Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance) (8 page)

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Authors: Anya Karin

Tags: #historical romance, #highland romance, #eighteenth century fiction, #scotsman romance, #scottish romance, #scottish historical romance, #scottish historical, #Historical Fantasy, #highlander story, #scotland historical romance, #highlander romance

BOOK: Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance)
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I wonder how they are? Olga and her funny ways,
Elena and her never-ending kindness.
She turned back and forth, inspecting her
work. Not as good as when the two of them, or when her mother, were in charge
of getting her together, but Kenna was nonetheless impressed with how well
she’d done, even if she couldn’t strap her corset quite as snugly as she would
have liked doing it by herself.

Just then, as she continued to study herself, the
door to the inn opened, and she heard Rollo call out to her. She turned to leave,
and when she did, remembered her little pencil and notebook. She stuck the
bundle underneath her sash and once again smoothed everything down to make sure
it was all invisible.

“Coming!” She called as she opened her door.

Keep yourself together, Kenna. Gavin’s only a
day’s ride away. He’ll be back before you know it.

That was all she needed to hear, even if it came
from her own lips. Stealing one last glance in the reflecting glass, she
decided to do something she’d never done before. She stuck two fingers
underneath the high collar of her gown, and fished out the delicate chain
holding her thistle, pulled it, and looked at it in the mirror, on the outside,
after being hidden for so very long.

I’m yours, Gavin. Always and forever
.

Seven  

E
dinburgh

August 17, Late Morning

––––––––

“W
e’re not like to find him here
this
early,”
Lynne said.

Her irritation at sitting around outside the
various taverns and pubs on Rose Street until someone caught a glimpse of
Sheriff Alan was just about to boil over.

“Goes to show just how little you know about our
angry friend,” John said with a smirk. “Here’s the barkeep.”

“Excuse me there, sir!” John called. The man
turned. He was tall, round, and stub-nosed, but smiled cheerily enough.

“What-ho?”

“Well we were wondering if you could help us. You
see, we’ve been looking for a man about yay high,” John measured Alan’s height
off against the wall where he stood. “Last I saw him, the fellow was rather
disheveled and had a hat that was sitting more or less on his head.”

“Alan?” The barkeep said then grunted a laugh.
“The old sheriff? Aye, I seen him. Threw him out. Twice in one night.”

“That was easier than I thought. I figured on
having to hunt for him a little.”

“Ach! He’s been tearing up and down Rose since he
showed up again. Weren’t a rare sight when he was still the sheriff, but since
he’s been back – by the way, he was sayin’ he escaped from prison? Sounded like
sheepshit to me – he canna seem to stop sucking down drink.”

“Do you expect him to show again? We need to, ah,
speak with the former sheriff.”

“Expect him? Aye. Want him? No. He’s an awful
liability, especially with how he abuses the staff.”

At that, Lynne laughed out loud. “There’s a
surprise, aye?”

John just shook his head.

“Any rate, what’re you pair? Police?”

“Ever seen police what look like her?”

“I admit I ‘aven’t. I’m blind in one eye though,
so I also admit I dinna actually see – oh, but I wish I’d seen her insteada you
now that I notice.”

“Aye, she is quite a sight, isn’t she friend?”

“I’m right here!”

“Oh sorry about that. I get carried away is all.
But aye, if you stay around long enough and he’s not dead in a gutter
somewhere, the damned sheriff will be back, ready to fight and spit all over’n
everything before long. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve to get ready for the day.
Lots of pasties to fry.”

“Sure, friend. And here,” John plucked a Crown out
of his sporran. “For your troubles.”

“Wasn’t any trouble, but I won’t say no.”

As the barkeep first unlocked, and then sauntered
inside, John turned to Lynne, nodded, and then immediately wrapped his arms
around her waist.

“What’s this, you predator?” She said, laughing
and swatting at him playfully.

“It’s just that,” he paused to kiss her, soft and
sweet. “As I was talking to him, I thought about how lucky I am to have you.”
He brushed his lips against Lynne’s cheek, then her throat before sucking her
lip between his teeth and grinning.

“Is that so, John Two-fingers? I expect you’ll be
wanting a compliment now?” She ran her hand down the side of his leg, squeezed
his knee, and drew it up the other side until it slid beneath his kilt.

“Ach, no, what I was saying is I’m lucky to have
you because you’re a little prettier than he was.” He nodded in the direction
of the bar.

“John, you foul beast!” On the inside of his thigh,
a few inches above his knee, Lynne grabbed a big pinch of skin between her
thumb and forefinger, and twisted until John squealed. “That’s for being
awful!”

“Ah! And she says I’m the awful one!” John laughed
as he squirmed.

A moment later, his hands moved from Lynne’s waist
to the back of her head, he pulled her close and kissed her deep, pushing her
back against the wall.

“I can forgive you, I suppose,” she whispered.

“Aye, you can? I’m so glad.” John’s lips moved
along her jaw to behind her ear.

“This time, anyway.”

––––––––

“W
hat if we do find him?” Elena said to Rodrigo in
the Spanish of their native Castile as he kicked one of his feet up against the
wall of the pub at which they were stationed to watch for the sheriff.

“If?”

“The others might find him first.”

“Hmm, they may, they may. But one of us will.
We’ll see the weasel soon. And when we do I’ll temper my steel in his stomach.”

Elena’s eyes darkened. “You tried to kill him
before, too, and Gavin and John stopped you then. Why try again? Why not let it
go and be happy?”

“He tried to ruin my life, dear love, I can’t let
go of the anger he put in my heart. I want to. I want to be free of the hate
he’s made me feel but I can’t.” His fingers closed around the hilt of his
rapier and he squeezed until his knuckles went white.

“Rod, you have to leave it alone. You’re not you
anymore, not since-”

“Don’t. Just don’t say his name. I can’t hear it
or I’ll go mad.”

She put her hand on her husband’s shoulder and
rubbed him gently over his tunic. “What would bring you peace? What can I do?”

“You do, some. Nothing else can though. You make
me calm when I become so enraged I feel like my skin is burning, but that’s all
you can do. That’s all anyone can do until my soul finds peace.”

“How can you? All I want is to see you happy
again, like you were at home.”

At that, Rodrigo shifted his weight to his other
foot, kicked at a rock that had fallen loose from the cobbled street, and
laughed. “That was a different life, dear love. A different place.”

“It was not so long ago. Not so long at all. You
weren’t even this angry when you were being moved around all the time from one
war-front to another. Why are you so full of hate?”

He finally let go of the sword and wrung his
hands.

“I...wish I knew.”

Elena breathed a heavy sigh. “It’s not just him. I
know it isn’t. You’d never let another man control you like that. You’re too
strong. You’re too...Rodrigo.”

He laughed honestly, and loud. “That I am, my
love. That I am. In truth, I can’t tell you. I wish more than anything that I
knew. This anger makes my heart ache, you know?”

“What I know is that you’re a good man – a
beautiful man. You have the kindest spirit I’ve ever felt, and when you smile
you light up rooms. When you frown, you darken them. And you’ve been frowning
an awful lot. I want to find some way to get the darkness out of you, but first
I need to figure out what got it there in the first place.”

As she spoke, Rodrigo cast his walnut-colored eyes
to a man sleeping against a pub’s wall. “This,” he said. “This man,” he tilted
his head in the fellow’s direction, “this is suffering. That someone must sleep
outside, drunk and alone.”

“You’ve been drunk and asleep against walls a time
or two that I remember,” Elena chuckled when she noticed she got a smile out of
her husband.

“But I always had a place to lay my head should I
manage to stumble home. Him? He has no home. Probably no one cares, either.
It’s just...”

“Or maybe he’s got a wife? Maybe he just drank too
much? I don’t know about him, and you don’t either, but the first thing you
thought was of suffering. That’s not Rodrigo.”

She put her hands on his chest, pushing the laced
opening apart and letting his skin warm her hands. “I just worry that you’re
going down a dark path with no way to come back from it. It would be a tragedy
if a heart as sweet and lovely as yours-”

“It’s injustice,” he said softly. His eyes never
left the sleeping man against the wall. “I think I never saw it before coming
here. Not even in war did I see this. These people, they work and then they
suffer under the heels of these lords who-”

“There is injustice everywhere, dear heart, but
now you’ve got something you can do about it.”

“I do?” His voice was incredulous. “What is it?”

“Look at him,” Elena said, pointing to John. “And
at him” she indicated Gavin. “Well maybe not John right now because he’s
occupied.” She giggled as Lynne and John were obviously enjoying themselves
much more than either of the other two couples. “But those two men are doing
something
.
They might not be changing the world every time they lift a finger, but at
least they’re trying, and by God they made this town a better place. This awful
sheriff who ruined so many lives? He’s powerless. Laird Macdonald and his
scheme that would have done so much harm? Shamed by his own greed. That’s
something, Rodrigo, and now you’re with them. Use this chance to make your soul
whole again.”

Her words obviously bit deep. Rodrigo chewed his
lip and tried to process what she’d told him.

“If that’s true, then I’m already helping people.”

“You
are
! That’s what I’m trying to tell
you, Rod. Alan, and getting Kenna and Gavin together was as much your deed as
it was anyone else’s! The world isn’t going to change all at once, but you’re
doing things that make it a little better bit by bit.”

As Rodrigo leaned back, his leather trousers
sliding against the rough wood of a broken shutter that had fallen off the side
of a building, he reached out and took hold of one of Elena’s hands, twining his
fingers between hers. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“For talking to me and making all of this sensible.
I couldn’t have done it without you. That’s for sure.”

Elena watched Rodrigo’s face, studied the gentle
lines in his cheeks as she stroked the back of his hand with her fingertips.

“But we’ve got work to do. Or waiting to do, I
suppose. We can’t sit here and talk all day. What if we miss him?”

“Somehow I doubt we will.” Rodrigo’s eyes moved
away from Elena’s face and off to the left, tracking something. “Look.”

There, not fifty yards from the tip of his sword,
was the man they pursued. Sheriff Alan bobbled out of a small inn, looking
rather disheveled.

“Almost noon,” Rodrigo said, grinning. “Time to
get out of bed.” His hand went to the hilt of his rapier, but Elena grabbed him
before he could unsheathe the weapon.

“Remember what I said, alright?”

“Yes, it’s just a habit of nerves. Trust me. He
doesn’t see me. Either that, or he’s still too drunk to realize what’s going
on. That’s always a possibility.”

The sheriff turned his head and spat a stream of
tobacco onto the road. Rodrigo grimaced, remembering all the times the sheriff
made him cut chew.

“He’s going toward Gavin. Do you think he’s
noticed yet?”

Rodrigo squinted against the high sun, shielded
his eyes with a hand and tried to see. “Looks like has.”

As Rodrigo watched, the hooded Gavin moved slowly
toward where the sheriff was bumbling about in the road. The sheriff stepped in
the puddle he’d just spat, and both Elena and Rodrigo recoiled at once. Then,
he remembered the whistle they’d agreed to use when one group or another found
the sheriff. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, and chirped rather like a
grouse.

The sheriff, of course, didn’t lift an eyebrow. Instead
he just stumbled along, completely and happily oblivious.

––––––––

“M
ister Gavin, I do wish I had more time to admire
the curvature of your arms,” Olga said as Gavin pulled away and focused on an
unfortunate looking figure tottering around in the road.

“Sorry Olga, I was enjoying the massage.” Gavin
grinned and squinted. “I think that’s him. Did you hear that sound? The
whistle?”

“Oh yes Mister Gavin I did, and I would have said
something sooner but I was too busy with-”

“Yes, right, with my...uh...muscles.” Gavin
couldn’t help but laugh lightly under his breath. In the ten hours they’d known
one another, he’d developed quite a fondness for the round German woman who
took such good care of his lady love when she’d been stuck in Macdonald’s
mansion. But still, her insistence on rubbing parts of his body was a little
unnerving.

“Stay low,” Gavin whispered. “We canna alert him.
Although judging from the way he’s walking, our friend is rather senseless at
the present time.”

“How do you mean?”

“He appears to have a rather bad case of
drunkenness.”

They had managed to get near enough to hear Alan
grumble something, spit on the road, and then accidentally step in his own
expectorate and then swear about it.

“What an ill-mannered creature,” Olga hissed. “To
spit and use such language.”

“Ach, I couldna agree more, ma’am. Come on, quiet.
Good, like that.”

To prevent her making any more noise than
necessary, Gavin put his hand on Olga’s back, which made her giggle and turn
back to grin at him, and then pushed her gently ahead of him. In this way they
slowly, ever so slowly, crept forward along a low wall. Every few steps, Gavin
poked his head up to make sure the sheriff had not gone anywhere, although he
knew he had his doubts the sheriff was capable of such a thing.

“God damn shoe,” Alan grunted when he turned about
in a circle and stepped in his spit for the third time, and then spat again. “How
are my socks wet?”

Gavin couldn’t help but roll his eyes and shake
his head. Olga, as scandalized as she was by the man’s poor public behavior,
also seemed rather amused by the way he was slowly turning in a circle,
carefully examining the wall beside him and running his hand along the lines of
mortar between the bricks.

Reaching back, Gavin pulled the rope out of his
belt that was intended to go around Alan’s wrists, and moved forward another
few steps. “Wait here,” he said to Olga. “I’ll need you to stay here to make
sure he doesn’t double back or get around me somehow.”

“Right, I can do that,” Olga said.

The next time Gavin looked over the wall, Alan had
his back turned and was leaned against the side of a building with one hand,
and wrestling with the buttons on his trousers. He dropped back down and
sighed. He checked, grinning at Olga’s exaggerated forward lean. She was ready
for whatever came her way, though Gavin didn’t think it would come to that.
Down the narrow alley, Rodrigo crossed into his field of vision and signaled
that they should jump over the wall. Gavin nodded, but signed to wait.

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