Page 75 of Rogue with a Brogue
“What’s that sound?” Howard asked.
“They’re kissing,” Peter answered.
Arran laughed against her mouth, and Mary joined him. Not even the blackest dark could stand against them. Not when they were together.
***
Arran almost wished Fendarrow and his clan would ride back to the house. Because at this moment, dented head or not, he was fairly certain he could take on the entire Campbell clan with one hand tied behind his back.
Mary loved him.
He kissed her again, wishing Peter and Howard had found another hole in which to hide so he could be alone and naked with her. While he wasn’t precisely at his best, he could likely manage that.
At the sound of rapid footfalls approaching he broke away from her mouth and firmed his grip on the pistol. “Be ready,” he breathed. The hidden door slid up. Even the relatively dim light that entered their hole seemed nearly blinding, but he narrowed his eyes and lifted the weapon.
“They’re gone,” Sean Mallister said, ducking his head into the opening. “Left a man behind on the nearest hillside to keep an eye on us, I imagine, but I spotted him the moment he rode up there.”
With a nod Arran pocketed the pistol again and motioned Mary toward the opening. “After ye, lass. Lads.”
When the rest of them had exited, he put his head back against the bare wood of the wall and blew out his breath. That had been too damned close. He hadn’t arranged the setting, but this was not how a Highlander dealt with trouble. And it was the last time he would hide from his foes in the dark.
Before anyone could crawl back in looking for him, he turned onto all fours, shut one eye against the throbbing, and exited the hidden room. The Campbells had left the hat boxes where they’d fallen, scattered across the floor of the storage closet.
“Let me help you,” Mary said, putting a hand beneath his shoulder and pulling.
He could stand up on his own, but this gave him the excuse to hold her close against him. “Thank ye, Mary.”
The spare bedchamber looked like it had been torn apart by wolves. The Campbells had even taken a knife to the mattress and ripped it open. Feathers littered the plain wooden floor and the blue rug before the hearth like white and gray leaves. And they’d done this not only to their own kin, but to a household that could ill afford to replace the items.
“This is inexcusable, Uncle Sean,” Mary said, a tear running down one cheek as she looked about the room. “I will repay you for the damage. I promise.”
“Wewill,” Arran amended.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” the banker returned, looking far less perturbed than Arran would have expected. “But it’s not necessary.”
Holding on to the railing, Arran trailed his small troop down the stairs. Now that he could see straight, he noted the tidy, simple rooms, the fresh flowers that seemed to take the place of expensive heirlooms, and the utter lack of family portraits on the walls. All these two people had was each other.
Sarah Mallister sat on the floor in the front sitting room as she gathered up bills and correspondence that had spilled out of a tipped-over writing desk. “Let me help you with that,” Mary said, releasing Arran and hurrying forward to kneel beside her aunt.
“Where’s the fellow ye spied?” Arran asked, facing Sean.
“Just up the hill on the far side of the road. I’d point at him from the window, but I fear he has a spyglass. And if he does, he can see everyone coming and going from here for two miles in either direction.”
“Unless he’s a damned cat,” Peter drawled, “he’ll nae see us in the dark.”
“Aye,” Arran agreed. “But it’s nae dark, so ye and Howard and bonny Mary stay away from the windows at the front of the hoose.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Howard said. “This house is too fancy for the likes of me.”
“‘Too fancy,’” Sarah repeated with a rueful laugh. “Bless you, sir.”
“I’m no sir, ma’am. Just Howard. Howard Howard.”
Arran exchanged an amused glance with Mary as the coachman left the room, Peter on his heels. “I thought he’d just declined to give us his other name.” He leaned back against the wall to help him keep his balance. “This couldnae have been an easy thing fer ye. We cannae thank ye enough fer giving us a moment or two to breathe.”
“Please don’t thank us, Lord Arran,” Sarah countered, letting Sean pull her and Mary to their feet and then giving her niece a tight hug.
“It’s just Arran to ye, if ye dunnae mind,” Arran said.
