How to Blackmail a Highlander (The MacGregor Lairds) Page 15

  Alice…his Alice…covered in blood…

  He couldn’t erase the image from his mind. Finding her in that clearing. Fighting off that man. Covered in blood.

  The pent-up emotions of the last few hours were beginning to boil over, and he suddenly had no desire to keep them in.

  “She promised me, John. Promised she’d obey this once and stay put. And where do I find her? Out in the bloody woods, fighting off Ramsay and two of his men with naught but a pregnant woman and a maid.”

  “They had a bit more than that,” John reminded him.

  “It doesna matter! If she’d listened, she never would have been in danger. How am I supposed to spend my life with a woman who willna listen to reason? I dinna expect her to blindly obey my every whim, but when she is so stubborn and bullheaded and impulsive that I canna even trust her to do what’s best to save her own neck? We’ll spend our whole lives at each other’s throats.”

  “Ye’re wedded and bedded, if I’m no’ mistaken,” John said gently, with a touch of his old humor in his voice. “What’s done is done. It’s naught but yer fear for her talkin’ now.”

  “Maybe so, maybe no’,” Philip said. “She’d still be safer in London. She could still return home. Tell everyone I died in the latest attack. She could go back to her old life. She’d probably be happier that way.”

  “And you?” a voice said behind him. “You could go back to your life as if I never existed? Simple as that?”

  Philip spun around to find Alice standing behind him, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, clad in her shift and bare feet, a blanket pulled tight around her. She looked so achingly beautiful he wanted to drop to his knees in front of her and worship her like the goddess she was. But he shoved all that away. They would both be better off if they went their separate ways. Life would be…simpler again. They were too different. They’d proved that over and over. She wasn’t suited for this life. She should be wandering marbled palace halls, not fighting for her life in the heather.

  Philip let his silence be his answer. Alice nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her fire had dimmed. That once brilliant light in her eyes that drew him to her despite his better judgment. His heart clenched at that. Fractured a bit more. It would shatter completely when she walked away.

  But it was best. He had to believe that.

  She visibly pulled herself together and looked at John. “How is Bess?”

  “She’s well, my lady. Fretting that it was her fault the three of you ended up in the forest.”

  Alice shook her head. “Philip was right. It was my fault.”

  His head jerked up, and he started to argue that, though he agreed with her.

  But Alice pressed on. “Elizabet wasn’t well, wasn’t thinking clearly. I wanted to make her happy, but I knew we should stay put. I thought it would be okay. It wasn’t. She might have listened to me, but instead I led her right into danger. Danger that wouldn’t have been on our doorstep in the first place if it wasn’t for me. Ramsay told me he’d followed me. Knew that if I’d run off, I’d run to Elizabet. And now Ramsay has attacked, and my sister is in Woolsmere’s clutches. Good men have died, Elizabet and your child may be in danger, Rose and William are God knows where…and now my sister… So many lives that have been and may still be destroyed. And it is all my fault.”

  She met Philip’s gaze, though she almost flinched. “You were right all along. I’m too impulsive. You’re too rigid. We’ll kill each other inside of a year. Why should we both be miserable over an accidental marriage? If you wish to be dead to me, so be it.”

  “Alice…”

  She turned away from him again to address John. “I do not wish to return home until I have healed. My return will cause enough of a stir without adding a face full of bruises. Perhaps I can stay until Bess has delivered. There should be some months before my sister will wed. I have time, I think. If you’ll continue to offer me your hospitality until then…”

  “Of course, my lady,” John said, with a brief glance at Philip. “Whatever you wish.”

  She nodded her thanks and then turned back to Philip. “Perhaps it would be best if you returned to Glenlyon. I’m sure they could use the extra hand. If you prefer not, then I’ll go. I can return to visit…”

  He shook his head. “Ye’ll be happier here with the Lady Elizabet. I’ll go.”

  She stared at him a moment, pain shining from her eyes. “Well then.” Her voice trembled, and she cleared her throat. “As that is settled, I’ll go look in on Elizabet.”

  Philip nodded, and she turned and walked out as if she were a queen dripping in jewels, instead of a broken girl wrapped in bedsheets.

  “Ye’re a fool,” John said, and the anger in his voice made Philip look at him with surprise.

  “I’m trying to do what’s best for both of us. She’d never be happy here, with me.”

  “Oh? And how do ye ken that?”

  “Ye’ve seen us together. We do nothing but fight. She argues every word out of my mouth.”

  “Aye, and ye both enjoy every second of it.”

  Philip ignored that, mostly because he didn’t want to admit that his cousin was right. “I canna trust her. She gave me her word…”

  “Aye, and she did her best to keep it. Elizabet said that Alice tried to prevent her from leaving the safety of that room, but when she pressed, Alice accompanied her to hurry her along. And ye complain enough about her impulsive nature, but her ability to act without questioning every action is what saved them today.”

  “That may not always be the case. Even if it were, even if our very natures werena at complete odds, she’s no’ suited for life here.”

  “Oh? And why is that? My wife has done wonderfully. As has the Lady Sorcha.”

  “The Lady Sorcha is wife to our laird and lives in a fine castle, and ye’ve given yer lady this manor to live in.”

  John snorted. “Aye, a crumbling pile of stone that is barely habitable.”

  “Now. But someday soon it will be a fine manor again and yer lady can live her days in comfort. What have I to offer? I’ve no vast estates to inherit.”

  “Ye have land. That’s a fair sight better than nothing.”

  “No’ by much. She’s the daughter of an earl. She has no place here as the wife of a beleaguered laird of a mound of dirt with no’ even a home on it to rest her head.”

  “Then build her one. Maybe ye should let her judge where her place is.”

  Philip shook his head. “She never meant for any of this to happen. She wanted only to see her friend. Our marriage is no marriage. And with Ramsay’s attack, it would be reasonable to assume I’d died. She can go back to her own life where she’ll be pampered and spoiled, and I can…”

  “Aye? Ye can what?”

  Philip shook his head. “It doesna matter.” He stood and gathered his sword and coat. “I’ll take my leave now. I dinna wish to inflict my presence on her further. If…” He hesitated to say it. Best to make a clean break. But he didn’t want to abandon her entirely. “If she has need of anything…”

  “I ken where ye’ll be.”

  Philip nodded and marched out, forcing himself to walk away before he gave in to the voice screaming in his head to turn around.

  It was for the best. No matter how wrong it felt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alice pulled the blanket tighter and lay against the pillows with Elizabet.

  “Are you sure this is what you really want?” Elizabet asked her.

  “It’s what he wants. I can’t fight him anymore. And besides, he’s been right about everything. Don’t you dare tell him that.” She shrugged. “But he’s right about this, too.”

  “What else has he been right about?”

  “He said that Ramsay was watching me. That me insisting on finding you would lead Ramsay right to you. I didn’t want to listen. But he was right.” She laid her head on Bess’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Bess. All of this is my fault. He never would have foun
d you if it wasn’t for me.”

  “Hush. The man was insane. He would have found me eventually. I’m glad it happened now, before the babe was born.” Her hand curled protectively over her belly, and Alice smiled.

  “There is that, I suppose. But it could have ended so horribly.”

  “But it didn’t. No use fretting over what will never happen.”

  Bess was kind to say so, but Alice would never forgive herself.

  “What will you do, then?” Bess asked. “Will you truly return home?”

  Alice hesitated for a moment. Then she sighed. “I must. I will not let Mary suffer for my sins. My return will surely put a stop to any plans to wed her to Woolsmere. If one of us must be his wife, it will be me. Though I should hope that the scandal of my return will make Woolsmere run far from both of us.” She gave Elizabet a faint smile. “Even if it weren’t for Mary, I can’t stay here forever.”

  “And why not? John and I would be happy to have you for as long as you’d like. I’ll need help when this one comes. I’d like you to be here.”

  Alice smiled but shook her head. “Being here would mean seeing him too often. Glenlyon is too close for comfort. Besides, what use would I be here? I don’t know how to do anything. I’ve never had to do anything for myself, let alone for anyone else.”

  “Neither had I. You’ll learn, as I did.”

  “Perhaps.” She gave Elizabet a wry smile that she hoped hid the sadness that threatened to drown her. “See what I mean about him always being right? I didn’t think any of this out. I didn’t think of anything besides getting to you. Escaping from a situation I didn’t want to be in. I didn’t really think how it would affect my parents. Or sweet Mary. I can’t prove my suspicions about Lord Woolsmere. Maybe he really is a harmless old man with bad luck in wives. Maybe my fears were nothing more than an ill-prepared girl frightened of her future. Even if he is everything I thought him to be, bringing danger to your door to escape my own was unforgivable.”

  “Ah, Alice, my dear friend. You are far too hard on yourself.”

  “Am I? I think I have not been hard enough.”

  Elizabet hugged her. “Promise me you’ll not leave unless you truly wish to. You’ll always have a home with me.”

  “Thank you, Bess. I’ll stay. Until this heals, at least,” she said, gesturing to her face.

  Though she truly meant that she’d stay until she couldn’t bear it anymore. She didn’t wish to return home, but she wouldn’t have many other options if she left Kirkenroch. And despite Elizabet’s assurances, she didn’t think she’d be able to stay and avoid Philip. Alice had heard the stories. He was John’s cousin and close friend. They had ridden together during their highwayman days. Risked their lives for each other countless times. If she were not there, Philip would be living at Kirkenroch, and surely, now that they were all settled, he’d want to help his dearest kinsman rebuild his home. But because of her, he was leaving John’s side. He wouldn’t be far, true. But Alice’s presence was depriving John of a loyal and true brother-in-arms. She didn’t have any right to do that.

  And she realized that Philip had been right about many things, but one in particular. Her impulsiveness had nearly led to disaster. And she wouldn’t be impulsive this time. She’d take the time to carefully weigh her options and decide which was best before she made a decision. Though, since her options were to stay with Elizabet or return home, it really wasn’t a difficult decision. But it wasn’t one that brought her joy to contemplate.

  She could postpone it for a week or two. But she feared the day when she’d have to say goodbye to Kirkenroch forever and return where she belonged.

  …

  The third time Philip dropped his sword, Malcolm shook his head. “No more for today.”

  Philip wiped his brow, his chest heaving. “I’m fine.”

  “No, ye’re not. Ye havena been fine since ye came back here with yer tail between yer legs, three weeks ago.”

  Philip glowered at his laird. “Ye ken very well why I returned.”

  “Aye, I do. Because ye lost yer heart to an English lass and it scares the living piss out of ye.”

  Philip wasn’t sure if he should laugh or challenge Malcolm to a duel for impugning his honor. He finally put down his sword, sighed, and said the only thing he could. “Aye. It does.”

  Malcolm’s eyebrow rose a notch. “I must admit, I didna expect ye to agree so quickly.”

  Philip shrugged. “It changes nothing.”

  Malcolm shook his head and wiped the back of his neck with his shirt sleeve. “I need a drink.”

  He strode back inside, and Philip followed, although if he were wise he’d head for the stables. He’d no wish to hear the lecture Malcolm would soon unleash.

  In truth, he’d been repeating the same lecture to himself since the moment he’d ridden away from Kirkenroch. For all the grief he’d given Alice over her impetuous ways, he hadn’t spared much thought to leaving her. Oh, he still believed it was the best course of action and had since the moment he’d met her. The problem was, he didn’t care anymore. Every time he went outside, his feet invariably took him to the stables. It took more willpower than he could maintain to keep from riding to Kirkenroch and claiming what was his.

  He was fairly certain they would drive each other mad within days. But he was also sure that between those moments would be unimaginable pleasure and happiness in each other’s arms. Laughter as they butted heads. Excitement, adventure, and utter contentment. They were nothing alike. They looked at the world differently, lived their lives differently. And none of that mattered.

  He loved her. He craved her. His life dulled to a meager pretense of an existence without her. And he was done fighting it.

  Malcolm downed a tumbler of ale and then turned to Philip. But before The Lion could say a word, Philip laid his sword on the table. “I love her.”

  Malcolm’s eyes widened, and he blinked once or twice before breaking out in a huge grin. “Aye. I’ve been trying to get ye to see that for weeks.”

  “I’ve always seen it. I just didn’t want to.”

  “And that’s changed now, has it?”

  “Aye.”

  “Why is that?”

  Philip took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Because I’m a poor, miserable bastard without her.”

  “Aye, ye are,” Malcolm said, clapping him on the back. “What are ye going to do about it?”

  Philip gave him a half smile. “I’m going to go and claim my wife. And if that doesna work, I’ll beg her to forgive me for being an idiot and pray she’s feeling impulsive today.”

  “What do ye mean, she’s gone?” Philip asked, his stomach dropping to his toes as Elizabet looked on with pity-filled eyes.

  “I mean, she’s gone. She’s returned home.”

  “But…she said she would stay. That she wished to remain here and help you with the babe.”

  He glanced at the tiny baby James—dubbed wee Jamie by his doting father—who slept peacefully in the cradle beside his mother’s chair. He’d been born a few short days after Ramsay’s attack and, while he was small, he seemed to be a bonnie, strong lad.

  “She said she’d stay for sure only until her bruises healed. But I don’t think she’d made any permanent plans after that. To be truthful, I think she was hoping you would come for her. When you didn’t…”

  John shot his wife a look Philip couldn’t read. Not that he put a great deal of effort into it. The sole thought in his head was the realization that he was too late. Alice was gone. He’d waited too long and lost her forever.

  “Well,” Elizabet continued. “I think she’d hoped to stay longer, but circumstances dictated otherwise.”

  “When did she leave?” he asked, his voice raw and gruff.

  “Yesterday. She received a letter from her sister that informed her that, due to all the fuss and gossip, her parents and Woolsmere did not wish to prolong the engagement. They were receiving a special license, though that
is proving somewhat difficult, as she will be Woolsmere’s fourth wife. Alice is determined to make sure no harm comes to Mary. In fact, I believe her ship sails from Inverness with the morning tide.”

  His heart jumped at that. “Her ship doesn’t leave until tomorrow? From Inverness?”

  Elizabet smiled and nodded. “As you know, Alice isn’t the best traveler. We thought it best if she left a day or so ahead of schedule so she’d have plenty of time to make the journey. A fast, more experienced rider would probably make it to the docks before the ship departed. If he left right now…”

  Philip grabbed Elizabet and hauled her to him for a quick hug and then sprinted out the door.

  John glanced at his wife, his eyebrow cocked. “You forgot to tell him she was most likely coming back once she was assured that Mary was safe from Woolsmere.”

  “Did I? How forgetful of me.”

  John chuckled and gave his wife the kiss she deserved.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alice stood at the railing of the ship, watching the dock workers scurry to and fro while they finished preparing the ship to sail. The cargo had already been loaded and the gangplank drawn in when a lone rider thundered across the docks. He jumped off the horse and ran to the edge of the dock.

  “Alice!”

  “Philip?” She gripped the railing and leaned over as far as she dared, her heart nearly hammering out of her chest. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Ye said ye werena leaving!”

  She shook her head. He came all the way after her to yell at her for leaving? “I have to go to Mary.”

  He threw up his hands and said something else, but his words were lost in the shouts of the sailors and the grinding and creaking of the ship as the anchor was cranked out of the water on its giant chain.

  He waved his arms, shouting up at her, then pacing back and forth on the dock before stopping to shout some more. It looked as if he was trying to stop them from leaving.

  Stop her from leaving.