The Scottish Rogue

by Heather McCollum

  With his absence, the strength abandoned Evelyn’s legs, and she sunk into the chair behind her, the chair where she’d given her trust to Grey. She swallowed, her inhale trembling. Please, Grey. After what they’d shared together, the progress they’d made in trusting each other, would he let all of it fall to the ashes with the rest of her life?

  A squeak made Evelyn swirl around, her skirts tickling against her legs. She held a lit taper, its flame undulating in the darkness. Something scurried across the floor, diving into straw that rose up around her. She brandished the taper, the flame growing larger until what she held was not a taper but a full torch. The light cast across the straw where a row of large rats sat upright, their little black eyes staring at her, reflecting the fire. She gasped, falling back, the torch slamming against the wall. She spun to see a tapestry catch the flame.

  “What have ye done?” She whirled away from the fire to face Grey, his mouth twisted in a hateful frown. She tried to speak, to apologize for her selfishness, but her voice was muffled. Only a whimper emerged.

  Evelyn jerked awake, her breath rapid as her heart beat with panic. “Just a dream,” she whispered. She rolled to the edge of Scarlet’s bed, clutching the blanket to her chest, and focused on slowing her breath. She blinked at the window glass, painted gray by the building dawn.

  Oh, Grey. Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, forbidding the ache of building tears to win the battle within her. She’d completely underestimated Philip Sotheby. Last night in the library, he had quickly used what Grey wanted most in the world to manipulate him. Had it even been a difficult decision for Grey? Did he have any true feelings for her after all had been revealed?

  She’s begun to open up the minds of several ladies in this very library… He’d come to her defense, but was it merely a reaction to the silence and lack of support around her? The ache burned behind her eyes until some hot tears squeezed out. She rubbed her face against the pillow.

  Grey would do anything to reclaim his family home, the seat of the Campbells of Breadalbane. He’d never suggested anything else. No matter that she’d sworn his heart was softening toward her. His honor and responsibility to his clan would never allow him to stand in Philip’s way.

  Evelyn drew in a ragged breath, wiped her face once more on the pillow, and pushed to sit up. Scarlet stirred behind her. “Is it already morning?” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep.

  “Yes,” Evelyn said, her heart so heavy that even speaking was difficult. She was tempted to climb back under the warm covers, refuse to come out like her mother did when summoned to their father’s study. Let her shoulders slump and the tears fall freely, for the tears were honest and not fed by fanciful drama. The ache of sorrow was real, so real that Evelyn had to face the truth. Perhaps, instead of Grey falling in love with her, she had fallen in love with him.

  “I suppose we must return to the library today,” Scarlet said, and Evelyn felt her shift. Her sister’s warm hand landed gently on her shoulder. “Evie?”

  Evelyn turned to face her sister. Scarlet’s eyes grew round as she studied her, and she blinked. “You are weeping,” she said. “You never weep,” she whispered. She pushed upright and sniffed, her own eyes filling with tears. “Damn it, Evie. You’re making me cry.”

  “I…I think I love him,” Evelyn whispered.

  Scarlet exhaled, a few tears running down her cheeks. She squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “You need to tell him.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “After yesterday, he couldn’t possibly feel the same.”

  “Not necessarily,” Scarlet argued.

  Evelyn looked down at the sheets, swirled around their legs like a warm pool. How alluring it was to consider hiding away in them. Perhaps she was weak, after all. “How am I to get out of this marriage with Philip?”

  Scarlet wiped her cheeks and tightened her lips. “Perhaps we could find sanctuary in France.”

  It was all very good to plan a wild escape, but putting it into action and finding success was a whole other endeavor, one that could lead to disaster and danger. Evelyn shook her head. “I can’t pull you into this mess.”

  “Nonsense,” Scarlet said, waving off the comment. “I pulled you into my mess when I woke you in the night to leave London. Without a single explanation, you helped me. ’Tis what sisters do.”

  Evelyn leaned forward to squeeze Scarlet’s hand. “Scar, what happened? I will never think badly of you and will keep your secrets to the grave. But if we are forced to go back to England, I would know from whom to protect you.”

  Scarlet rested her other hand on top of Evelyn’s and sighed. “I just…” She looked down, her cheeks staining red. “I can’t put words to the memories yet.” She met Evelyn’s gaze. “But I will tell you this. We will not go back.” She shook her head. “We will build a life somewhere else.”

  “How?”

  “Nathaniel will help us.”

  Her brother was surely still furious over her actions. Good Lord, the things she’d said in her anger… What must he think? What must Alana and Molly think? Had Alana told Kirstin? Had Grey left with Kirstin? Evelyn had no idea, because Scarlet and Nathaniel had escorted her to Scarlet’s room from the library. As if she were under guard. The thought rallied a tendril of anger inside her.

  Evelyn slid out of the warm bed and threw her arms into her robe as she hurried across to the hearth. She stirred the remaining embers, blowing on them to reignite the flame, and added peat. Anxiousness tapped through her chest, making her heart pound. Would today bring more pain? She retrieved her gown, throwing it on over a clean smock. She grabbed her steel hair stick and twisted up a quick bun.

  “Are you in a rush to dive back into this mess?” Scarlet asked as she finally rolled out of bed. She grimaced as her toes hit the cold floorboards.

  Evelyn peered through the moisture on the glass window, looking out into the empty courtyard beside the kitchen. “I need to know if Nathaniel will help me.” Or was he as disappointed in her as their father had been in all her radical ideas about women? If he did help her escape Philip, would there be any possibility of staying with Grey? Would Grey want anything further to do with her? The question solidified in her chest, a heavy weight that her heart beat against, nearly smothered.

  “He is our brother first, Evie.”

  “Father was never our father first.”

  Scarlet exhaled. She knew there was no argument about that. “But Nat isn’t Father.”

  “He certainly had the look about him last evening.”

  Scarlet shook her head. “You would be black and blue if that were true.” She walked over to Evelyn. “You just surprised him, surprised everyone.” She smiled. “My prim, responsible sister, cavorting with a devilishly handsome Highland chief.”

  Evelyn exhaled. “A Highland chief who might want nothing more to do with me.”

  Scarlet hugged her tight. “You need to talk with him.”

  “When I’m not imprisoned,” Evelyn said against her shoulder.

  Knock. Knock.

  They both looked at the door, the bar laying across for a lock.

  “Yes?” Scarlet called.

  “It’s Nathaniel. May I enter?”

  Scarlet looked to Evelyn, and she nodded. They both went to the door to lift the bar, setting it to the side. A momentary panic kicked Evelyn’s heart into a wild thumping. Would Philip be with Nathaniel, urging him to drag her away today? Would her brother chain her to Philip for life? She pulled in air and opened the door.

  Nathaniel stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and Evelyn slowly met his gaze at the same time Scarlet gasped. Nathaniel’s left eye was blackened, the lid nearly swollen shut, and his lip was raw with two black, crusty stitches at the edge.

  “What happened?” Evelyn asked, grabbing his arm.

  “Good God, Nat,” Scarlet said as they dragged him toward the fire to see better. “We need to tend your face.”

  “That angry woman with rose-colored hair and freckles across
her face already stitched my lip and slapped some salve on it.”

  “Cat,” Evelyn said, nodding. Angry described Isabel’s sister perfectly.

  He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “Yes, Cat. Is that her real name?”

  “It’s short for Catriona,” Evelyn said.

  “Catriona,” he repeated. “Hmmm.”

  “Well, you look horrible,” Scarlet said, hands propping on her hips.

  Nathaniel frowned, which only pushed his battered lip farther out. “Campbell looks worse.”

  “Grey?” Evelyn asked.

  Scarlet pushed Nathaniel into one of the two chairs by the hearth. “You two fought?”

  “Where is he?” Evelyn asked, her words terse. Had Grey been dragged off to Cross’s encampment?

  “He’s gone to the village,” Nathaniel said, studying Evelyn. He touched his injured lip as if to ascertain it wasn’t bleeding and rubbed his nose, scrunching it.

  Evelyn’s relief made her knees weak, and she lowered into the opposite chair. “What were you fighting over?”

  “You, of course,” Nathaniel said as if she were a goose. “And this whole muddle. Actually, he started it. Came in demanding to know why I’d sent a man to that English garrison north of here last evening. I suppose me calling him a sister-sullying arse after that didn’t help matters.”

  “A man went to Cross?” Scarlet asked.

  “One of Philip’s men,” Nathaniel corrected. “Stole a horse from the village.”

  “He didn’t sully me,” Evelyn said.

  “Yes, yes,” Nathaniel said and exhaled. “Seems he rather agrees with you on that, Evie.”

  He agreed with her? What did that mean?

  Nathaniel studied her, tipping his head to the side. “You care for him?”

  She opened her mouth, unsure what she could admit. Not just to her brother, but more importantly, to herself. “I… Yes, I do care for him. And I gave myself to him freely.”

  Nathaniel frowned, but released an exhale and nodded. “Then our plan is good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Plan?” Scarlet asked from behind the changing screen where she dressed, the material making a swishing sound.

  “You’ve made a plan that includes me without discussing it with me?” Evelyn asked.

  “I’m discussing it with you now,” Nathaniel said, his stare flat with annoyance.

  Evelyn crossed her arms. “Go ahead.”

  Nathaniel ran a hand down his jaw, which had grown stubbled. The bruises added to his tired, worried look. “Neither Campbell nor I will allow Philip to bully you into wedding him. And, since he apparently sent one of his men to Captain Cross’s company, we can assume he is planning to enlist the captain’s help in the matter.”

  “Or have Captain Cross arrest Grey for holding him against the wall,” Evelyn said.

  “We’ve considered that, since the man was sent before he offered Finlarig to Campbell in the library. Either way, we want to get you out of here.”

  “Captain Cross cannot force me to say yes to Philip before a cleric,” Evelyn said.

  “No,” Nathaniel said. “But he can lie and say that you already gave yourself to Philip or agreed to wed. The banns have been posted for weeks.”

  “Without me knowing,” Evelyn said, her voice rising as she stood to pace.

  “Perhaps that would all mean something if King Charles hadn’t blessed your union, in writing. Yes, I’ve seen the missive, and no doubt, Philip has shown it to Captain Cross. If Cross believes you are already wed, you will be seen as a flighty female who must learn her place.”

  “Bloody hell,” Evelyn murmured.

  Nathaniel’s eyes opened slightly wider. “Bloody hell? Asking a Highlander to ruin you? Going to the English compound to rescue a student? You’ve changed since coming north, Evie.”

  “Don’t forget dancing like a heathen around a Beltane fire and smearing bilberry tarts on her skirts,” Scarlet called from the screen.

  Evelyn willed the heat to leave her cheeks but knew she still flushed. She tipped her nose higher. “I’ve learned what it is to live without being under a brutal father’s thumb, Nathaniel. I’ve been able to share my opinions without fear of being slapped or locked in my room. I can walk and dance where I want, when I want, and with whom I want.” She leaned slightly forward as she continued her unblinking stare. “And I would rather die than go back to the suppressed life I lived at Hollings and the London court. With or without Philip Sotheby.”

  “Here, here,” Scarlet said, walking to Evelyn to have her stays tightened in the back.

  Nathaniel nodded. “Nobody’s making you return to England. Grey is going to take you and Scarlet north to his mother’s clan near Inverness, far enough away that Philip will be hard-pressed to find you. And he’ll be too busy, anyway, convincing Charles that he’s not this secret Surgeon of London.”

  Nathaniel’s words jumped through Evelyn, sparking a flock of questions, but the one above all others leaped from her lips. “Grey is…leaving Finlarig? For me?” Evelyn’s middle quivered, a sprout of hope nudging up through her despair. He wasn’t accepting Philip’s offer and abandoning her?

  “Strictly speaking, right now, the castle belongs to me,” Nathaniel said. “And, although I had intended to give it to you if you made a success of the school, I have no intention of giving it to Philip if you two married. Regardless of his plan.”

  “And you told Grey this?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said. “I am not about to let Philip manipulate the man into giving you up.”

  Evelyn nodded, though her thoughts churned. If her brother hadn’t told Grey that he wouldn’t give Finlarig to Philip, would he have taken Philip’s offer? It all boiled down to whether Grey did, in fact, love her. And whether that love outweighed his love for his home. “Thank you, Nat.”

  Evelyn raised her gaze back to Nathaniel. “So…Grey is leaving Finlarig? To help me?”

  “To take you two to safety until I can get things settled with Charles. He will bring you back in a few months, once you hear from me.”

  “But you will be alone here with Philip,” Scarlet said. “And his brutish men, and Captain Cross. What if they don’t listen to reason or Philip panics about you going to Charles?”

  Nathaniel stood up. “I intend to have James and our stable boy drive me immediately back to London in my own coach. Philip can remain here in an empty castle if he wishes.”

  “What about the villagers of Killin?” Evelyn asked. “He could harm them.”

  “Grey has spoken with his men, and the one he says is second in command who burned his back, he is recovering and will keep the villagers safe or evacuate them if needed.”

  “’Tis quite an extensive plan,” Scarlet said, bringing Evelyn her boots.

  Nathaniel stretched. “We spent a good deal of the night making it.”

  “I need to talk to him,” Evelyn said. They hadn’t had any time alone. And now Grey was having to entrust his people to someone else while he secreted Scarlet and her up to Inverness.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to talk,” Nathaniel said, touching the side of his eye as if it ached. “The three of you will leave as soon as you eat. Philip is known to sleep in, but if he wakes, the gatekeeper said he will take us on a tour of the village and surrounding forest to the south. You will head north on horseback, avoiding the English encampment.” He looked around the room. “Pack a few essentials, small enough to tie to a horse.”

  Evelyn took his hands in hers. “Thank you.”

  Nathaniel pulled her to his chest, wrapping her in a hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I was away too much when Father was so awful. I wasn’t there for you then, but I’m trying now.”

  Evelyn blinked against the press of tears, nodding into his chest. “I know,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  They parted as Scarlet came up and took both of their hands. “Look at us,” she said with a smile. “Brother and si
sters, looking out for one another. Mother would be so joyful that she’d cry.”

  Evelyn laughed, and Nathaniel smiled. Of course, she would cry.

  Knock. Knock.

  Nathaniel went to the door, swinging it open.

  “Kirstin?” Evelyn said.

  “Oh,” Kirstin replied as she stared, wide-eyed at Nathaniel. “I…I didn’t know where ye were sleeping.” Her gaze finally moving to Evelyn. “I’d hoped I’d find ye with your sister.”

  “Is something wrong?” Evelyn asked.

  Kirstin clenched her hands before her so tightly that her knuckles looked white. She stretched her shoulders back and lifted the sides of her mouth into a smile that didn’t hide her nervousness. “I’ve come to fetch ye.” Her gaze slipped back to Nathaniel, and her smile faltered. She cleared her throat. “Grey asked me to fetch ye. Said to bring your cloak and a very important letter.”

  Evelyn frowned, and she glanced at Nathaniel, who wore the same cautious expression. Grey was the one who held the letter addressed to Captain Cross, the one that proved the captain’s treason. He wouldn’t ask her to bring something he already possessed.

  Evelyn turned to face Kirstin and smiled. “Very well. I will be ready in a moment.”

  …

  “Ye are leaving Finlarig for a Sassenach.” Aiden shook his head as he followed Grey out of Rebecca’s door.

  Grey huffed, rubbing a finger over the stitched cut at his lip. “It is only temporary, for me to get Evelyn and her sister to safety.”

  “From the man she is engaged to.”

  “Without her consent,” Grey said, letting his annoyance at his friend flow into his voice. He hadn’t even told Aiden about the advice Evelyn had given about smoking out rats. She obviously hadn’t known the bastard Cross spoke of people, and Philip had brought it up only to force a wedge between them. Philip Sotheby was a sly fox, hiding his strategies behind the mask of a genteel aristocrat and his idiotic plume.

  “I don’t like this,” Aiden said, shaking his head. “I don’t trust any of them, and yet ye’re putting your life and your clan at risk by helping her.”