Chapter Seventeen

The room reeked of pungent herbs and other medicinal concoctions that burned Daniel’s eyes and clouded his judgment. Why else would he imagine that he was losing his heart to a Jacobite? How was it possible? He almost laughed at himself. How quickly his defenses had fallen. How maddeningly complete was his defeat. Hell, he couldn’t even remain angry with her for not telling him about the group of Highlanders following them.

The rhythm of his friend’s hollow breath dragged his thoughts back where they belonged. He was responsible for his men. Hubert’s condition, whether or not Abigail MacGregor agreed with him, was his fault.

“Whoever is behind the attack dies, Hubert. You have my word.”

But she had agreed with him last night when he told her. He was thankful that she hadn’t seen his face behind her door. She agreed, understanding the responsibilities of being a leader.

She would make a fine chief. She was strong, confident, but not overbearing or brooding. A perfect queen of the Highlands. He’d like to serve her, and then…

“General.”

Daniel drove the thought of Abby from his head as he turned to watch Rob MacGregor enter the room with another man, equally as big, behind him. A wolfhound, whose enormous head reached the Highlander’s waist, looked at Daniel and licked its chops. “Easy, Ula.” The Highlander smirked. “He’s scrawny, but he’s no’ supper.”

“I thought I might find ye here,” the chief said, ignoring his friend and crossing the room to the bed. His companion moved about, examining tables and holding up various bottles to the light. “This is Will MacGregor, my cousin. Ye parried a few of his swings in Skye, but ye were no’ properly introduced.”

Daniel nodded, then scowled at the dog when she came to sit near him. He wished the men would both take a seat, as well. They were daunting to look up to.

“I hadna’ meant fer ye to discover us.” Abby’s father dragged a chair away from the hearth and set it by the bed. Will did not sit, but remained standing. “I’ll tell ye now. We’re no’ goin’ back. I love my daughter and there’s no way in hell I’m lettin’ her go to England, as hostile as ’tis to us, alone.”

“She isn’t alone,” Daniel reminded him, then ran his hand down his face. He’d promised her… “If the queen discovers ye, all hope for peace will end.”

“Then let’s no’ let the queen discover us, aye?”

Daniel nodded. What damn choice did he have?

“Any improvement in this one?”

“He remains as I found him.”

They were quiet for a moment, then the chief looked at him. “Ye dinna’ believe the attack was random?”

“It has been suggested to me that it was not.”

“Who suggested it?”

“MacPherson, the Jacobite,” Daniel told him with a distasteful sneer. “So you understand if I weigh other possibilities.”

MacGregor shrugged. “The only possibility that concerns me is the one of harm befalling my daughter. She has only one man protecting her now instead of four.”

Daniel wanted to tell him that one man was enough—if that man was him. But he kept quiet while Abby’s father spoke.

“I would like to bring her home and ferget aboot meetin’ the queen. But it willna’ be an easy task. My daughter is stubborn like me. Aye, Will?” he called over his shoulder to his cousin.

“She’s worse,” Will agreed, stepping close to the bed and appraising Hubert’s wrappings.

“She seems fond of ye,” her father continued. “Mayhap she might even listen to ye if ye agree when I tell her that ’tis safest fer her to return home.”

And just like that, Daniel would never see her again? “I can keep her safe,” he said before he could stop himself. He only wanted to stop himself after looking at Hubert and remembering that keeping people safe wasn’t always possible. That didn’t mean he wanted to send her away. He couldn’t, not without disobeying the queen. But there was more to it than that. He was a mad fool. He wanted to stay with Abigail MacGregor, by her side, in her bed. But he wasn’t the same man he used to be. He was a prince of Denmark. “I’m afraid I cannot agree to sending her back. I have my orders.”

Her father scowled, and Daniel recalled the sweet tales Abby had told him about the chief. Those images of the hulking Highlander playing with his wife and young children in the water, laughing at their antics and protecting them from the waves, sharply contrasted with the man Daniel had fought in Skye, the one who nearly took off Daniel’s head, and then his arm.

“Besides,” he continued, “your daughter is quite determined to meet the queen and do her part toward peace. I don’t think you will be able to convince her to give it all up.”

“Aye,” the Highland chief agreed. “A few days with her and ye already appreciate how stubborn she is.”

Daniel wondered what spending many more days with her would be like. What would he do with the knowledge of what makes her happy or anxious? How would it make him feel to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake to her dreamy gaze?

“May I ask why you think my opinion will matter to her?”

“Because,” MacGregor told him, “ye’re a knight… and one, it would appear, who keeps his word. And because I know my daughter. Yer word will carry much weight. Once she’s away from ye she’ll ferget ye, fear not. She’ll remember who ye are and what ye’ve done to our people and she’ll come back to her senses.”

There it was, in no uncertain terms. Abby’s father didn’t want them together, and rightly so. They didn’t belong together. But knowing it didn’t make losing his wits any easier.

Damnation, he had most definitely gone mad.

“Your daughter isn’t smitten,” Daniel assured him, clinging to his logic. “There is nothing between us.”

“Good—”

“And even if there were,” Daniel forged on ahead, not knowing why the hell he opened his mouth or why he couldn’t shut it, “we are not foolish children led from our duty toward desire.”

“That’s comfortin’ to know.” The chief stood to his feet and put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder before he left. “ ’Tis no’ that I dinna’ find ye likable, Marlow, but ye are a general in the queen’s army. If that wasna’ bad enough, ye’re English. But worst of all, ye’re Protestant. Ye’d have to be familiar with my wife to understand why she would never approve of ye.”

“No need to explain,” Daniel told him, then listened while the two Highlanders and their dog left the room.

Why was his heart so heavy within him? Why did he care about what some outlawed Jacobites thought of him? He hated what was happening to him. He hated that, so far, he was helpless against it. It would only get worse the longer she stayed with him. It was best that the choice was out of his hands. Perhaps he should go along with sending her back to Skye. He’d figure out something to tell Anne. She’d be angry with him at first, but he’d help her understand. Abigail wasn’t the only Jacobite handmaiden the queen could use for peace.

He looked up when Nora entered the room and went to a table without a word.

Nora.

Wasn’t she more valuable to the queen than MacGregor’s daughter? Hell, how much of a threat was Abby’s family to the throne anyway? They rarely left Skye, keeping to themselves and their own laws.

Cameron MacPherson was a much bigger danger to the throne. Why couldn’t he escort Nora to England instead of Abby? Surely Anne would agree that she could get more from Nora MacPherson than from the daughter of an outlawed chief who rarely left his clan. By doing this, by agreeing to MacGregor’s plan, he’d be saving their arses too by keeping them out of England.

He watched Nora move about the room preparing more herbs and the next round of dressing changes Hubert needed.

Daniel owed the MacPhersons much.

Damn it.

“Ye’ll have to leave when Alfred returns,” Nora advised him as she swept past him and moved around to the other side of the room. “He doesna’ like folks in his way.”

“I’ll go,” Daniel assured her, looking her way and catching a glimpse of her shadowy eyes and faint smile on him.

Besides the obvious difference in likeness, Nora was nothing like Abby. This one had secrets kept carefully hidden behind her nimbus veil. Whatever they were, they were her future husband’s worry. He preferred Abby’s open, honest elegance to childish games of cat and mouse.

“Ye dinna’ have to go just yet,” she told him with a pink blush spreading across her cheeks.

So, she didn’t hate him after all—or was it just part of her game? He wouldn’t want to travel the rest of the way to England with her.

“I’ve heard of ye.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What have you heard?”

She stepped around the bed and almost into Daniel’s lap. “Ye’re the queen’s favorite. The apple of her eye.”

And now he knew why.

Daniel remained quiet while Nora knelt between his knees and continued revealing facts he didn’t like hearing coming from her lips. Why did she know so much about him?

“In fact, ye have the hearts of two of the kingdom’s most powerful women. The queen and the Duchess of Blackburn.” She looked toward the door and then back at him. “And countless others, I’m sure.”

“Anything else?”

She smiled and nodded. “Ye dance verra well.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. He did dance damn well. He moved quickly too, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. “How does the lady of a rebel Jacobite keep know these things?”

“She has ears to listen. If she’s wise, she hears much.”

They spoke of him here, then. It was telling to be considered at the table of an enemy. It meant you were deemed worthy to warrant concern and observation. Why did Cameron MacPherson, infamous Jacobite warrior, not kill him the first chance he had, or the hundred that followed? Why had his sister Nora change her mind about him? She’d hated him passionately just yesterday.

“What are your ambitions, Miss MacPherson?”

“I have many.”

He was sure she did. That’s what convinced him that his plan was foolish. Besides his disobeying his queen, which he’d never done before and wouldn’t begin doing now, he didn’t want Nora anywhere near Anne. It would be like putting another Charlotte in Anne’s life.

Her smile deepened and Daniel thought she truly was lovely. “I’d love to meet the queen.”

He quirked his brow at her, wondering if she’d been reading his thoughts all this time.

“Why is that, my lady?” he asked, knowing full well why Nora MacPherson, sister of the Jacobite hero, would want to meet the queen. “What would you do if you met her?”

“I heard she is kind and benevolent. I would thank her for not being like her sister, before her.”

Daniel almost believed her. He smiled and was about to tell her that he hoped he never saw her in England when she bowed her head and swiped her nose with a kerchief she pulled from her sleeve.

“Ye’re verra’ kind to offer to bring me, General Marlow. I know escorting two women to court will be a challenge. Mayhap ye could return here fer Miss Campbell at a later date.”

“Mayhap the general had better do his duty.”

Daniel’s heart paused at the sound of Abby’s voice. She sounded angry, and a bit betrayed. He didn’t want to turn around, but he was no coward.

She stood at the entrance of the room. Her velvety cheeks burned with a healthy glow—or leashed rage. Either way, all at once it became difficult to breathe. He had the urge to bow in reverence. Her pale tresses were plaited into a long, loose braid that hung over her breast. Gone was her Scottish earasaid, replaced by gown of soft indigo wool. The fit was slightly snug, accentuating her alluring, feminine curves. As he took in the sight of her, he forgot everything else, every threat, every alarm, his name… to inhale.

“Would ye grant us a moment to speak privately, Miss MacPherson?”

She wanted to speak to him. He wasn’t sure if he was up to it. It was difficult enough looking at her. Every time he did, he saw a queen. He was mad, he knew. For she was the daughter of an outlawed, Jacobite Highlander—the furthest thing from royalty. And still, he ached for a few moments alone with her.

He turned to Nora and waited for her reply.

“I need to stay,” she told Abby, “to assist the doc.”

Daniel didn’t wait but stepped around Abby, to the door, and held his arm out before him. “Then you’ll excuse Miss Campbell and me.” He only had to wait an instant before Abby turned on her heel and left the room.

“Why are ye so eager to be rid of me, General?” she demanded when he shut the door behind him.

He didn’t answer, but continued leading her away from the door and onward, down the corridor.

“Ye gave yer word to escort me to the queen,” she said, stopping to face him when they reached the stairs. “Would ye disobey her now? Fer Nora?”

“No, I have no intention of bringing her anywhere,” he told her. “Did you hear me promise her anything?”

“No,” she admitted. He smiled, but a moment later she looked up at him. “But I believe ye would do anything to be oot of my presence.”

His gaze on her intensified, but instead of taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless like he wanted, he took her hand in his.

“I’m not sure if being out of your presence is better than this, but I know my duty and I will do it.” He would work things out with Anne when Abby returned home. He prayed Anne had good reasons for keeping him from his true father. “I will take you to England, Abigail,” he continued. “Perhaps I’ll even learn what you’re hiding behind your ice-tipped gaze.”

She looked away. “Ye’re better off not knowing.”

Was he? Is that what Anne believed and why she’d never told him the truth?

He followed Abby into the shadowy stairwell and took her wrist, stopping her from going any farther without him.

“I don’t like secrets that involve the queen, or worse, me,” he warned her. “If there are things I should know, you need to tell me.”

Her breath sounded short, tight, but her voice remained soft. “What secrets could I be keeping? If ye mean my faither and the others following us, I thought…”

Hell, when had she gotten so close and why did he let her distract him? He was glad he couldn’t see her clearly while she spoke. But after a moment of listening to her breathing, intoxicated by her scent, he realized feeling her was far more dangerous. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t recall what they’d been talking about.

“I want to keep you safe,” he said before he could stop himself.

“From who, Daniel?”

How was resisting her in the dark any easier than in the light? It wasn’t. Somehow though, he found the strength to step away from her.

“From me, my lady.”

He moved out of the shadows and bumped into Nora on the other side.

“General,” she said, taking the hand that Abby had just been holding. “Yer friend is dead.”