Page 35 of Rogue with a Brogue
“If I go away with you, Charles will try to kill you,” she said, opening her eyes again.
“The past fortnight is the only time in the past ten years he hasnae tried to kill me. I’d even say I’m accustomed to nearly being killed.”
She tugged at his lapels again. “What do you want?”
“I’m here, am I not? I want ye to come with me, lass. I know it’s mad, and I dunnae go aboot asking women to run away with me. But every pound of me says I’m nae to give ye up. Nae withoot a word, and nae withoot a fight.”
Hearing that sent her heart beating again. “And what if wearecompatible?”
Slowly, deliberately, Arran kissed her again. “Then the rest of the world be damned.” He slid his hands down her hips. “Ye can say all this is sinful, but I say we’ll be committing a greater sin if we dunnae walk through that door. Together.”
“But it is my decision.”
He nodded. “Aye. I cannae steal ye away if ye dunnae wish to be stolen.”
If he’d insisted, she would have refused. He’d given her a choice, though. And with a definite Charles Calder on one side and a chance to be with Arran—or at least to talk to her grandfather about all this—on the other, the decision was actually a simple one. In fact, she was half convinced she only hesitated so she wouldn’t look too eager.
“Steal me away then, Arran MacLawry.”
“Aye. With pleasure, Mary Campbell.”
Chapter Nine
Arran let out the breath he was certain he’d been holding since sometime yesterday. By God, she’d agreed to come with him. And as far as he was concerned, Deirdre and the Stewarts could all go to the devil. And if Ranulf chose not to remove his blinders, he could follow them.
“We’ve nae much time, then,” he said, taking her hand again and leading her toward the clearing where his rented coach waited—unless Peter had convinced the driver to return to London so he could report to Glengask. When the vehicle came into view he was actually surprised.
“I knew it!”
Swearing, Arran whipped around. Her skirts hiked to her knees, the maid, Crawford, galloped through the meadow at them. “Let’s be off,” he grunted, moving faster.
“She’ll rouse the entire inn with her screeching,” Mary countered, pulling against him. “Hush, Crawford!”
The servant stopped squawking, but didn’t slow her approach. Instead she jabbed a finger at Arran. “I knew you were that farmer, MacLawry. I knew it!”
He straightened. “Lord Arran,” he said succinctly. Whatever Mary chose to do about the maid, he wasnotgoing to be lectured by a Sasannach servant.
It seemed to have the desired effect, because she stopped short of trying to bowl him over. And though she was a substantial lass, he was far more solid than she. Instead Crawford squared her shoulders, puffing up like an angry chicken. “LordArran,” she snapped, “you will unhand Lady Mary at once, or I shall scream bloody murder.”
“Crawford, you will do no such thing.” Mary continued to grip his hand tightly, which he found more significant than anything else. She wanted to go with him.
“I will. I swear it.”
“Well, we cannae have that, can we?” Arran flicked the fingers of his free hand, and Peter disappeared around the back of the coach. “Ye see, a good part of my plan, such as it is, rests on Mary’s family nae knowing quite where to look fer her. If ye squawk aboot her being with me, ye’ll nae be doing her any favors.”
“Not going anywhere at all with you will be doing her a greater favor.”
Peter emerged at the edge of the trees behind them. The footman hadn’t forgotten what he’d learned during his time in the army, anyway. A strip of cloth in his hands, he crept up behind the maid. Arran gave a slight nod, and the footman pounced.
The cloth swept around the maid’s mouth, and the two of them grabbed her hands and feet and set her flat on the ground. “Get more rope.” Arran grunted as she kneed him in the gut. “Damnation! We’ll lash her to a tree.”
“Stop this at once!” Mary barked, shoving at his shoulders.
“If we dunnae give ourselves a bit of time to disappear to the north, I may as well drive ye to Fendarrow and hand ye over to Calder, myself. And I’ll nae do that.”
Mary knelt down by her maid’s head. “Crawford will come with us, then.”
Arran blinked, ignoring the muffled cursing going on by his knee. “Are ye mad, lass? How can we make an escape with her yowling every moment?”
