“Ye arrogant bastard. Do ye think I want this life?” Flora threw the piece of barley bread she was about to eat on the plate and pushed it away. She’d accepted enough jabs from him and wouldn’t take anything more—well, except for decent clothes so she could walk out of here with some dignity.
She thought to shrug his jacket off too, but she’d felt her dress slip even farther, and he didn’t deserve a view of her skin. Aye, she’d seen the way he looked at her. Just like every man. She’d led him to think there was a chance, but she’d lain with a man once and found it quite unpleasant. She had no desire to try it again, even though her heart beat faster when he was near. Ruffles thought of her as nothing more than a nuisance, like the mud on the bottom of his boots.
“Eat,” he insisted as his eyes turned thoughtful. Their sapphire depths revealed pity, as if she were the stray dog on the corner begging for its next meal. And she found herself wanting to pull the warm folds of his coat over her head and hide.
She’d rather have his disdain than his sympathy.
She opted for walking to the still open window. A breeze blew into the room, and she let it carry her to another place as if she were free in the wind and hadn’t a care in the world. She hated what she’d done to this man, but there was no other way. She leaned her head against the frame and closed her eyes, wishing her dreams could take her away, but too many things and people depended on her.
A light touch on her shoulder pulled her back, and she shivered.
“If you are in some sort of trouble, I can help you.”
If only that were possible. She’d lay her life in the hands of this stranger if he could save and protect her family, but she knew she was the only one Bran could trust. And if the Edinburgh crime lord came to collect on her debt, it would be impossible for Will to save their home with both her and Bran gone. All the kids would be tossed into the streets to fend for themselves. That was what had happened to her. She wouldn’t let it happen to them.
Turning to face Ruffles, she attempted to hide the sadness that must be in her eyes. At least when she was gone, he’d know she hated what she had to do to him. His hand was now resting on her hip, and she found herself wanting to move closer, like a sheep wandering into a field of lush clover at the end of the cold season. But they were both going to be disappointed with the bitter taste, so she placed her hand on his, then gently removed it from her hip and walked back to the table to put distance between them.
Sitting, she pulled her plate closer, then took a bite of the cold mutton. She could tell the quality was better than anything she’d had before, but she didn’t taste it. She swallowed another sip of tea, then glanced up at the man who had again sat across from her.
“Who’s in the locket?” She pushed away the pain she had been momentarily foolish enough to show someone.
Taking the necklace off, he opened the oval shape to reveal a picture of two young boys.
“Ye have children?” Odd, he didn’t look old enough to have two nearly grown lads.
“No, it’s my father and my uncle. My grandmother gave it to me when my father passed away.”
“I’m so sorry. Did you get to ken him?”
“Yes, it happened when I was about thirteen summers.”
“’Tis a blessing you had him for the time ye did.” An image of the last time she’d seen her father flashed before her eyes—her little hands being pulled from his in the crowded street.
Sadness filled his eyes, and that guilt she felt returned. She reminded herself that she should not feel sympathy for him.
“What of yer mother?”
“She is alive and well and scheming every day as to how she can make me a better man. Do you have a family?”
She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her lips. “As close of one as I can have without blood.” But that was all she’d say, and although this man seemed to have a kind heart, she didn’t know what he’d do to get his belongings back. And until Ruffles was gone, it was up to her to keep them safe.
She fingered a piece of the mutton and took a bite of it. The shaky feeling in her limbs was beginning to dissipate.
His head jerked back, and he looked puzzled.
“What?”
“You have a fork and knife.”
The word knife reverberated in her head, and she glanced down at the weapon that had been placed so casually in front of her. “So I do.” She giggled; why would he let her know? She swallowed and took another bite.
“Are you going to use them?”
She glanced back up to see him almost laughing.
“On the meat? But on second thought, maybe they are not a good idea.” His hand stretched across the distance to land on top of the utensil and slide it to his side of the table.
Blushing, she realized his original intention. She must appear to be a barbarian to a man like him. She couldn’t stab him now. She liked him, despite his station; he’d wanted to help her. Bringing the teacup up yet again, she hid her face behind it.
Surprising her then, he laughed, putting his elbow on the table. He rested his head on it and eyed her with mirth and interest instead of revulsion.
“Do ye come to Aberdeen often?” Suddenly the thought of never seeing him again cast a cloud over the moment, even as she chided herself. He’d want to see her in prison once she snuck away today.
“No, but it could become a habit. So far, I like what I see of the Highlands.” His eyes pinned her, and something in her chest burst, and although she knew there could never be anything between them, stupid hope blossomed, and she cursed herself for letting it do so.
She wet her lips. For the first time, she wanted to kiss a man, not to know what it felt like to kiss but to understand why she had this urge to taste him. Yes, she’d been kissed before, but this, she wanted with a strange crushing urgency that made her chest flutter and her limbs weak.
Seeming to read her thoughts, he reached across the table, his finger tracing her lips as his gaze remained focused on hers. As she inhaled, she thought she might be having a panic attack because every inch of her body had gone rigid, but at the same time pliant and yielding.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
Surely, he’d kissed someone before.
His eyes sparkled with amusement and his mouth curved up when he noticed her confusion. Damn, she hated that she wore her thoughts so plain on her face.
“Where you cut it. Your lip?”
Och, she was a fool. She was astonished to figure out she’d leaned toward him. Sitting up straight now, she attempted to collect her thoughts and shake the temporary loss of her senses.
“Aye, ’tis all right. I had forgotten about it.”
“Good, because I want to kiss you.”
What?
He continued, “Will you let me?”
He stood, his chair rocked and nearly tipped over. But before she could process his movements, he’d taken her hands and pulled her to standing. One of his arms slid under the jacket and around to her back, as the other hand reached up to her cheek, then trailed into her hair, leaving tingles in its wake. Her mouth fell open, waiting, as his eyes dilated and pierced her with something she didn’t recognize. Then his hand fisted in her hair and angled her head towards his.
His other hand rose, and a fingertip rested on her bottom lip, just below where she’d split it open. Her breath quickened as his gaze dropped to study the spot where he touched her. Time stopped.
“When our business is finished, if you wish, I’ll show you everything.”
Chills spread down her spine as unfamiliar anticipation snatched her and held her in its palm, wanting to know what he was talking about but also wary at the same time.
Her heart hammered, so heavy that she felt the room vibrate as his finger traced her sensitive skin. It wasn’t enough. She suddenly wanted to know what he tasted like too, but he started to retreat. She found her hand reaching out to stop him, landing on his forearm as her gaze traveled to his and met pools of blue, drawing her in more than the bonny skies over the water on a sunny day. His eyes promised a fulfilment she’d never experienced, and he seemed pleased with her response.
“Nae,” she said before she could stop herself.
“I realize you have no choice in being here. I want to know when I take you that it is because you truly want me, not because I’m holding you against your will.”
Then she heard the pounding again, followed by, “My lord.”
His valet.
Oh God, she’d lost herself, and his lips hadn’t even brushed hers. But she’d wanted to feel his mouth on hers. She’d been on the verge of begging him to kiss her. What the devil was wrong with her? She had a family to take care of and couldn’t do this. She broke the eye contact and pushed away, retreating to the window.
There was movement behind her, but she didn’t dare take her eyes from the street until she calmed her racing heart. Smoothing her hair and then what she could of the tatters left of her dress, she turned. When she did, it was to see Fredrick rushing in with two large boxes, and fabric draped over his shoulder.
“That was fast,” Ruffles said.
She almost thought he sounded angry at his valet for being prompt. Dragging her feet toward the bed, she glanced down at what Fredrick had returned with. The bed was full of items she’d never be able to afford, or even think about: two new gowns, stockings, slippers, ribbons, and gloves.
“’Tis too much.” Looking up at the men, she shook her head. But they watched at her as if she’d gone insane, and Fredrick drew in on himself as if she’d punched him in the gut.
She barely saw Ruffles catch Fredrick’s attention and tilt his head toward the door. Her eyes threatened to water as she inspected the items spread out before her. The door clicked behind the English valet.
She had to remember this was not part of her world and never would be.
“Pick what you want, but remember we have to go out in public. You cannot wear what you have on.”
She nodded but hesitated as she opened her eyes again to scrutinize the bounty spread before her. Reaching out, she touched the more casual of the two dresses and was struck by the quality of the workmanship on the white dress, which had red roses embroidered. The material was several times more impressive than the tatters of the gown she still wore, the one that until yesterday had been her prized possession.
As her hand skimmed across the costly material, Isaac’s came to rest on hers. “Just put one on. We need to get going. I want my box, and then we can come back and discuss what I can and cannot give you.”
“Isaac.”
His name rolled from her lips, and Isaac savored the sound of it. Flora called out to him shortly after he’d turned to face the wall and dream about the woman undressing behind him. It surprised him because every lady he knew took what felt like hours to dress. Wondering by the tentative tone if maybe she wanted something else, he didn’t immediately pivot to face her.
“Yes?”
“Will ye help, please. I cannae fasten the buttons.” Her barely audible plea indicated she hadn’t wanted to ask it of him, and that she had brought a small smile to his face.
He regretted not kissing her before, but she wasn’t here of her own free will, and he would not force himself upon her . . . but if she asked him to, he would have kissed her. He thought she had been about to, and he would have obliged, but Fredrick’s timing had saved them from making a mistake.
Turning, he was struck by how truly lovely she was. Her long, chestnut curls bordered a heart-shaped face with the faintest coloring of rose. She was a good head shorter than him and, if anything, looked as if she could handle adding more substance to her tiny frame. It was no wonder she was so good at stealing from a man’s pocket—she’d probably stolen as many hearts as she had coins. The only thing marring her beauty were the calluses he’d earlier noticed on her hands, showing the hard life she led.
He closed the distance between them, unable to take his gaze from her innocently seductive brown eyes. She blinked, shuddering under his scrutiny.
“Turn around.” His voice threatened to crack.
She obeyed without her typical defiance. He gathered her hair, and he resisted the urge to run his fingers up into her scalp. Instead, he draped the strands over one shoulder so he could get to the fastenings. The slope of her neck called to his lips as she dipped her head to give him better access. He groaned, then clasped the top of the gown and started pulling the seams together to secure the material in place.
“You chose not to wear the chemise.” His throat closed, and he was aware he sounded as if the air had been knocked from his lungs because that was what it felt like. How was he to look at her today with the knowledge of how easy it would be to get to her bare skin?
After slipping the last button in place, he let his hands slide down her curves to rest on her waist, pulling her flush to his body as it ached to undo the work and bury himself inside her. Dipping his head, he kissed the tender skin at the base of her neck. She arched into him, and every nerve in his body wanted to scream out “Hallelujah.”
“Nae,” the word was so weak he barely heard it, then again, more forceful, “Nae.” She pulled free from his hand, and the cold air rushed over him.
Keeping her gaze on the window or the door or anywhere but him, she refused to meet his gaze. “’Tis time to go.” She walked toward the door.
“You need slippers.” He picked up the stockings Fredrick had purchased and held them up.
She shook her head.
“At least put the slippers on. I don’t wish for you to hurt your feet.”
She nodded in concession but didn’t look pleased as she walked back.
“Do you find something wrong with what Fredrick secured?” Why was she so troubled by the items?
“Aye, this gown probably cost more than it would to feed my entire family for a month. I cannot repay this.” What kind of thief wouldn’t take charity?
“I owe you for the one I damaged.”
“Nae, ’tis my own fault.”
“How is it you can steal from me but not accept a gift?”
She shook her head and started toward the door again, but he grabbed her hand.
“Slippers. Why is it you didn’t have any on yesterday?” He urged her down onto the bed to put on the shoes.
“’Twas warm enough yesterday that I didnae need them.”
“Are you not worried you will hurt your feet?”
“Nae, they last longer if I only wear them when needed.”
Anger invaded the calm exterior he showed her, so he tempered the next words. “Does this William not see to your needs?”
“Nae, dinnae think that. He has a lot of us to take care of. I’m responsible, so I take care of those that need it the most.”
“And what of you?” He was beginning to see why the local police were willing to look past her offenses, despite her crimes.
She didn’t answer him as she fastened the shoes to her dainty feet. Turning, he walked to the door and kept his back to Flora so she couldn’t see the anger in his eyes.
Before he knew it, he felt her behind him. “I’m ready.”
He nodded and pulled the key from his neck and unlocked the door.
They set out into the street and had walked half a block. He’d already seen at least four sets of eyes on her, but she seemed oblivious as she let her curls fall free to her waist, the wind gently blowing the strands like flowers dancing in the breeze.
She pulled him to a stop outside a bakery. “I’ll be just a moment,” and she looked over her shoulder as she thought to go in without him.
He’d given her no coin, so if she wanted something, she would need him. He followed her inside without her notice.
The girl behind the counter ran around and threw her arms around Flora. “Where’d ye find that gown? ’Tis lovely.”
“Never mind that. I’ll tell ye later.”
His face tightened as he realized Flora’s plan could have been to sneak out of the building another way and leave him standing in the street. She’d have been long gone before he’d realized what she’d done.
Forgetting who she was would be a mistake. As he vowed not to let her out of his sight, the conversation reached his ears.
“Will’s mad with worry. He’s never lost control like that before. He had us all out looking for you last night.”
“I am all right. I couldnae get word to ye where I was.” She didn’t turn around and apparently wasn’t even aware he’d followed her in.
“Nae, ye dinnae understand. Alastair showed up yesterday with a crew of men.”
He came around to her side, and he noticed the color drain from Flora’s face.
Ignoring him, the girl continued, “He said he came to collect yer debt. He wants to take ye away.”
Flora went rigid, and her arms fell from the girl. What kind of trouble was his thief in? Anxiety swam in his gut as he continued to follow the ladies’ words.
“They were shouting, and I ran to hide because I thought Will and Alastair were going to kill each other.”
“Peggy, I need to sit.” Flora tilted and appeared as if she’d fall over.
Taking her arm before she toppled over, he attempted to steady her, but she flinched as her face whipped around to his. Closing her eyes briefly, when she opened them, they were glossy, and he guided her to a chair by the wall. Isaac head pounded with unease.
The young girl looked at him for the first time, then dismissed him just as quickly and continued, “Ye cannae come home. Some of Alastair’s men are waiting outside.”
Flora’s hands shook, and her stare was blank as she watched the opposite wall. Her reaction to the lass’s news was starting to unnerve him. Flora had faced him down without an ounce of this boneless fear that drifted from her.
“Do ye understand, Flora? There’s at least eight of ‘em.”
She nodded, and her trembling hands came up to cover her face as she rocked back and forth. “He won’t hurt Will to get to me, will he?”
Isaac’s hands clenched and he wondered again who Will was to Flora.
“Nae, he said they just want ye.”
Flora’s head bobbed slightly, and she took a deep breath before her resolve thickened, and she sat up straight. “Did Alastair say what he’d do?”
“Will offered to pay him, but he insisted it was yer debt. Flora, ye have to hide. I don’t want him to take ye away, and I dinnae ken what Will might do if he tries.” Tears streamed down Peggy’s cheeks.
“Ssh. ’Twill be all right.” The confident Flora returned, and his thief pulled the girl into her arms and whispered something in Peggy’s ear. Flora’s head bobbed as he craned his neck, moving in closer to catch the words, but all he could make out was, “tell Will safe” and “I’ll go.”
The girl bolted up, angry, “Nae, ye cannae. I won’t let ye. Will won’t let ye.”
Flora got to her feet and stood tall, pushing away whatever troubled the girl. “Fenella is outside. Do ye have anything to spare?”
“Ye can’t.”
Flora shook her head and ignored Peggy’s plea. “Do you have something I can give Fenella?” Her voice no longer shook. It was as if she’d made a decision and come to peace with it.
“Wait.” The girl turned and ran into a back room.
Flora didn’t look at him. She covered her face with her palms and shook her head back and forth before standing straight so she’d look composed when the girl returned.
Peggy ran back into the small space with two loaves of bread that had a dark appearance and seemed slightly overcooked.
“Thank ye.” Flora hugged the girl.
“Ye cannae go with him. What if he doesnae let ye come back?”
“Hush, ’twill be all right. Tell Will no’ to come looking for me. ’Tis safer if ye all dinnae ken where I am.” Flora turned her back to the girl, opened the door, and stepped out into the pleasant summer morning.
Before he could follow, Peggy grabbed his arm. “Dinnae let Alastair take her. He’s no’ as nice as Will. She won’t do well there.”
Chills ran down his spine. He nodded at Peggy, but he wasn’t quite sure what he’d agreed to.
What kind of trouble had his little thief gotten into? Now the visit from Nigel this morning made a little more sense. They weren’t afraid he had her; they were afraid this Alastair character had gotten his hands on Flora.
For a moment, he’d lost Flora, and he froze as his eyes darted down the sidewalk. His breath returned when he caught sight of her crossing the street toward an old lady sitting under the window of the vacant shop across the other side.
Striding toward her, he was by her side in a blink. He had to lean in to hear the conversation.
“Eat, Fenella. Ye have to take care of yerself. I may no’ be here to bring ye bread much longer.”
“Did ye get a new dress, lass?” A toothless grin, and tired eyes, brightened when they landed on Flora.
“Aye, I did.”
“’Tis ’bout time. I always thought ’twould be better off if ye bought yerself something instead of this.” The woman pulled at the sleeve of her jacket, then looked over Flora’s shoulder at him. The little thief turned around and gave him a sad, thin smile as if she’d forgotten he was there, then turned back to the ailing lady.
“Nae, Fenella, I have everything I need. And this looks good on ye,” she whispered, probably hoping he wouldn’t overhear, but the woman just closed her eyes and shook her head.
The last few minutes had been a whirlwind tour of Flora’s personal life, a part she’d not been eager to share with him.
Patting the old lady’s arm, Flora stood and motioned for him to follow her but kept her gaze averted. Not caring about propriety—he was in Scotland, after all—he casually took her arm, and he strolled down the street with her. She didn’t protest.
This time instead of walking toward the outside of town, she headed deeper, down toward the water where he’d found her the night before. He didn’t speak, waiting for her to do so.
She led him to a bench overlooking the water and sat. “I just need a few minutes.”
Easing down beside her, he turned his legs in so that they were touching hers. She didn’t move. Her hands clasped together in her lap. She tried to hide it, but they trembled. Reaching out, he put one hand over hers, and she started, then met his regard. One tear trail down her cheek.
He wanted to comfort her, wanted to help. But he couldn’t do it until he knew she would return his important documents. “Take me to the box, and I’ll help you in whatever way I can.”
“I couldnae, even if I wanted to right now.”
“Yes, you will.” He pulled her up and marched her, well more like drug her, back toward town. He was surprised at how little resistance she put up until he realized he could drag her anywhere, but he didn’t know in which direction to go without her guidance.
Frustration invaded every part of him as he studied the streets, gray buildings lining each side, and the endless maze of a city he knew nothing about. “I’ll protect you.”
They were back on the thoroughfare just steps away from the inn. As he turned to glower at her and demand her obedience, she put a gentle hand on his arm and shook her head.
“’Tis no’ safe.” Her gaze darted to the side before he could reply.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman approach. There was something familiar about the style of gray hair and the way she moved. He blinked. It was the hostess of the house party he was scheduled to attend on his way home. It had been fortuitous that his mother’s friend happened to be in Scotland at the same time as him and had asked him to make an appearance. One of his friends was also scheduled to be present, so he’d been looking forward to the event.
But seeing her right now, with his thief in tow, felt like anything but fortune.
Lady Stonehaven smiled as she advanced and paused before them. “Lord Dunbridge, how nice to see you ahead of schedule.”
“Lady Stonehaven, it’s a pleasure.”
His mother’s longtime friend turned to Flora with a quizzical glare. “Well, introduce us, boy.”
“Pardon me. This is Flora . . .” Oh hell, what was he going to say? Flora the thief? He couldn’t do that to her.
“I’m Flora MacGregor. ’Tis a pleasure to meet ye.”
“How curious.” Her lips quirked sideways as her stare took in Flora from her head to toes.
Isaac was thankful that of all his mother’s friends, Lady Stonehaven was near at hand. She’d once been a singer, and was the daughter of a merchant. He had no doubt that the woman would be intrigued by Flora instead of put off.
A drop splattered on his forehead, then another. A soft breeze had moved in, and the clouds were darkening.
“Oh, I must get my shopping done and get back to the inn.” The woman looked up at the clouds as if the impending weather had gravely disappointed her. “I have a splendid idea. You should join our gathering. I’d love to become more acquainted with you, Miss MacGregor. Have to let this one’s mother know what he’s been up to.”
He cringed.
“I’d be pleased to join ye,” Flora said.
His face fell, shock at Flora’s quick reply. Another drop hit his cheek.
“Well, then, we shall make arrangements for you to join us. Nate, are you at the Aberdeen Imperial Inn?”
The sky opened up, and all he could do was nod.
“Oh dear, this rain. I’ll send word. It was lovely to meet you, Miss MacGregor.” And she was running for her coach before his thief could voice a reply.
Turning on her, he let the anger he’d held in check loose. “Have you lost your mind?”
Sticking her chin up in the air as large raindrops pounded on her cheeks, Flora said, “I need a safe place to go.”
Safe! She had no idea.
Flora shivered, and he considered shaking some sense into her and refusing to let her go until the rain dripping down her neck caught his attention, and his gaze dropped to the front of her gown where it stayed. Dark, tight, engorged nipples poked from beneath the dampening thin white material. Hell, he couldn’t take her anywhere looking like that. Closing his eyes, he shook the image from his head and then grabbed her arm and headed toward the inn.
She followed without complaint as he led the way back to his rented room. They’d gotten nowhere, and how was he going to convince her to give his box back? Her lip would heal in another day or two, and he could take her to the authorities, but how would he now explain her presence after the man had come looking for her?
He cursed her deceit. She’d probably planned this, intentionally not taking him to retrieve his possessions, and when her scheme hadn’t worked, even the weather had cooperated with her. The vixen had a propensity for making everyone fall into her perfect little hands. Even Lady Stonehaven—and although he knew she was the daughter of a merchant who had clawed her way into society and appreciated people of different backgrounds, her guests were going to chew Flora up and spit her out. The charming innocence she had would be gone.
He couldn’t let that happen.
He didn’t have many weaknesses, but she was a vice that was quickly wrapping herself around his heart and claiming some part of him he didn’t think existed.
Inserting the key, he let his gaze drift to her brown eyes, but then his regard fell to her full red lips because they were parted as if wishing for a man’s attention. Why did she have to be so appealing? Damn, if he didn’t want to kiss her.
Closing the door behind them, he turned, and before he knew what he was doing, he took both her hands and backed her to the wall, pinning her arms just above her head. Slick hair tumbled down her shoulders, and her cheeks had reddened. Shallow breaths made Flora’s chest heave in and out, and his gaze was drawn to the rosy peaks that begged for his attention. He was losing his mind.
Expecting his little thief to yell at him or protest so that he would know this was wrong, he was laid low when his gaze met her chocolate stare, and it seemed to plead for his touch. Sucking in a deep breath, every muscle in his body tensed and screamed out for him to take her to his bed and forget the world outside.
Flora’s tongue darted out, and she bit down on her lower lip. She wasn’t even aware she’d done it. Did the woman truly not know what she did to men? What she did to him? He dipped his head down, closing the distance. His lips met hers, and he just barely remembered to be gentle with her cut. The caress was like music, like the beginning of a symphony written in major scale just for him, and he tilted to deepen the embrace just as he felt her raise onto her toes to do the same. Their tongues melded together in a pitch-perfect harmony that sang to his soul and branded it with this song he’d never forget.
It wasn’t enough. Letting go of one hand, he coiled his fingers around her waist and pulled her flush to his body, up off the floor, and pushed her farther into the wall where he could hold her as their tongues continued to dance to the music in his head. A chorus rang out, and he lost himself in her and the moment.
As the crescendo reached into his soul, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to hear the rest of the music. Their song would be over too soon, but he’d play it over and over again until the cords were etched in his memory, burned there for all time.
When he pulled back, Flora’s eyes were still closed and her mouth open. Her lids fluttered open. He saw a trust there he’d not expected to receive from her, a yearning for more, and it rendered him speechless as he gently released her body and let her slide down his length until her feet touched the floor.
She didn’t rush him or urge him further, only wanted what he offered. She was complicated and streetwise, but somehow charmingly innocent and at the same time experienced in so many things that the girls he’d known would never have knowledge of.
He wanted to understand her better. He hadn’t even bedded her, but he was certain he wanted her to come back to England with him. Would she be his mistress? He would support her whole family, whoever they were if she agreed to it. There were so many unanswered questions. Who were William and Alastair, and did they want her as he did? He’d never thought to fight a man over a woman, but he would almost sell his soul for a taste of her, and he knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Taking a step back but not releasing her from his arms, he tried to clear his head before he did something he would regret—like lose himself in a Highland lass that wasn’t part of his world and never could be.
And if he took her to that house party, what would they say about her unrefined ways? Worse yet, what would they turn her into? His little thief didn’t know what a house party entailed—all the dresses, the small talk, the games the ton played. She had refused most of the garments Fredrick had purchased for her, and that was a pittance of what she’d need for a weekend with the likes of Lady Stonehaven.
Why did the Stonehavens have to be in Scotland at the same time he was? But he knew the answer to that. After the Scottish wars of independence, their family had been awarded a title and land. They occasionally had to make an appearance to check on their property and tenants. He had timed this trip, knowing they would be here near the place to reclaim his family’s fortune.
He needed to get his box. He had to have those deeds. If Flora gave it to him now, they could leave, and he could save her the embarrassment. He could take her away, and she wouldn’t have the troubles that were haunting her now.
Backing up but keeping a hand on her waist, he let the hand still holding both of hers slip free to push the wet strand of hair that hugged her cheek. “Just take me to my belongings, and I can help you.”
“Nae, I cannae.” Her arms fell to her sides, but then one hand rose and rested on his hip.
The touch was so gentle and trusting that he considered stealing another kiss. Instead, he retreated to put space between them. “I’ll protect you from whatever has you scared. Is it this Alastair?”
“Nae, I just need until next week.” She shook her head and moved farther into the room, aiming for the window she seemed to enjoy.
“That will not do. Stay here. Tell me where it is, I’ll go get it, and I’ll protect you from that fellow.”
“I’ll return it Monday night.” The words carried to him over her shoulder.
“I need it now.” Fighting the anger which seemed to be on a rapid race to compete with his need to touch her, he struggled to keep a calm voice.
She twisted toward him. “Please allow me that time. It’s all I need.”
“Why?” His nails dug into his palms.
“I have to do something, but I promise I will stay by yer side ’til then. Ye willnae have to worry about me running. I’ll stay with ye of my own free will.”
“No.” He couldn’t let her manipulate him again.
“Then I will be forced to tell Nigel that ye abused me and kept me locked away.” Flora’s chin jutted up, giving him a full view of her still injured lip.
Outrage spiked in his veins, then resignation sunk into his belly. He’d lied to the watchman about seeing her, and now several witnesses could place them together. The lass at the bakery might even try to back the ridiculous claim.
“Ye seem like a decent person. I dinnae want to do that to ye, but I will if ye force my hand.” Her eyes implored him.
He wanted to scream with frustration and rage, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t help. “Wait, is it in a safe location. No one can get to it?”
“’Tis well-hidden and safe. No one else kens where I put it.”
“I don’t like this. You can trust me.”
“Please, trust me,” she pleaded.
He didn’t see that he had any other choice. “Do you promise you will return it?” He wondered if she was capable of telling the truth?
As she paused, her gaze fluttered from side to side before she looked directly into his eyes and assured, “Aye.”
“All right. You have until Monday.” But the arrangement didn’t sit right in his gut, as if he’d been forced to eat a rotten apple.
“You will not leave my side. I’ll make sure of it.” Maybe the house party was a good idea; after all, she’d be trapped in the countryside with nowhere to run. And he would have witnesses that she was with him willingly. Taking her to the party could prevent him from being sent to a Scottish prison.
Her attention turned to his hand. She was looking at the ring he wore as sadness lit in her eyes. It was plain on her face that it held a sentimental value that could sway her. “Once you have returned my things, you may have it back.”
She smiled then, and for a moment, he dared to think he could trust her.
“You will have to go shopping and learn the proper way to use a fork and knife.”
Shrugging, Flora smiled at him. “It cannae be that hard.”
Shaking his head, he looked at his little thief. “They are going to eat you alive.”