Highland Temptation (4 page)

“I understand that, Emilia. His blood runs through your veins. He is your family. I admire your loyalty. But…” Sir Colin gazed steadily at her. “He's hurt you badly. And I have the feeling that he's hurt others as well. Can you let it continue?”

“I…don't know.”

He released her hand and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Aye, lass. You dinna have to decide right now. But will you think about it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

“I never thought highly of your father, but now that I see what he's done to you…You ken it's wrong, don't you?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “He says I am a bad girl and I deserve it. Every time.”

“How old are you?” he asked her.

“One and twenty.”

“No woman deserves to be treated thus,” Sir Colin said. “Ever. No matter what you did or said, you didna deserve it.”

She turned his words over in her head. She had never thought of it this way. Her father had started beating her just after her mother had died. Sometimes she didn't understand how she'd been so bad, but he always had a reason, and his reasons made sense, in a terrible kind of way. She'd embarrassed him at a dinner. She'd interrupted him when he was working the new bill he intended to introduce to Parliament. She'd talked back to him.

Emilia had quickly learned how to be docile and quiet, though those weren't her natural tendencies. She learned how to keep herself invisible, to do her father's bidding immediately and without complaint. Her compliant façade kept her safe from him for long periods of time, until she'd slip again and say or do something that infuriated him.

This time, though, she'd known how dangerous it was, snooping about in the drawer he kept locked in his office, which he didn't even allow his servants to enter. When he'd caught her staring at the documents she'd already read more than a half-dozen times, she'd known this was it. Her life was over. He'd surely kill her.

But he hadn't killed her. It was just another beating. Yes, it was harsher than the previous ones, but the crime was far greater. The threats he'd hissed at her, though…She believed those. He
would
kill her if she spoke a word of what she'd read. The information in those documents held that kind of power over life and death.

“No man should abuse a woman thus. Especially his own daughter, whom he is responsible for protecting.”

She looked up at Sir Colin, who gazed back at her with solemn, bronze-glazed eyes, and gave a small nod.

“We'll be fixing this. You'll never need to live in fear again. That's my vow to you, Lady Emilia.”

Sir Colin was an honorable Highlander, and men like him didn't take that kind of oath lightly. A small bud of hope began to grow within Emilia. For the first time in a long while, her future didn't loom in front of her like some dark monster.

“I'm glad you came to us,” he said again.

“Me, too,” she whispered.

The major gestured to the chair across from his desk as Colin entered his office. Colin sat stiffly. The major studied him for a moment, and then said, “She told you something.”

“Aye. Not the whole story, though. Only a wee bit of it.”

“I see.”

“But enough for me to know one thing.”

“What's that?”

“I need to take her out of London. Somewhere safe. Pinfield wilna rest until he finds her.”

The major's brows rose. “You're certain of this?”

“Aye. She has information that will destroy him. Information he'll be willing to kill for.”

“What information?” the major asked.

Colin shrugged. “She's not ready to say.”

The major sighed.

“But here's what I'm thinking,” Colin said. “I think the man's involved in something seditious.”

“Why?”

“Because he's evil.”

“That's not enough, Stirling. Just because a man beats his daughter doesna mean he's a traitor.”

“I ken it isna enough. It's just a feeling I have.” He leaned forward. “Mayhap he's behind all these whispers around Town.”

The major narrowed his eyes. “What whispers?”

“Grumblings about the Regent and his lack of decency. Complaints he's an embarrassment to the populace.”

The major sighed. “I've heard those. They seem like benign complaints, though. People always complain.”

“Aye, well, the rumors are getting worse. Just in the past week I've heard something new.”

“What's that?”

“They're saying that the entire House of Hanover possesses the same flaw that caused King George III's madness, and the entire family is soon to go the way of the king, frothing at the mouth and speaking nonsense. People are whispering we're all doomed if we continue to hail the Hanovers as our monarchs.”

The major gave him a grim look.

“I've a feeling about this, Major. My feelings are seldom wrong. Someone is responsible for starting these rumors, and for spreading them. Why not a power-hungry aristocrat like Pinfield?”

The major didn't respond, so Colin continued, “We canna be too cautious. If I'm correct, then he'll stop at nothing to find Emilia. And once he has her, there's no telling what he'll do to ensure her compliance.”

The major stared over Colin's shoulder at a distant point on the wall. “I always thought Pinfield was a bit of a dobber. I never thought him capable of sedition.”

“Aye, well, I never thought him capable of doing what he did to Emilia last night,” Colin said darkly, “and I was in his presence intermittently for almost a year. He's more canny—and evil—than we've given him credit for.”

“All right, then, assuming your suspicions are correct—what then? Where'll you take her, and what'll we do about Pinfield?”

Colin straightened and stared at his leader, the man who'd been his superior in the army for ten years before they'd joined the Highland Knights. Colin had spent the greater part of the morning thinking this through, and now he needed to sell the idea to the major. Surely the man would see reason.

“We need to see to her safety first,” Colin said.

“How?”

“By taking her away from London. To a safe house. In Scotland.”

The major looked down at his desk and pressed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “And Pinfield?”

“We canna reveal that we have her—that we ken anything about what happened. Only one of us should go with her, traveling incognito. The rest of us should remain here as if nothing is amiss while secretly investigating Pinfield and those closest to him.”

“I assume the one to go with her would be you,” the major said dryly.

“Aye.”

“Why? White or Laurent would be the obvious choice. You're part of London society and expected at certain social events. Those two wouldn't be missed.”

Maxwell White was the other new member of the Knights. He was a young Scot, an army officer who'd fought in one of the Highland cavalry regiments at Waterloo. He was a quiet warrior, thoughtful and intelligent, and Colin had quickly grown to trust and respect him, just like he had the young Frenchman.

Still, he shook his head. “White is off on his honeymoon for another week. We canna wait that long.” White had brought Aila MacKerrick back with him after the Knights' assignment in the Highlands this past winter. She and White had married a fortnight ago. “In any case,” Colin continued, “you'll need both him and Laurent here in London. They'll be the only ones who'll be able to follow Pinfield without raising suspicion.”

“True,” the major said.

“And…I think…” He hesitated, considering how to communicate to the major that he felt a connection between himself and Emilia. Some bond that was forming, that ran deeper than that of protector and victim, but that he couldn't really articulate. Finally, he simply said, “I think she might come to trust me, eventually.”

“And she'll tell you more about her da's illegal activities?”

“Aye. I think the best way to get to Pinfield, to learn his true nature, is with her information. She kens her father has done wrong, and she has the evidence of it, but she's hesitant to reveal it. She's bound by filial loyalty.”

“How? After what he's done to her,” the major mused.

“Blood runs thicker than water,” Colin said flatly. He respected her confusion; how torn she was; how, despite all that Pinfield had done to her, she hesitated to harm him in return. It made her a better person than her father. It made her a better person than Colin—he'd never be loyal to such a man.

The major dropped his hand and drummed his fingers on his desk. After a long moment, he gave Colin a slow nod. “Aye. You go, Stirling. Take her north. But you need to take one of the women with you. You canna be traveling alone with an unmarried daughter of an English viscount.”

Colin stiffened. “I wouldna compromise her.”

“She's English, man. Being seen alone in your company would compromise her irrevocably.”

Colin rolled his eyes. English society could be so daft sometimes. Unlike the other two high-ranking military officers among the Knights—the major and McLeod—Colin hadn't spent much time in England before purchasing his army commission when he was eighteen. Hell, McLeod's experience was the opposite of Colin's. The man had hardly spent any time in Scotland, and his mother was English. As much as McLeod disliked it, he understood how to negotiate English society. But even after spending some time in and out of England during his army years, the intricate workings of the
ton
still flummoxed Colin.

“None of the women should come,” Colin said. “Lady Esme is too far gone with child. Aila is still on her honeymoon. And Lady Claire and Lady Grace have a busy social schedule this spring—the busiest part of the Season is about to begin. If they disappear all of a sudden, their absence will be noticed.”

The major groaned in frustration. “You should be taking a maid with you, at least.”

“If we bring a lady's maid with us, we will attract more attention. Any kind of attention will be dangerous for Emilia.” Colin knew that what he was saying was true, and yet…Well, he had no idea why his gut was rebelling so ferociously at the idea of taking someone else along. He could protect Emilia by himself, damn it. He'd keep her identity safe, and he'd keep
her
safe. He didn't need another person complicating his task.

“Stirling—” the major began.

“Aye, I ken what you're going to say.” Colin raised his hand to stop the other man's words. “But it'll be safer if the two of us went alone. I'll take her myself. I'll guard her identity and her reputation with my life. You ken I will.”

The major gazed at him, his forehead creased in concern. “Aye. I ken you will,” he said finally. “Very well, then.”

Colin nodded.

“She might balk at this plan. Scotland is a long way away to a young English lady, and to travel with a man she's hardly acquainted with…”

“She'll agree to it,” Colin said.

“You seem certain of that.”

“I am.” Colin sensed in Emilia the need to be far away from her father and from everything that had happened to her. He thought she'd jump at the chance to leave London. And Colin had a feeling that, if given a choice, out of all the people in this household, females included, Emilia would choose him to be her companion.

“Verra well, then,” the major said.

Colin rose. “I should prepare to go. We'll leave before dusk.”

The major cocked a brow. “So soon?”

“Aye.” The compulsion to take Emilia away was a strong one, and one he didn't wish to question.

“Go, then,” the major said. “Not to Beauly Castle, though.”

“Nay,” Colin agreed. Beauly Castle had been where White had taken Aila to protect her, but the fact that the Highland Knights owned the castle wasn't a secret, and the madman hunting Aila had found her there. “I'll take her to Inverness.” They owned a cottage there—a place no one but the Knights themselves knew about.

“Aye,” the major agreed. “You'll be safe there, especially if you're able to travel without anyone recognizing you. We'll begin our investigation here in London and communicate all of our findings to you. If you're able to learn more from her, send us a coded message immediately.”

Laurent had recently taught them all a cipher by which they could write coded letters. “Aye, I will,” Colin said.

Colin left the major's office and went directly upstairs to the ladies' sitting room, where he found Emilia standing at a table, surrounded by the other ladies as she pulled various items out of shopping bags and boxes.

They all turned to him with smiling faces when he entered. Emilia was smiling, too, but creases lined her forehead and shadows darkened her eyes. She was exhausted and overwhelmed.

Lady Claire gestured to the shopping bags. “Lady Emilia enjoys drawing landscapes, so I had Bailey fetch her some supplies.”

“Looks like he bought half the drawing supplies in London,” Colin said dryly.

“Oh, I don't think so. But I told him to be sure to buy something she would like.”

“I don't believe Bailey's very familiar with art products,” Lady Esme said, “so he must have bought one of everything he could find that was remotely related to art.” She held a book entitled
Drawing in Perspective Made Easy.

“This is very kind, but it's far too much,” Emilia murmured, gripping a package of what appeared to be lead pencils.

“Ladies, would you mind very much if I stole Lady Emilia away from you?” Colin said.

“Of course we mind,” Claire said crossly. “You would interrupt our attempts to bring Lady Emilia into our fold.”

“Claire!” Lady Grace exclaimed. Grace was Duncan Mackenzie's wife. She was also Claire's older sister and the more sedate of the two of them. “Don't listen to her, Colin. Of course we don't mind.”

“But only take her away from us for a moment,” Claire scolded. “We want her back as soon as possible. We'll be needing her to help us go through all this.” She gestured at the cluttered table.

Colin smiled but didn't say that Claire would probably be disappointed.

He took Emilia's arm and led her out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedchamber. Once he shut the door behind him, Emilia sank down onto his chair as if her body were deflating.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“Oh yes,” she said. “I am just not accustomed to so much…energy.”

He nodded. “Lady Claire can be a force of nature.”

“I think I am simply unused to being in the presence of other women.”

Colin tilted his head at her, thinking of the past year—how the vast majority of the times he'd seen her she'd been at home with no one but her bastard of a father for company.

“Do you remember last year when the Knights were guarding my father at Vauxhall Gardens?”

“Aye,” he said. He'd never forget that night—it was the night Ross had been stabbed and had nearly died.

“It was the only time I'd been out of the house for a social event in over a year.”

“Why?” he asked her.

“My father fears I will say something to embarrass him. Or reveal him.”

“I'm sorry, lass.”

She shrugged. “It's all right. I'm not a very social person to begin with, but it's so odd and somewhat overwhelming to suddenly find myself surrounded by four lovely, friendly women…especially…Well, especially after last night and the circumstances that brought me here.”

“I can imagine,” he said, something warm blooming in his chest. Now that the sharp edge of the trauma of what had happened yesterday was fading, she was beginning to talk to him. He'd had a feeling that might happen, and was glad it was happening so fast. Emilia was a resilient one.

“Anyhow…You wanted to speak with me about something?”

“Aye.” He took a deep breath then plunged ahead. “I'm taking you away from London.”

She blinked at him, then her gray-blue eyes went wide. “You are?”

He nodded. “It's too dangerous for you here.” Colin might not know what, exactly, Pinfield was guilty of, but he knew the man would do anything to protect his name. “If you stay in Town, he'll eventually find you.”

“But…where will we go?”

“North,” he said.

“How far north?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“To Scotland.”

She stared at him, her lips parted. He waited. She was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

Colin was fighting against revealing a fidget when she finally murmured, “Well, that sounds wonderful. I've always wanted to visit Scotland.”