Page 53 of Bargaining with the Devil

“It’s Nathaniel,” she said to Quinn, putting a hand cautiously on his forearm. He didn’t lower the pistol till Nathaniel came into view in the chamber’s doorframe.

Her brother-in-law became very still. A chill raced up her spine when his hand moved in a way that suggested he was reaching for a concealed weapon. How must it look, her and Quinn half dressed in her bed? Actually, Quinn wasn’t even half dressed. The blanket’s position made that clear.

“Nathaniel—” she began just as her brother-in-law said, “What in God’s name—?” His eyes moved between her face and Quinn’s several times before landing on Quinn for good.

Quinn laid down the pistol and sat up straighter, pulling her up with him so she needn’t push off with her sore arm. He didn’t let go of her, and he didn’t bother with the blanket.

Despite whatever appearances must suggest, Nathaniel was visibly revising his initial impression. Some—but not all—of the tension left his posture. “What has you in Scotland, Quinn?” His suspicious tone had shifted to something more businesslike.

Quinn too cut to the chase. “’Tis a long story, but made short for the minute, ’tis this: Jeremiah Compton’s brother is causing trouble here, and he’s after Lucy. Yourself too.”

“In fact, he caught up to me,” she offered. She gestured vaguely at the bandaging on her arm, only part of which was from the gunshot. Nathaniel and Isobel needn’t ever know the rest, especially with the gunpowder mark gone. “But I escaped with Quinn’s assistance.”

Nathaniel frowned. “Is it serious?”

“No.” She and Quinn answered simultaneously, emphatically, possibly too quickly to be reassuring. Nathaniel’s brows drew together.

“The wound is superficial,” she expanded. “Or so Quinn tells me.”

“’Twas from a pistol. A glancing blow.”

Nathaniel’s dark brows drew together again. “Perhaps over supper you’ll tell the full story.” The words were laconically presented but with steel at their core.

“Knowing Issy,” she returned, “it will be well before supper, as soon as she realizes something’s amiss.”

Nathaniel’s mouth lifted on one corner the way it did when he was truly amused. “Aye, it will be at that. She’s eager to see you. She’d have come here herself, but Rachel was fussy by the time we reached Auchencairn and fell asleep just before we arrived home. I told Isobel I’d let you know we were home and bring you over to dine with us, if you’ll come. Mrs. Bairden packed up some food for us before we left the Arms. Enough to feed a small army.”

Which was what they were beginning to assemble, with him and Quinn both present. “Yes, I’ll be over shortly.” She looked to Quinn. Not for permission, which she hoped her eyes and the set of her mouth conveyed, but confirmation.

He nodded. “Lymington won’t be harrying us more today,” he said to Nathaniel. “I knifed him a glancing blow just before he got the shot off, and then he put off to sea. Even if he returns, ’tis likely he’ll lie low for a few days. Still wasn’t taking chances when I heard the latch lift,” he added.

She was conscious suddenly that she was in a state of less than half dress in front of her brother-in-law. “I need to dress”—she gestured vaguely at her shift and bit off the giddy urge to mention that Quinn definitely needed to dress—“and then I’ll be over.”

“We’ll be over,” Quinn added.

“I’ll let Isobel know something of the situation.” Nathaniel’s eyes travelled between them again. What did he see, beyond the obvious? “You’ll be with Lucy in the meantime?” The final words were addressed to Quinn, more directive than question.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Quinn said softly, and then he seemed to catch the ambiguity of his words. “What I mean is, I’ll be sticking tight to Lucy till this is resolved. Where she goes, I go.”

Something wordless passed between the men, and Nathaniel nodded. “If I don’t see you two shortly, I’ll come back looking.” His mouth turned up again on one corner. “But I’ll knock louder next time.” He closed the door softly behind him.

“Are you ready for this, a mhuirnín? Talking to Blackmore about everything?”

She laughed. Laughed. When was the last time she’d felt light enough to find humor in something this serious? “Are you? For I suspect the more difficult questions may come from Isobel given how Nathaniel found us. He’ll not fail to mention this to her.” And by this she meant Quinn’s utter lack of smallclothes.

He smiled. “Aye, you likely have the right of that. Well, ’twill be an interesting conversation.” The smile faded. “But truly, are you prepared?”

“I understand that matters have become considerably more dangerous now that Lymington has made a move, and for that reason, I’ll not pretend the worst is over. But yes, I’m ready to discuss it. And I believe I’ll be just fine when we do.” She truly believed that. She’d faced worse.

And even if she wasn’t afterwards, she’d have Isobel and Nathaniel to lean upon—and Quinn too.

He brushed a hand along her cheekbone before sliding fingers into her hair and tilting her face towards his. “Then we’d best be getting dressed.” His words fell warm on her lips.

“You don’t seem ready to get dressed.”

“Mayhap not for a couple of minutes yet.” And he pulled her down onto him, kissing her.

Chapter 18