Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (7 page)

Sutton and Sutton, Esquires, Solicitors, London.

Hmmph.
He couldn’t imagine what they wanted with him, and the letter certainly didn’t elucidate
what the matter might be about. Likely the summons had to do with another tedious
technical detail associated with his father’s will that he’d been dealing with for
the past three years. He’d thought the matter concluded, but apparently not. Odd that
a new set of solicitors were involved rather than the ones with whom he generally
dealt. But he supposed certain types of legalities were referred out to other colleagues
as the need required.

Most annoying of all was the fact that the letter asked him to appear in person at
their offices in London; they needed to discuss a matter that was of a “highly important
and personal nature.” Experience had taught him that such issues were invariably deemed
“highly important” no matter how trivial they might actually prove to be. As for the
issue being personal, of course it was personal, since it involved his late father.

Well, he would pay the lawyers a visit when he felt like making the trip south again.
Right now he was northbound, and northbound he would be.

Tucking the letter underneath an extra pair of trews, he set about once again folding
the shirt that was causing him so much difficulty. As he did, his thoughts wandered
to the night just past and the young woman in whose bed he had slept.

A slight smile ghosted over his face as he recalled how delightfully soft she had
felt in his arms and how lovely she’d looked when he’d awakened this morning. He supposed
he ought to have roused her to explain that he was departing, but after the night
she’d had he didn’t have the heart to interrupt her slumber.

He’d written her a note instead that he planned to leave
with the maid before he departed. Inside, he’d included a sum of money that should
enable her to purchase a seat on the coach to London, with a bit extra for overnight
lodgings and food.

His years of military service had been reasonably profitable, enough so that he could
afford to spare the funds to help an occasional wayward soul.

As for Mercedes’s fears…well, he didn’t doubt the sincerity of her fright; the cause
of her alarm was another matter though.

Over breakfast in the common room this morning, he’d had the occasion to speak to
Mr. McCrawber, a blacksmith who also served as the local constable and justice of
the peace. The other man had scratched his thinning patch of carroty hair and scrunched
his pencil slash eyebrows in perplexity when Daniel had inquired about highwaymen
and an attack on the main road south.

“Canna say I know anythin’ aboot that, lad,” McCrawber had said. “An I rode here from
tha’ direction only this mornin’. Didn’t see nothin’ oot o’ the ordinary. If there’d
been murders, I’d’ve known aboot it, tha’s fer sure.”

“Tetched in the ’ead, is what tha’ lass is,” the innkeeper grumbled from his place
behind the bar. “Or else a right fine liar. I’m o’ the liar opinion, if ye ask me.”

“Then it’s a good thing no one did,” Daniel had remarked in a cold voice.

He’d thanked McCrawber and inquired no further. The innkeeper had tossed him a withering
look, then gone back to drying glasses with a damp rag.

After his conversation with the constable, he’d felt certain that Mercedes was in
no real danger—at least not from murderous highwaymen. He’d aided her as much as he
could, but now he needed to continue on his way. She wasn’t his responsibility; she
would be fine on her own.

A frown tightened his forehead as he recalled how she had shaken with terror last
night. And how trustingly she had later slept in his arms.

Pushing aside the memories, he laid the newly folded shirt into the top of his valise
and then closed the case, fastening the straps with a pair of hard, satisfying yanks.

He had just set the valise onto the floor and was scanning the room for any forgotten
items when a loud knocking began at the door.

“Major MacKinnon?” called a lovely feminine voice. “Are you in there? I must speak
with you immediately.”

Before he could respond, the doorknob turned and Mercedes was inside, tumbling across
the threshold with her plain white nightgown and robe swirling around her trim ankles
and her sable hair cascading in a tousled mass over her shoulders and down to the
small of her back.

“Thank heavens, I caught you in time,” she panted. “The serving maid said you were
leaving.” She looked at his valise.

He did his best to ignore her hurt expression and the twinge of guilt he felt. “That’s
right. I only stopped here overnight and must be on my way. I’ve already delayed my
departure long enough.”

“But you cannot go,” she declared, walking deeper into the room. “I have need of your
services.”

He arched a brow. “Services?”

“Yes. It isn’t safe for me to travel alone, not all the way to London. I require a
bodyguard and have decided that your protection shall do nicely.”

M
ercedes stared hopefully at Daniel MacKinnon, her heart thrumming fiercely beneath
her ribs.

The attack on the coach had been no random act, of that she felt certain. Whether
they meant to kill her or kidnap her, she did not know. But without the major’s protection
she would be alone and defenseless. She had no weapons and wouldn’t know how to wield
a pistol or a knife, even if she could find some means of obtaining one. But with
Major MacKinnon acting in her defense, she was confident she would come to no harm.

How she knew this she couldn’t say. Logically, it made no sense, especially given
the fact that the men of her own valiant, exceptionally well-trained royal guard had
been no match for the ruthless savagery of the brigands. Yet in spite of this, she
sensed that the major would keep her safe. He might be only one man, but there was
a steady confidence to him, a calm, almost single-minded efficiency and razor-sharp
intellect that made her trust him implicitly.

“Your bodyguard?” he repeated with an unfathomable glint in his moss green eyes.

“Yes,” she confirmed, encouraged that he hadn’t instantly
dismissed her request. “You were an officer in Wellington’s army, so I know you must
have the training and experience necessary to be a more than able protector. Your
duties would require that you accompany me on the journey south to London, making
sure, of course, that I arrive safely and without harm.”

“Of course. I should think that goes without saying,” he drawled, folding his arms
over his chest.

She paused, wondering if she’d heard an inkling of sarcasm in his tone. Deciding she
must have been mistaken, she forged ahead. “It would also be your responsibility to
secure suitable lodgings for our overnight stays as well as a comfortable conveyance
in which to make the journey.”

“Would you prefer a Whiskey for speed, Your Highness? Or perhaps a curricle with a
fine leather top for greater shelter from the elements? It might rain, after all,
during the long days of travel. Mayhap I should hire a coach-and-four instead with
a driver and full complement of footmen?”

Her brows furrowed as she considered. “Well, I am used to traveling with a number
of servants and outriders, but that hardly seems necessary under the circumstances.
I should think a curricle will do, especially since I no longer have any belongings
of which to speak.”

Come to think of it, she wondered what
had
happened to all her trunks and bandboxes and other personal items. For that matter,
what had become of the coaches, to say nothing of the bodies of those slain? Surely
someone must have found it, and them, by now.

“Yes, a curricle with a good, solid top,” she murmured thoughtfully. “As you say,
it may rain, but it is not worth the bother of hiring a closed coach and delaying
our departure in order to find a suitable coachman.”

“Och, aye, no point in going to unnecessary trouble or expense. While we’re on such
a subject, though, might I ask who will be paying for all of this while I am acting
as your
bodyguard
?”

She linked her hands at her waist, her frown deepening.
“Oh. You are right that there will be expenses along the way. I suppose you will need
to pay for the carriage and lodgings and meals and such. I assure you, though, that
every farthing will be recompensed. You have only to keep an accounting and my friends
will be more than happy to reimburse you on my father’s behalf once we reach London.
I will make sure you receive a handsome reward as well—I promise. My family will be
most distressed when they learn what has happened to me and my retinue, and most grateful
to you for coming to my aid.”

“Your parents. The king and queen?”

“Yes. I told you of them, and of my country.”

“Of course,
your country
. Odd that I have never heard of it.”

“Alden is very small. There are many people who are not aware of its existence.”

He murmured something under his breath that she couldn’t quite hear, then lowered
his arms to his sides. “Look, we could continue this all day, but I really do need
to be going.”

“Oh, well, yes, of course. You are right that we shouldn’t continue to delay. Pray
allow me to change my attire, and then we shall depart. The serving maid should have
my new garments ready by now.”

He drew a long breath, then met her gaze with an implacable look. “
We
are no’ leaving.
I
am leaving. I’m on my way north, to my home in Skye. I’ve no interest in changing
my plans.”

Her lips parted. “But—”

“As for serving as your bodyguard, I must refuse that as well and no’ simply because
my soldiering days are over. The fact is you doona need a bodyguard. You’ll be perfectly
safe traveling to London on your own.”

No, I won’t,
she thought as her pulse gave a hard kick.

“I spoke with the constable this morning,” he continued, clearly unaware of the panic
squeezing like a suffocating hand around her throat. “He traveled the main road himself
and there was no sign of highwaymen or abandoned coaches—and no dead bodies. I am
sorry,
Miss
Wyndom. I doona know
what may or may not have happened to you, but I seriously doubt that you are in danger—certainly
no’ from armed men. You have no need of a bodyguard.”

Turning, he reached back and picked up an envelope. “I was going to leave this with
the maid for you, but I’ll give it to you now. There’s money in there. Take it and
buy yourself a seat on the coach to London. The coach doesn’t stop at this inn, but
I’ve arranged for one of the stable hands to drive you over to a coaching inn where
you will be able to proceed on your way. Do not worry about repaying me. I’ll not
miss a few pounds.”

She grew still, her fear turning first to fire, then to ice. “You do not believe me,”
she whispered. “Like all the others, you think I am a fraud.”

His brows drew close, his words slow and carefully measured. “I think that you have
suffered a great fright and that you are confused. Shock can make people believe all
variety of things, some of them quite imaginative.”

Such as claiming to be a princess.

He didn’t say the words, but they hung in the air between them nevertheless.

So, he believes I am addled,
she mused.

Which was worse—liar or madwoman?

He sent her what she presumed was meant to be a reassuring smile. “My advice is that
you take the coach and go to visit your friends in London. By the time you reach the
city, I suspect things will seem less alarming and far clearer than they do now.”

Once again, he extended the envelope. “Take it. Let me help you.”

She shot him a disdainful look and made no effort to accept. “I have already told
you how you may assist me and you have refused. Pray do not trouble yourself further.”

His scowl deepened. “Doona be like that, lass.”

“I am
not
your lass.”

He rolled his eyes skyward. “Just take the money.”

“Thank you but I am not in the habit of accepting charity from others.” Actually,
she’d never even considered such an eventuality, particularly since she had always
been the one who gave to those less fortunate, not the other way around. How peculiar
to find herself in such straits.

“Then doona see it as charity,” he suggested. “Consider it a loan.”

“I would much rather you accept my offer to serve as my bodyguard.”

To her disappointment, he remained silent.

And vexing though it was to admit, he was right that she would need money if she had
any hope of reaching London on her own. But a loan was every bit as much out of the
question as taking charity. She scowled as an idea occurred to her, one that made
her sad even to consider.

“I propose an exchange,” she said. Reaching into the neck of her robe, she withdrew
a slender gold chain. On the end of it hung a crucifix, gleaming red and gold in the
early morning light.

“How much would you give me for this? It is quite an old piece, solid gold and inlaid
with rubies. It belonged to my grandmother, who received it as a gift from her grandmother.”

She waited, prepared to unfasten the clasp and hand over an heirloom she had cherished
from the day her beloved grandmother, the old queen, had given it to her on her thirteenth
birthday.

His eyebrows arched with surprise. “If that’s real, it must be worth a small fortune.”

She tilted up her chin. “Of course it is real.”

“Then I couldn’t possibly pay you what it’s worth.”

“But—”

“And why on earth, if you had that, did you no’ show it to the innkeeper last night?
He would have been bowing and scraping, offering you his best food and lodgings, rather
than threatening to toss you out into the lane.”

Mercedes considered the question for a moment, then shrugged. “I did not think of
it.”

He gave her an exasperated look, then rolled his eyes again.