, and after a covert glance to the sleeping girls, motioned for her to step into the room she shared with the governess. Miss Postelwaite glanced up from the papers she was grading, her eyes owlish behind her spectacles.

  “We wondered if we might have a word with you, Miss MacKay.” Nurse exchanged a hesitant glance with the governess.

  “Yes, quite,” Miss Postelwaite said, setting aside her spectacles before rising. She folded her hands primly before her. “As I’m sure you can guess, we’ve heard… That is, the other staff report…” She drew in a large breath, her chest expanding. “There’s really no tactful way to ask. Is it true the countess is behind the plot to assassinate Lord Montforth?”

  Kendra shifted her attention between them. “I think it best if you speak directly to his lordship regarding the matter.”

  Nurse swallowed, and after Miss Postelwaite gave her an encouraging nod, she ventured closer to Kendra. “We’ve,” she gestured between herself and the governess, “long suspected she might’ve had something to do with the previous earl’s demise.”

  And her sons’ demises, too.

  Kendra didn’t feel it was her place to apprise them of the repugnant facts. Particularly not with the girls a few feet away and within hearing distances if they should wake. “I’m sorry, but, again, I must defer to Lord Montforth. I’m certain he will explain all as soon as he’s able.”

  With a friendly smile, she made her way to the bedchamber she’d been shown to earlier. As she’d requested, a bath had been prepared, and someone had even procured a nightgown for her. She fervently hoped it wasn’t one of the countess’s.

  After bathing and washing her hair, she sat before the fire, brushing the strands to expedite their drying. Despite her determination not to, her attention gravitated to the clock. Ano
ther hour had passed, and still, there’d been no word.

  Had Broden returned and decided it was too late to see her?

  No, he wouldn’t do that. Any more than she’d do the same to him.

  Sighing, firmly banishing her vivid imagination to the far corners of her mind, she set aside the hairbrush and closed her eyes. Resting her head against the chair’s high back, she relived the past couple of months.

  So much had changed.

  She was in love. In love with the most magnificent man.

  His absence these past weeks had been almost unbearable. What was it about being in love that made a person’s soul yearn for its other half? This time when they’d parted, it had felt like her heart had been carved from her chest. That it wouldn’t beat a steady rhythm until she was with him once more.

  A soft scratching at the door had her eyelids flying open.

  Broden. Och, thank God.

  She jumped from the chair and raced to the panel. Her hand on the latch, she paused. It wouldn’t do to open the door wearing nothing but the light nightgown if someone else stood outside. “Who is it?”

  “’Tis me, love. Open the door.”

  With a small cry of delight, she flung the door wide open and launched herself into his arms before he’d completely crossed the threshold. “I was so worried,” she said, peppering his jaw and throat with hot kisses. “Did ye catch Oswald?”

  He stiffened for an instant. “We found him, but he didna surrender willingly. He took his own life rather than face the hangman’s noose.”

  Honestly, she couldn’t blame him.

  “I’ll tell ye all the details tomorrow, but right now…” He nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear. “I have more important things on my mind.”

  He smelled divine. Fresh soap. Shaving lather. His distinct musky maleness. He’d bathed, and his hair was yet damp. He wore only a fine lawn shirt and breeches.

  Giving him a coy look from beneath her lashes, she ran her hands over the bulging muscles of his arms. “Why, Lord Montforth, are ye here to seduce yer betrothed?”

  “Aye. We’ll marry on the morrow, but I mean to introduce ye to pleasure tonight.” With a hungry growl, he lifted her in his arms and kicked the door shut behind him.