Page 73 of Rogue with a Brogue
Sarah met his gaze squarely. “They are not,” she enunciated the same way he had, not having to pretend the uneasy quaver at the end.
“Then you won’t mind if we look for ourselves.” Releasing her, he angled his chin toward the depths of the house.
Her nephew left the room and headed back toward the small kitchen, while the second young man none too gently set Levitt aside and opened the front door, whistling. Immediately another half-dozen men, some of whom she recognized as her own relatives or husbands of her former friends and allies, tramped into her house.
“After what they’ve done to you, Sarah,” Sean roared, his face flushing, “I will not have these… Campbells in my house!”
She turned around to face him, not certain how much of his anger was feigned. Not much of it, she would guess. “Sean. Let them paw through our things. It’s the only way they’ll go and leave us be.”
“Yes, it is,” her brother agreed.
“And I hopeyourealize,” she continued, facing the Marquis of Fendarrow again, “that I would never do anything—anything—that would give you reason to appear on my doorstep.”
“Perhaps not.” The second young man returned to the sitting room, and Walter walked over to the doorway. “And perhaps you would leap at the chance to cause me harm. Either way, Donnell here will keep you company while I go see what sort of life you’ve made for yourselves. At the least I imagine it will be amusing.”
And yet you’re the one whose daughter has run off with a MacLawry,she wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut. Instead she grabbed her husband’s clenched fist and pulled him over to sit on the couch beside her. “I suppose we should be flattered that he thinks we’re so clever,” she muttered, knowing Donnell could hear her.
“I’d be flattered if he fell down the stairs and broke his bloody neck,” Sean grunted.
She snorted. “If I ever had any doubts that I chose the right man to give my loyalty to, this has answered it. I really do hate the Campbells, you know.”
“As do I. All but one of them.” Slowly he uncurled his fist and grasped her hand in his.
“Thank you for that, but I happen to be a Mallister.” And hopefully soon the one other Campbell for whom she had very recently developed a surprising affection would be a MacLawry.
***
If she’d had a pocket watch, Mary wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see that four or five or six hours had passed since they’d taken refuge in their little hole in the wall. She didn’t think she’d ever sat so still for so long in her life, but it still didn’t feel like enough. She slowed her breath, tried to slow her heartbeat—which was quite difficult considering that the entire right side of her body touched Arran.
He hadn’t moved, either, but she would never mistake his stillness and silence for helplessness. Danger and ready anger fairly radiated from him. She knew he had a pistol, and she knew he was listening for any reason to strike. The fact that he’d been unconscious twelve hours ago didn’t seem to concern him, though she didn’t think she would ever be able to forget the image of his still, pale face. And how… lost she’d felt at the idea of being without him.
It was as if she’d just discovered the sun with all its light and warmth, and then been faced with the prospect of never seeing it again. She needed to tell him that, but not here. Not now, when it might seem that all she wanted was his protection.
“… think she’d actually come here?” Charles Calder’s voice came from only a few feet away. She jumped, and Arran’s arm tightened across her shoulders.
“That depends,” her father’s deeper voice returned. “If that blood belonged to Mary, they’re likely nowhere near here. If it’s MacLawry who’s been injured, well, I expected to see her sitting by the road considering the best way to apologize for all this. She’s a clever thing, but she’s not about to carry MacLawry about and risk taking responsibility for shaming me and betraying the clan.”
So that was what her father thought of her. And a few weeks ago, his assessment would likely have been correct. She had become an expert in avoiding complications. What he hadn’t taken into account was Arran, and how brave he made her feel. Yes, she’d come here for assistance, but she hadn’t chosen to ask the help of her aunt because it was a way out of all this. She’d come because they needed a safe place to rest for a few days.
“I’m assuming I’ll still be marrying her once we straighten this out.”
Mary made a face in the silent dark.Not bloody likely,she thought to herself.
“The announcement’s been printed, my boy. As far as most of London is concerned, she’s at Fendarrow waiting for us to arrive for the wedding. I insist that you marry her. If she won’t make an alliance for us, I will see that she doesn’t make any further trouble.” The marquis’s voice came from nearer by; he must have been in the doorway to the storage closet.
“That’s all I ask. Well, except for one other small matter. In all the rush to catch up to them, you haven’t said what you mean to do about MacLawry.”
Her father made a disgusted sound. “This wardrobe wouldn’t look out of place in a barn,” he commented.
“Well, it was purchased on a banker’s salary,” Charles said smoothly, amusement in his voice. Good heavens, he was a sycophant. Mary had known that before, but she hadn’t actually listened to what a toady he was until now.
The marquis chuckled, and the stack of hat boxes fell over.No, no, no. She felt Arran shift ever so slightly, and knew he’d moved the pistol into his hand. If that wall panel moved, someone was going to die.
“But MacLawry?” Charles pressed, his voice close enough that she could likely reach out and touch him.
“You heard his brother. Glengask is so anxious to keep this tattered little truce that he’s ready to disown our large Highlander. It would be even easier if Arran simply vanished, don’t you think? His family could invent tales about how he escaped to the Colonies to begin a new life.”
“You’re not suggesting we let him go, I presume.”
