How to Abduct a Highland Lord (17 page)

 Jack noted the man’s pasty demeanor. Carlyse had been losing steadily for the past several hours and seemed more desperate by the moment.

 Jack placed a card on the table. “I’m still playing.” He met Carlyse’s gaze. “Are you?”

 The man’s swallow was audible, but he nodded jerkily. “Of course.”

 “Then play!” Cane said, holding his glass aloft and hoping a footman would catch sight of his dilemma.

 “Is this chair open?”

 Jack looked up to see one of Fiona’s brothers standing beside Carlyse’s chair. “What are you doing here, Gregor?”

 “Dougal and I came to see what mischief you might be in.”

 “How did you know where to find me?”

 Dougal wandered from the crowd behind Gregor, and leaned an arm against the back of Cane’s chair. “Hamish told us where you were.”

 “Do you mean to have me followed wherever I go?”

 Gregor nodded. “That’s about it.”

 Dougal caught sight of Cane’s empty glass. “Brandy?”

 Cane blinked in surprise. “Why, yes.”

 “I shall find a footman to bring us some. I’d fancy a glass myself.”

 “Good man!” De Laughsley pushed his empty glass forward as well.

 Dougal looked across the room to find a footman. “There’s one.” He cupped his hands about his mouth.“Yaw!”

 The room went silent.

 Jack winced.

 Dougal plucked Cane’s empty glass from the older man’s hand and waved it toward the footman, who stood, mouth agape, staring at Dougal. “Brandy!”

 The footman gulped, bowed, and rushed forward. Talk resumed immediately.

 “Well!” Cane said, brightening at his filled glass. “Thank you.” He looked at Dougal with raised brows. “Whoare you?”

 Dougal pulled an empty chair from a neighboring table and straddled it, crossing his arms over the chair back. “Kincaid, why don’t you introduce us?”

 “Aye.” Gregor bent down to Carlyse and said in a soft voice, “I believe you are done, my friend.”

 Carlyse looked astonished. “Here! How can you say that?”

 Gregor flicked a careless finger at Carlyse’s cards. “You’ve no face cards at all, and only one eight. I’d say you were done for.”

 Carlyse choked. “You cannot just read my cards aloud like that!”

 Gregor bent down until his face was even with Carlyse’s. “Why not?”

 The lord blinked, then stood so quickly he knocked a small stack of coins to the floor. “Gentlemen, I fear this gentleman may be right. I am finished. I should have stopped playing hours ago.” He bowed. “Good night.” He turned on his heel and left the room.

 Gregor took Carlyse’s empty chair. “Perhaps I should introduce myself and my brother. I am Gregor MacLean and this is Dougal. We are Kincaid’s in-laws.”

 “And greatest pains in the ass,” Jack added, throwing his cards to the table.

 Lord Cane chuckled. “I know what you mean. My wife’s brothers are forever haunting my house, asking for loans, eating me out of house and home.”

 De Laughsley nodded. “It’s the worst part of marriage.”

 Jack agreed. As Gregor picked up the tossed cards and began to shuffle them, Jack said, “Gentlemen, I believe I have spent long enough at this table.”

 “Oh?” Gregor’s gaze narrowed. “Going home, then?”

 “Where you belong?” Dougal added. “With yourwife ?”

 Cane and de Laughsley exchanged glances, then Cane cleared his throat. “Perhapswe should move to another table?”

 One of Jack’s footmen came up to the table. “Lord Kincaid? You have a message from Devonsgate. He said to tell you it is urgent, my lord.”

 Jack took the note:

 My lord, Lady Kincaid announced she would be out this evening. When I asked where, she said she was going “carousing.” That is a direct quote. Please advise. Devonsgate.

 Jack stood, his chair hitting the floor.

 How dare she?he fumed.God, what if something happens to her? What if—

 “Where are you going?” Gregor said, pushing back his own chair.

 “To find my wife.”

 “Findher?” Dougal stood as well. “Where is she?”

 “I don’t know,” Jack said grimly. “But when I find her, I shall turn her over my knee and remind her whyI am the one who—”

 Gregor’s brows snapped low. “You are the one who what?”

 “None of your business.” Jack pushed past his brother-in-law and headed for the door, his stride long and purposeful.

 By God, he’d make certain Fiona never went “carousing” again.

 Chapter Twelve

 ’Tis a horrid thing, to possess a power greater than you are. This is the curse of the MacLeans, to be out of control when their emotions run high and their blood runs hot. ’Tis a wicked curse, yet a smart one, for all that.

 OLDWOMANNORA OFLOCHLOMOND

TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT

 Fiona entered the Harringtons’ house with anticipation. Odd, she’d thought a gaming hell would be more decadent. Situated in one of the best parts of town, the house was large and well appointed. The windows were large, the glass mullioned. The rugs were beautiful, thick, and of rich designs. Everything sparkled and gleamed.

 People glanced her way, but no one seemed to think her out of place. A bit breathless at the taste of freedom, she walked into the main salon and brazenly met the gazes of several men who lounged about the doorway.

 Jack would not look away from a beautiful woman, so why should she look away from a handsome man? If any of them approached her, she’d have someone to talk to, and who knew? She might even make a friend or two. She soon found herself speaking to several rather flirtatious but polite gentlemen, a glass of lovely wine pressed into one of her hands, with music playing softly in the background as she talked and laughed.

 Fiona clutched her fan a bit tighter. The rooms were very crowded, but all in all, gaming hells were far less intimidating than she’d imagined.

 She noted the tables scattered here and there, the sounds of cards and dice, voices and laughter. She should watch a game or two to learn how to play before joining in. After a half hour, she felt confident enough to play. To her delight, she soon had a small pile of winnings.

 Her partners were three very different gentlemen. The first was Mr. Grantham, a pretentious braggart; only the amused contempt of her other partners made his presence bearable. The other two players were obviously gentlemen: Count d’Orsay, quite the handsomest man she’d ever met, and Lord Chessup, the youngest son of the earl of Stanwick.

 After a while, Fiona tired of playing. She collected her winnings and made her excuses to her partners, who all begged her to stay that they might recoup their money. But the room had gotten hotter over the last hour, and she wished to stand by a window for some fresh, cool air.

 A small orchestra had begun to play somewhere else in the house, and Fiona tapped her foot unconsciously as the orchestra played a lively Scottish reel.

 A warm hand wrapped around her elbow, and Fiona turned to find a stranger holding her arm. He was tall, with black hair and vivid blue eyes. They weren’t as bright as Jack’s, or as deep in color, but the contrast with his hair was startling.

 Fiona didn’t think him precisely handsome, though he was certainly striking and had presence.

 “I’m sorry,” she said, removing her elbow from his grasp. “Do I know you?”

 Her companion smiled ruefully, his relaxed manner setting her instantly at ease. “I was going to say something witty, but I can see you don’t even remember me.” He bowed. “My name is Alan Campbell. I know your brothers and your husband.”

 That was a relief. “How lovely. I am sorry I did not recognize you.”

 He shrugged. “We’ve only met once before, and it was long ago. I’d heard you were in town and had married Kincaid. I should have called, but…I have no excuse.”

 “I have only been in town a few days.”

 “I know.” The man’s wry smile grew. “Your husband has been keeping you close.”

 She wished that were true. “How do you know Jack?”

 “Kincaid and I have known each other a long time.” He glanced around, his gaze finding a nearby alcove with a thickly cushioned settee. “Would you like to sit?”

 “Yes, please,” she said gratefully. Soon they were settled on the settee. She peeped at him through her lashes, noting how elegant he appeared in his blue coat and buff breeches. With his dark hair, he reminded Fiona a bit of Gregor.

 Campbell’s gaze followed the bustle of the crowd. “This is a nice little entertainment, isn’t it?”

 “Little? It looks as if every person in London is here! I never thought a gaming hell would be so crowded.”

 He laughed. “A gaming hell? What gave you that idea?”

 “Why…I thought…The coachman said Jack sometimes comes here.”

 “The Harringtons always have cards, but they are hardly a gaming hell.”

 “Oh,” she said, a bit disappointed.

 He chuckled at her expression. “If you’d like, I would be glad to take you to some gaming hells.”

 “Will they be scandalous?”

 “Some are, and some are quite respectable. I think you might find the scandalous ones a bit much. Others are quite unexceptional except for the level of play. They can be steep.” His eyes twinkled down at her. “I take it you like to play cards?”

 Fiona triumphantly held her reticule aloft so that it swung heavily from her wrist. “I won a good bit tonight already!”

 He laughed, moving a little closer, his shoulder against hers. “I shall have to take care that I do not lose my funds to you. It’s a good thing we met; I can sponsor you for some of the better hells.”

 She tilted her head to one side. “Sponsor?”

 “Yes, someone must vouch for you. It’s the only way to keep the lower classes out. I am certain you’ll be admitted.” A faintly bitter twist touched Campbell’s mouth. “Black Jack is received everywhere. Once people know you are his wife—” He shrugged.

 “And you?” she asked, tilting her head to one side. “Are you received everywhere?”

 “Everywhere there is not an anxious mama with a marriageable daughter.”

 Fiona laughed. “I can see you are a dangerous man.”

 Something flickered behind Campbell’s eyes. He did have amazingly blue eyes, all the more vivid for his black hair. They weren’t as piercing as Jack’s, though. Jack’s eyes robbed one of speech, stole one’s breath, and made the most intimate thoughts invade one’s brain. Campbell’s eyes were just…a lovely blue.

 He regarded her for a long moment. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

 She pursed her lips. “Not today, no.”

 He chuckled. “That is a crime. Whatis that husband of yours thinking?” He leaned forward, his breath brushing her ear. “If you weremy wife, you’d hear that every day.”

 “Which would make it ever so tedious. Repeating compliments cheapens them.”

 Campbell glanced about the room. “Where is Kincaid? I did not see him in the card room.”

 “He had another engagement this evening,” she said with credible nonchalance.

 “So you came alone? You and Kincaid must be one of those modern couples who do not forever lock arms when you go out.”

 “We have our own lives,” Fiona said coolly.

 “If you weremy wife, you would not be here alone.”

 “Then it is a good thing we are not married, Mr. Campbell. I would greatly resent being told what to do.”

 “A woman of spirit. How amusing.”

 “A man of improper address. How boring.”

 His laughter rang out. “Jack clearly has his hands full. You are a lovely, spirited woman, Lady Kincaid.” He took her hand. “I enjoy that very much.”

 She pulled free, noticing that some couples had begun to dance. “I love the Scottish reels. Do you dance, Lord Campbell?”

 His smile told her he had noticed her change of topic, but he said, “I do indeed. Would you like to join the next set?” He bent closer and said in a low voice, “I would be honored to partner the loveliest woman here.”

 She’d thought it would be exciting to be admired, but in all honesty, she was finding it annoying. Rather like listening to one’s aunt tell one how pretty one was. Of course, it wasn’t merely being admired that was nice; it was being admired by someoneyou admired in return.

 She looked at Campbell. “I wonder that Jack has never mentioned you.”

 Campbell shrugged. “Your husband has no love for me, nor I for him.”

 “Why is that?”

 “A little disagreement over a woman.”

 “Oh?”

 Campbell’s gaze flickered past Fiona to the other side of the room.

 Fiona followed his gaze. Surrounded by a crowd of men was a tall, blond, striking woman. “That woman?”

 “Yes. Lady Lucinda Featherington.”

 Fiona gripped her reticule tighter. “You had an argument with Jack over that woman?”

 “Yes. We both wished to be her…friend.”