Leaning against the wall, Flora’s hand rose as her fingers traced her sensitive lips; they still tingled from a simple kiss. Och, there was nothing ordinary about it because her knees continued to tremble, and those still thrumming sensations coursed through her body, lingering and making her wish for more.
The times she’d been kissed before seemed clumsy in comparison to Ruffles’s embrace. And now, she knew that brutish oaf, John, had done it all wrong. Isaac’s kiss had been an embrace that had suspended time and washed away her worries, faster than the waves by the docks that she watched as she dreamt of another life.
Luckily, he’d left, locking her back in, before she’d asked him to kiss her again and drive the worries away.
She’d lied to him, but it was her only option. No, that wasn’t true—she could still sell her soul, and now she had two bidders. It appeared there would be no way to outrun Alastair, and if she didn’t go with him, he might take someone else from her family in her stead. She couldn’t allow it. As for Drostan, she’d pay him because the other alternative was too horrid to contemplate.
Isaac had told her the silly house party would be difficult, and she would wish she’d said no, but he was wrong. She could handle their rude comments and mistrust, and it was the perfect opportunity to get out of town before she handed over Ruffles’s items to Drostan on Monday night, the deadline the greedy ship captain had given her. It should be more than enough of a payment for Bran’s freedom.
If she had more time, she might be able to come up with the money another way. But Drostan had barely given her a week to pay off Bran’s obligation. The Sassenach’s loot would be her only option. Skipping town with him would get her to Monday night, and then she could sneak back into her house to get the box. If she stayed, Alastair wouldn’t give her the chance to make it to the prearranged meeting at the dock with Drostan. She doubted that a hardened man like Alastair had a heart.
Then she’d go to Edinburgh with Alastair. She already knew what he would want, her service as his personal pickpocket. If she ever got out of that, she could spend the rest of her life taking care of her family and trying to repay Ruffles.
It was easier to think of him as Ruffles because she was getting too close. Despite his wealth, he’d done nothing to indicate he had a bad soul. She actually found herself liking him.
Shivering, she took a couple of steps forward and reached around to unbutton the seam down her back. It was much harder than she’d thought it would be, but she was finally able to pull free from the gown. Sparing a glance at the door, she wondered what would happen if he walked in now, but she was able to get to the items still spread out on the bed and tug the chemise over her head before he could reappear.
After laying the gown carefully across one of the chairs, she ran her fingers over the thin wet material. It was much finer than the other gown, but not as practical. It would be hard to keep this one clean. She walked to Isaac’s dressing table, picked up his brush to run it through her long tresses, and then returned to the bed to move the rest of the items onto the top of the trunk.
Ruffles had not shared where he was going or how long he’d be gone, but she’d heard the click as he’d locked her in the room. He was right not to trust her, and her heart ached that she was that quality of a person.
It wasn’t what she wanted from life, but here she was, a thief in a lord’s midst. At least she was alive.
She reclined on the bed, but images of Alastair’s stern, angry face haunted her as she relived the events leading up to her mistake. She’d found her brother Aiden an apprenticeship with a cabinetmaker and traveled to Edinburgh to deliver him safely.
Along the way, the carriage they had rented became disabled, and the driver wouldn’t give the coin back for the rest of the journey. She’d thought Will would beat the man. Looking back, she was only certain he didn’t because Aiden was still young and impressionable.
They’d had to hire a new wagon out of a portion of the funds they were paying to the cabinetmaker to take Aiden on and their coin for the return journey. Will would have found a way to raise funds, but she’d been impatient and worried about the kids at Camelot with the prospect of them being gone for an extended period.
So, she set out on her own to find a target in the streets of Edinburgh. She should have known there was more to Alastair than his dark good looks as he strolled the street as if he owned them. He did.
Taking his coin had been easy and had also been worth it at the time. Aiden had been so happy when they’d left him with the kindly cabinetmaker, and she still remembered the pleasant smell of the shaved wood that had littered the floor in this shop. One member of her family would have a good life.
She hadn’t even guessed there was a problem until Will came rushing in, grabbing her by the hand and fleeing through the back. They’d only barely gotten to say goodbye to Aiden before they had to skirt through streets they didn’t know, avoiding men who worked for the crime lord of Edinburgh.
She’d picked the wrong pocket yet again.
One day it would get her killed if she weren’t halfway there already.
She’d been surprised when he’d not come for her right away and had instead sent word to Will that she now belonged to Alastair and that he would come to Aberdeen to collect her if she didn’t come to him on her own.
After months of being on guard and watching shadows, she’d become complacent and thought the threat empty. She should have known from his reputation that Alastair wouldn’t show mercy. She’d saved her brother’s apprenticeship and Will’s back but lost her freedom in the bargain. They call him the Edinburgh Overlord, and now she would be his servant too. A tear trailed down her temple and disappeared into her hair.
She fell asleep lamenting that while she might be able to save a few others, she would never make it out of the dregs of the streets.
“I need help.” Isaac burst into Fredrick’s room.
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“She won’t give back the deeds until after the house party. I pray she’s telling the truth, but I have no other option short of beating her or turning her over to a watchman who is more like a doting admirer than an official of the law.” He apparently became a babbling fool when Flora was involved because words just kept flying from his lips.
“What house party?” The valet asked as he peered out into the hall, then shut the door behind him.
“Lord and Lady Stonehaven. We’ll be headed to their Scottish estate this weekend. The silly chit accepted an invitation from Lady Stonehaven.”
“Ugh.” Even Fredrick, who was never at a loss for words, was stunned by the girl’s lack of sense.
“I need the guest list.” He threaded his fingers through his hair.
“Yes, my lord.” The valet sunk into a chair as he probably tried to make sense of the lass’s foolish action.
“You will have to tutor her on eating with other ladies present. I’m not certain she knows how to use a fork, much less a soup spoon. I’ll take care of games and dancing. We need someone to do her hair.
“Oh, good God, I’m going to have to take her shopping. You know how I detest those places.” Isaac paced, dreading the next couple of days filled with doing all the things he hated about society and being stuck with the Scottish lass that made him lose his senses.
Bloody hell, he’d even thought he’d heard music when their lips had pressed together. Some nonsense about symphonies still played on the edges of his consciousness, and he wanted to go back and kiss her until the music stopped or worse yet, brought it back. That was a very bad idea.
He couldn’t get attached to some thieving wench before he had secured his family’s future and restored the Hamilton name. The Scottish air was supposed to be good for you, but all it had done to him was cause an unprecedented lack in his judgement.
“First, I need a deck of cards and food. Have the food brought to our room.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Stop it, Fredrick, just talk to me like I’m a person.”
The old man laughed. “Yes, Nate.” No, that still wasn’t right.
“And call me Isaac. I prefer it.”
“That was what the earl used to call you.” He heard approval and admiration in Fredrick’s words.
“I must ask you to do some digging. William Douglas—find out who he is and what part of Flora’s life he’s in. Then, a man named Alastair is here from Edinburgh. She’s terrified of him, and I must see what I can do to fix that.”
Why did he even care? She was a thief. And the lass was holding his fortune ransom with the threat of sending him to prison. Why did he have to keep reminding himself that she could destroy his life and may have already done so? All he could currently think about was storming back into that room and making music with her.
He’d only barely been able to peel himself away, and his groin still ached from the need to plunge into the little Scottish thief and claim her for his own. She’d taken everything from him . . . including his mind.
“I have to get back in there before she finds a way to escape. She’s good at that, judging by all the men out there looking for her.”
Starting toward the door, he pivoted. “So, food and cards for now. Then we’ll decide on the next steps.”
“Yes, my lord.” Really, did the man have to be so formal all the time? “Isaac.”
He smiled when Fredrick read his mind.
Striding back down the hall, he paused in front of the door and made a plan in his head. He wouldn’t go near her; if he did, he would be too tempted to pull her back into his arms. It was a bad idea to sleep with her before she returned his goods, but how was he going to keep his hands off of her if he couldn’t let her out of his sight?
He unlocked the door and it swung in to reveal an empty room. His gut dropped until he saw brown curls peeking from under the piles of woolen blankets on the bed. He couldn’t blame her for seeking the solace of their depths after the chill of the rain and the night she’d spent tied to a chair. He regretted that now, but he’d thought she might kill him if he left her free to wander the room and find a weapon.
Once he’d shut and locked the door, his feet urged him to her side. And he knew, looking down at the soft curve of her neck and her small hands curled into a gentle arch, he wouldn’t last the week without having to hear how their symphony would sound. He ached even now to pull her close just to hear the melody again.
He had to find his faculties. Turning his back to the beautiful temptation, he strode to the table and was taken aback to see her dress laid out to dry. Thoughts of her naked body assailed him, and he actually groaned.
Taking the delicate dress in his arms, he brought it near as the scent of fresh Scottish air and lavender invaded his nostrils. He carried it to the wardrobe to hang it.
Sitting back at the table, he pulled his grandmother’s locket from around his neck, opened it, and stared down—not at his father, the man who had taken the entire earldom’s fortune and used it to finance the building of five magnificent ships. Instead, he stared at his uncle, who had lost it all in a card game while managing the accounts after his father’s death and before he came of age.
The uncle who, instead of opening up about his mistake, took his own life and nearly left them penniless.
Luckily, he’d been able to find suitable matches for both of his sisters and was no longer responsible for their well-being. However, his mother was still accustomed to living a life of leisure. His father had never cared for the ton and their priggish ways, but his mother had been distraught when their family had been shunned from polite society because his father wouldn’t dress or act the part of a gentleman.
It was probably why she had ingrained in him this need to clear the family name and restore the fortunes and his mother’s good graces with the ton. Suddenly, his chest felt tight, and he had to walk over to the window to get a breath of air. Pulling the cravat from his neck and shrugging off his jacket, then his vest, he walked back to the wardrobe to hang them. He could breathe again.
Three deep knocks echoed through the room. His first instinct was to look over at the bed to assure himself that Flora was undisturbed by the noise. She still lay, almost invisible in the same spot as before, in a dead sleep.
Knowing Fredrick’s knock sounded more like a tap than a cannon, his senses were on alert as he tensed and approached the door with caution. “Who is it?”
“The man who’s going to kill ye if ye dinnae open this door, Lord Dunbridge.”
Flora had told the girl at the bakery where they were staying. He had a feeling he was about to find out who William Douglas really was and what the Highlander meant to his thief.
After unlocking the door, he pulled it in wide to show he had nothing to hide and that the man or his reputation didn’t frighten him. “William.” It was more to let the man know that he was well aware who had come knocking on his door than a question.
It wasn’t a man that stood in the door. It was a hardened predator who watched him with eyes of an eagle, piercing blue, with hair so dark that the devil would have been jealous. The man entered the room without a word, but Isaac blocked the threat’s path. “Where is she?”
“Sleeping.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bed.
Strain and worry shadowed William’s forehead, but it dissolved, shoulders relaxing, as he took in Flora’s form. “We need to talk.”
Moving to the side but still wary, Isaac made room for the Highlander to stalk into his space. Walking straight over to the bed, the man who was even taller than he, paused as he inspected Flora. Satisfied she was unharmed, the stranger turned back to him.
“May I?” William nodded toward the sideboard and the full decanter of whisky he’d yet to partake in.
“Yes.” William’s hand shook as he lifted the carafe.
Sitting at the small table, he kept his gaze riveted on William as he poured two glasses and turned to join Isaac.
“How did ye meet her?” William handed one of the servings to Isaac.
“She stole something important from me.”
William looked down as something like guilt flooded his dark features. “Ye ken she wouldnae have done it had she not been providing for people she felt needed it.” The Highlander swirled the whisky in circles before lifting the glass in salute and then throwing the entire contents back.
“I am starting to see there is more to her than being a common thief.”
“She’s found her way into a bit of trouble.”
“What kind?” He crossed his legs and leaned back.
“She took something from the wrong man.” William’s eyes drifted down, and sadness outweighed the danger in his eyes. It looked like remorse.
“She seems to be good at that.” He felt his own sideways grin as he marveled at all the lives the little Scottish lass seemed to impact.
“Nae, I think maybe she may have picked the right man this time.” The Highlander’s eyes scanned him from head to toe, then nodded.
“Are you going to tell me who Alastair is?”
“Probably the most dangerous man in all of Scotland.”
“What does he want from her? I can pay him,” Isaac said.
He had gone mad, offering this dark stranger the means to pay off a thief’s debt. Isaac downed his dram of whisky.
“Nae, he wants more than that from her. She embarrassed him, and he wants her servitude.”
“Flora does have a way of addling one’s senses.” The statement didn’t explain half of his fascination with her.
“Ye have to keep her away from him.” William ran his hand through his hair as he got up and walked to the other side of the room to pour another glass of the deep amber liquid. He brought the decanter over and dispensed another for Isaac as well.
“Alastair’s watching our house, and he’ll ken when she comes back. I had to lose two of his men before I came here. He’s watching all of us.”
“Does she belong to you?” His fingers tightened around the glass as he waited for the Highlander’s reply.
“Nae, she is her own wild creature. Whoever tames her will be a lucky bastard, though. There’s a lot more to her than her bonny brown eyes.”
Swallowing the filled glass, Isaac set it on the table, then stood, turned his back to William, and walked over to look at the little lass in his bed.
William stood and joined him to glance at her himself before the man’s gaze took on the look of a proud father. The man stalked to the table and stared at his empty glass. He made no move to pour another. “Ye ken when I found her in the streets, she’d already found two other kids and was protecting them like a mother hen. She does what she has to, but she has a good heart.”
“Do you know where she has my box?” Isaac eased back into his chair.
“Nae. She’s got her own hiding places.” The man’s eyes drifted around the room, seeming to take in the lush surroundings. “She doesnae even remember, but I swear she comes from a family with money. The dress she was wearing when I found her was worth more coin than I’d seen in a year. And she had that ring tied around her neck.” William’s brows rose as he studied the object that had just clinked against Isaac’s glass.
“Will ye keep her safe until Alastair leaves? I’ll find a way to repay you.”
“If you can find my box, I’ll make sure Alastair doesn’t take her.”
William turned on him then, his piercing blue eyes suddenly cold and feral like a wild wolf on the prowl. “I don’t like ultimatums. Especially from earls out of their element. I cannae promise ye something I don’t ken. That will be up to her.”
Silence clung to the air.
Isaac swallowed and dipped his head. “I’ll keep her safe then. Ye won’t have to worry about her.”
“I’m trusting ye. Ye protect her or the line of people who want to see ye dead will be a long one.”