Her Outlaw (22 page)

“I’m not exactly calm,” she told him. “I’m entertaining explanations other than the obvious.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It occurs to me that three possible explanations for the necklace’s disappearance exist.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “One, a thief sneaked in while we were asleep and stole it. You’ve assured me that’s not possible, which brings us to two. A thief might have stolen it while we were making love.”

Dair muttered an expletive beneath his breath.

“I think that’s a legitimate possibility. I suspect that at various times during last night a bomb could have gone off at our feet and we wouldn’t have noticed. We were quite involved.”

Dair couldn’t argue, but he didn’t have to like it. “What’s the third explanation?”

“Magic.”

His mouth gaped. “Magic?”

“I’ve never really believed, but after reading Ariel’s story yesterday…well…Roslin of Strathardle called us the Chosen, a circle of three in the thirty-third generation. She said we have the chance to end the curse.”

“That fairy tale?” he scoffed. “You’ve decided you believe in magic because of some silly story you read in a book?”

Her chin came up. “You believe in fate.”

“Yes, but it’s a big step from fate to fairies.”

“I thought so, too, until yesterday, and honestly, I’m still not entirely certain about the fairies. It could be that’s just a way to explain a concept…well…that’s beside the point. Dair, I’d heard that story before. That night when Roslin gave my sisters and me our necklaces? She told us the same tale.”

He gave an exasperated shrug. “So what? It’s a MacRae legend told by some rogue clan member who robbed from the Sisters’ Prize. It doesn’t have anything to do with your necklace disappearing. Or with a goddamned voyeur possibly creeping about while we were naked and…occupied.”

“We don’t know that.” Emma folded her arms. “Look, MacRae, you obviously believe in the treasure. What makes your legend any more legitimate than mine?”

“It’s a treasure. Treasures exist. Besides, why are you laying claim to a MacRae legend? If you think I might challenge your right to the necklace since it’s part of the Prize, then—”

“No, Dair. That’s not it at all. Remember the part of the story that talked about Ariel’s children and her children’s children having to prove the strength of their love? That’s the Curse of Clan McBride. You’re missing a detail. A rather important one. The mortal man who Ariel chose over the fairy prince? Well, listen to this. He was a McBride.”

He went still. “That wasn’t in the story.”

“It was in the version Roslin told us in Fort Worth. You said you investigated us. Didn’t you learn about the bad luck curse? My family has seen it played out over and over. My father, my Uncle Tye. They were forced to overcome great trials before they achieved luck in love. Even my own love for Casey—”

“No.” Dair waved a hand, dismissing the entire idea.

She drew a deep breath as if summoning patience. “Nevertheless, Dair, the reality before us is that my necklace has gone missing under a peculiar circumstance.”

“So you’re ready to believe in magic? Good Lord. Maybe you really should have competed for Jake Kimball’s hand in marriage. You two would make a pair. He thinks Kat’s necklace will lead him to his brother who disappeared in a Tibetan storm years ago.”

“Does he really? Why?”

“Apparently, he’s dreamed about her necklace ever since his brother disappeared.”

“Oh, my.” Her eyes widened. She fell back a couple of steps until she sank down onto a chair. “It’s true, then. See, this further proves my point. Call it fate or destiny or magic, or voodoo, for that matter, some force is at work here. And my necklace has disappeared.”

“Look. As distasteful as I find the idea, someone managed to steal it from beneath our noses while we were otherwise involved. I knew you were dangerous, Texas. I didn’t realize being with you would wipe a man’s senses from his head. I’ll have to remember that in the future.”

“You’re not ready to believe, are you?”

“Believe what?”

“Believe in destiny. In a love that is powerful, vigilant and true, and in a task of great personal import. Dair, my sisters and I are the circle of three. We’re the Chosen. We have a chance. It began with a McBride and MacRae. It’s logical that it should end in similar fashion.”

In that moment, the blinders lifted from Dair’s eyes. This morning, her calm reaction to the ruby’s disappearance. Last night, the vixen in his bed. Her response when he told her point blank they didn’t have a future. She didn’t believe him. She flat out didn’t believe him! She believed in fairy tales instead.

I knew it was too good to be true.

Anger roared through him. Hardheaded, stubborn woman. What was he supposed to do? He’d tried, hadn’t he? He’d told her the truth. Most of it, anyway. This wasn’t right. She had no right to drag him along into her fantasies. Not her fairy-tale fantasies, anyway. She’d given herself to him last night under false pretenses. Well, that was her responsibility. Not his. He was by God not responsible for her silliness.

Dair dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration as he realized that now he’d inevitably hurt her. Wonderful. Just wonderful. He didn’t want to hurt Emma. She deserved better.

One more time. He’d try one more time to get her to listen to reason. “Emma, I’ll admit there are some curious things happening here. I agree that fate has brought you and me together. But you need to put your feet back on the ground here. What we’re dealing with isn’t some supernatural phenomenon.”

“But what if…?”

“Honey, reality is that someone, at some time, robbed the Sisters’ Prize of the three necklaces. We know that for some unknown reason a decade ago, a woman who likely had ties to Clan MacRae gave those necklaces to you and your sisters. I suspect your Roslin was somehow connected to mine because I had such a strong reaction to the engravings on the stone. Maybe my mother was the one who took the necklaces.”

“Would she have done that?”

“Who knows? Maybe your Roslin was a friend or even a cousin of my mother’s. Hell, maybe she believed the fairy tale too and when she ran across three McBride daughters, she decided you should have the treasure. That’s all guesswork, though. Who knows what the truth is? But it doesn’t really matter. The fact is that your necklaces prove the treasure exists. That’s what’s real in this whole thing, Emma. The treasure. It’s out there and I intend to find it.”

“I want to find the treasure, too,” she agreed, nodding.

“Why? Because you think it’s your ‘task’? Because you think your fairy godmother has declared us a couple? Emma, you need to listen to me this time. Happy-ever-after isn’t going to happen for us. I cannot be your strong, vigilant, true love. Last night was wonderful. Making love with you was special. More special than it’s ever been for me. But there are things you don’t know about me. Private things I’m not inclined to share.”

Her spine snapped straight. “Oh, my God. You’re married.”

“No I’m not married! I may be a thief, but I’m not a cad. Neither am I your destiny, Emma. You have to accept that. And you should recognize that it’s a
good
thing. I’m not much of a prize, Emma Tate. You deserve a whole lot better than me.

“Now. I think you must be correct in your assumption that somebody spied on our lovemaking last night and took advantage of our distraction to steal your necklace. Whoever took it might well try to sell it today, so it’s best we move quickly. I’ll quiz the staff. Also, I know every fence in Edinburgh so I’ll check with them, too. While I’m doing that, would you check with Robbie and see if he’s discovered any more information for us? We’ll meet back here at noon. With any luck, we’ll have the necklace back, and we can still leave for Strathardle today.”

He strode toward the door headed for his own rooms and a change of clothes. Her voice stopped him as he reached for the doorknob. “Alasdair MacRae? I think under the circumstances it’s important I tell you something I’ve recently discovered.”

Something in her voice warned him. Warily, he asked, “What’s that?”

“I’ve fallen in love with you.”

He jerked. She might as well have thrown a knife in his back. He wrenched open the door and stalked into the hallway. “Stubborn, hardheaded female.”

If deep within him, happiness warmed his heart, he did his best to ignore it. He almost succeeded.

But not quite.

E
MMA DAWDLED OVER HER
breakfast, leaving the way clear for Dair to interrogate his staff before departing for his dealings with the Edinburgh criminal element. She’d finished her bacon, eggs and toast and was savoring a second cup of coffee when the pounding on the front door began.

“Open up! Open the door immediately!”

Apparently, “immediately” didn’t happen soon enough. Emma dotted her lips with her napkin and prepared to stand as the door opened and what appeared to be a dozen men in blue uniforms and badges rushed inside. Policemen? This couldn’t be good.

“Stop,” called Dair’s man, Harvey, as the policemen trailed past him like ants in search of food.

“Where is he?” demanded the lead official, a barrel-bellied man with thick red brows and a handlebar mustache.

“Where is who?” Harvey asked.

“The damned Riever!”

“I think there has been a misunderstanding, sir,” Emma interrupted in a placating tone. “The robber isn’t here. The robbery was here. My necklace was stolen.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Emma Tate. I’m a friend of Mr. MacRae.”

“Oh? Then perhaps I should arrest you, too.”

Her smile died. “What?”

“Have ye been helping him, lass?” Captain Ketchen demanded. He braced his hands on his wide hips and scowled at her fiercely. “Have ye assisted the Highland Riever with his nefarious deeds?”

“The Highland Riever? What are you talking about? I don’t know the Highland Riever.”
Do I?
She tried to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “I’m the victim. My necklace was stolen.”

“No surprise, that, if you are staying here,” offered one of the other officers.

Emma turned her attention back to the police captain. “Are you suggesting that the Highland Riever works for Mr. MacRae?”

“Nae.” The big man’s face went red. “The Highland Riever is MacRae!”

Emma’s mouth gaped. Shock widened her eyes, even though deep down inside, she wasn’t all that surprised. “No.”

“Aye. We obtained proof of it just this morning.”

The soldier ants began streaming downstairs and from out of the back rooms. “He’s not here, sir,” one man said. “Servants all deny any knowledge of his whereabouts.”

Captain Ketchen instructed one man to remain inside, and four men to position themselves at the front and rear of the town house. Then he turned to Emma and the interrogation began. What was her relationship with MacRae? How long had she known him? What was her business in Scotland? What about this necklace she claimed to have lost?

Emma’s mind spun as she tried to mentally process this new information. First, did she believe it? Yes, she feared she did. The man she loved was more than a simple robber. He was a master thief. Wouldn’t her father be thrilled about that?

Second, how should she respond? Should she share her knowledge of Dair’s plans with the police? No. Absolutely not. In that case, should she deliberately mislead them? Heaven knows it wouldn’t be the first time she lied to the law. She was a McBride Menace, after all.

She answered the man’s questions in such a way as to alleviate his suspicions about her, yet cause Dair no further harm. Deciding she should gather as much information as possible to pass along to Dair when she saw him, she began asking questions of her own. “What proof? Where did it come from? Why do you believe something so preposterous?”

“It’s not preposterous at all. We’ve an eyewitness. He’s an acquaintance of MacRae’s, a coachman named Charlie Baldwin. He saw MacRae acting suspiciously, so he followed him and observed his criminal acts. Then he reported it like any good citizen would do.”

Charlie Baldwin? A coachman? Was he the Charlie from Chatham Park? Jake Kimball’s man? Emma thought hard, then nodded. Yes, she did believe she’d heard the surname Baldwin. Why would Jake Kimball’s man report Dair to the police? Did Jake want Dair in jail for some reason? It made no sense. “I don’t believe that. This man must be lying.”

“He’s not lying. We’ve authenticated his information.”

“That can’t be. Where is this Charlie? I want to talk to him.”

“You’ll talk to no one, ma’am. I’m not at all certain you are innocent in the matter.”

Emma let out the well-practiced gasp of an innocent, wrongly accused.

The captain gave instructions for Emma not to leave the house, then departed, continuing his search for the fugitive. Emma stood in the dining room rubbing her brow, thinking the situation through. She had to find Dair. She couldn’t allow him to walk into this ambush. “I have to get out of here.”

“There’s a way, Miss,” the worried Harvey said. “A side door that leads to the neighbors’ house. It’s quite discreet. I’ve a key. The housekeeper and I….” A blush stained his cheeks.

“I see. Good. That’s good.” How would she find him? Where should she go? Would he come here before meeting her at the bookstore? Where could she head him off? “I have to warn him.”

“We’ve a signal, Mrs. Tate,” Harvey shared. “You need not worry that he’ll walk into a trap here.”

“So it is true, then? What Captain Ketchen claimed? Dair is the Highland Riever?”

Pride shone in the man’s weathered face. “Aye. He’s the best that ever was.”

Emma grimaced. “I don’t suppose he’s secretly working for the authorities?” That’s what Mari’s husband, Luke Garrett had done. Mari had thought Luke was an outlaw when she went to him for help, but it turned out that he was actually a Texas Ranger.

“No, ma’am. If the authorities were ever to catch the Riever, he’d certainly hang.”

He wouldn’t come back here, so she needed to meet him somewhere else. She’d go to the bookstore. Await him there as planned. Surely he’d realize that’s what she’d do. He was a master thief, after all. He had to be smart.