Seduced by a Scot Read online

  On her heels was Mr. Rumpkin, who had found a pair of trousers and a coat. He had not found the waistcoat or neckcloth, but at least he’d removed the offending soiled nightshirt.

  “Is this how you’ll take your leave, then? Without so much as a fare thee well?” he’d shouted at Miss Darby as she strode toward Nichol.

  She ignored him. Did not pay him the slightest heed. This woman. Nichol didn’t know if he ought to be appalled by her lack of civility or impressed with her courage to stand up to Rumpkin. And to him, for that matter.

  She arrived before him and dropped her bag. He glanced at her shoes. Silk, by the look of it. “Those will no’ do for a long journey, Miss Darby,” he said, nodding in the direction of her feet.

  “They will have to do, Mr. Bain. They are all I have. When I was banished from the home I’ve known for a dozen years, I was no’ permitted the luxury of time to consider all that I might need, aye?”

  Nichol’s opinion of Garbett was rapidly deteriorating.

  “Is this it, then? After feeding you and putting a roof over your fool head?” Mr. Rumpkin demanded.

  Miss Darby looked up at the sky, at the dusting of snow that was beginning to fade away. She looked at Nichol, then at the groom. “Where is the carriage?”

  “Carriage!” Mr. Rumpkin said with a sputter. “You think too highly of yourself!”

  Miss Darby looked at Nichol.

  “No carriage,” he said simply.

  She studied the horses, then young Gavin in his saddle.

  “Where is the maid? Surely I’m no’ to travel without a female companion.”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Garbett’s resources did no’ allow for a maid. We’ll be but a day.”

  Her eyes widened with alarm. “Where is my mount, then?”

  Nichol patted the rump of his horse.

  Miss Darby stared at the horse, then at him. Her mouth dropped open. She looked at the groom again, but the lad studiously avoided her gaze. “Do you mean I am to ride with you?” she asked incredulously. “Without chaperone or a lass?”

  “Aye.”

  “You never said I would ride with you, on the same horse!”

  Nichol bowed his head. “Quite right you are. Allow me to correct the oversight—you are to ride with me, on the same horse. Without chaperone or a lass.”

  She gasped. “I will no’!”

  “Och, I knew she’d no’ go,” Mr. Rumpkin said. “Too lazy, she is. She’s had it easy.”

  With that remark, something flashed in Miss Darby’s brilliant blue eyes. She slowly turned and glanced at the offending man over her shoulder, muttered something that sounded French, then picked up her bag. For a moment, Nichol thought she meant to return to her room at the top of the tower, but she suddenly threw the bag at him.

  Nichol caught it with one hand. She stomped forward, presenting herself to be seated on the horse. How odd, Nichol thought, that at this moment, he was having to fight a small smile. Her defiant spunk amused him.

  “What’s this?” Rumpkin demanded as Nichol lashed her bag onto his horse. “You mean to go with him, then?” he demanded of Miss Darby. “Have you any idea the sort of talk you will cause if people see you riding off as if you were a dead fox draped across his lap?”

  Miss Darby looking imploringly at Nichol. “Will you please be quick about it?”

  He cupped his hands and bent at the waist to give her a lift. She slammed her foot into his hands, and he vaulted her skyward. She landed lopsidedly on the saddle and cried out with alarm, but managed to catch herself before she slid off the other side and landed on her bottom.

  “Go on then, ride out of here like the slut you are, aye?” Mr. Rumpkin shouted.

  Nichol turned, walked calmly to where Mr. Rumpkin stood swaying to keep his balance. He caught him by the open neck of his shirt. “You’ve caused enough harm, aye? No’ another word, sir, or I shall put my fist in your mouth and shove it all the way down your gullet to make sure you never utter another word again.” He shoved Rumpkin away, and the man stumbled backward. He was drunk enough that he went down onto his arse with a great thud.

  “You’ll no’ treat me in this way!” he screeched, but made no move to pick himself up. “You will compensate me for the broken window, that you will, or I’ll have the proper authorities searching for you ere you leave Aberuthen!”

  Nichol walked back to the mounts, put his foot in the stirrup and launched himself onto the horse, directly behind Miss Darby. He hitched the horse about and nodded at Gavin. They trotted out of the drive while Mr. Rumpkin dumbly watched them go.

  Miss Darby did not look back once.

  “Donna sit so close,” she said, and wiggled, trying to put some space between them. “I donna want to be so familiar with you, aye?”

  “Do you want to be difficult?” Nichol asked casually.

  She snorted. “You may depend on it, Mr. Bain.”

  “Good,” Nichol said, and spurred his horse to canter. “I like a challenge.”

  She shot him a look over her shoulder. He arched a single brow and smiled. Her gaze moved quickly over his face, and then she abruptly turned, shifting her body forward so she would not touch him. But the horse was moving too fast, and she would bounce right off. Nichol put his arm around her waist to hold her in place.

  “I beg your pardon!” she said angrily. “Is this part of Mr. Garbett’s scheme, too? Did he think I deserved to be carried off like so much luggage?”

  An actual response to her question did not seem necessary, particularly when she immediately asked another question.

  “Where are we going? It will be dark soon. You canna mean to carry on in the dark.”

  His hope was that they would reach Crieff before it was too dark, but before he could answer, she said, “It is apparent that I’ve traded one wretched situation for another, is it no’?” Nichol sensed she had asked her question of the heavens, and not of him. He was right.

  “I will be forced to ride like a hostage across all of Scotland and for what? Another man who might abuse my sensibilities?”

  “You have my word I will leave your sensibilities verra much untouched,” he said.

  She clucked her tongue. “You will pardon me for no’ believing you, Mr. Bain. In my experience, a man’s word is hardly reliable. Mr. Garbett once vowed I would always have a home with him, and yet, here I am, cast out. In the dark,” she added, looking about with a wee bit of nervousness.

  Nichol didn’t say anything to that, but it was true that he might know more about being cast out of a home than he was willing to share.

  “I know what you think,” she continued. “But on my honor, I didna kiss that man. You canna know how impossible it is to breathe when no one believes you. What motive would I have to lie? Och, but I hardly expect you to understand,” she said with a shake of her head.

  Nichol opened his mouth to argue that perhaps he could, but Miss Darby barreled on. “I canna be blamed that, on the rare occasion I was included in a gathering or a call with Sorcha, that gentlemen often looked to me. I never invited it and did my best to avoid it, on my word! But gentlemen believe themselves to be irresistible to the fairer sex and canna possibly believe that a lass would no’ desire his attention, and seek to right that wrong. Even when a lass’s lack of desire is clearly stated, aye? Mr. Cadell was the worst offender! I was quite clear that I didna want his attentions, that he was no’ to touch me, that I would scream if he did, and do you know what he said? He said, ‘You donna mean that,’ and put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me against the wall and bloody well kissed me.”

  She paused, cast a quick glance at Nichol over her shoulder. “I beg your pardon for my choice of words,” she added demurely. “I feel passionately that I’ve been wronged, I do.”

  “I would—”

  “Och, donna give me platitudes, I beg of you
. I’ve heard enough of them in the last fortnight, I have. And besides, I can guess easily enough what you think, Mr. Bain—that a man’s desire canna be denied or some such foolishness.”

  “That is no’—”

  “But what of a woman’s desire, I ask you? Am I to have no say in it? Must I be subjected to him because he canna help himself? I tried to warn Mrs. Garbett and Sorcha about him, on my life I did. I meant it to warn her, to relate something of vital importance that she verra well ought to know, aye? But instead of thanking me for my honesty, Mrs. Garbett accused me of inviting his attentions. You’d no’ believe what they said!”

  “You donna—”

  “They claimed that I’ve long had a habit of walking and speaking and smiling that serves only to invite male attention, and for that reason, I was often left at home, for I couldna be trusted. I swear to you, Mr. Bain, I swear on my father’s grave, that I walk and I speak and I smile in the only manner I know how, and it is no’ to invite attention, it is to get from one place to the next.”

  He silently arched a brow, uncertain if he was allowed yet to speak.

  Apparently it was not yet his turn, for Miss Darby sighed, then drew a deep breath to launch once more.

  Nichol guessed that she had not had the opportunity to say these things to anyone, and all her feelings about what had happened in Stirling were pouring forth.

  “If that were all of it, I would find my peace with it, on my word, I would. But that was no’ all of it, oh no. The Cadells were guests for more than a fortnight, and Mr. Cadell could no’ be avoided. He sought me out at every opportunity, even though he was affianced to Sorcha. Mrs. Garbett said I purposely seduced him. No’ only did she accuse me, they cast me out, and then took the only thing of my family that belonged to me. I would have gladly returned the gowns that were passed down to me and kept with the two muslins Mr. Garbett commissioned for me, but they took my necklace. My necklace, my heritage. Left to me! Can you believe the gall of it? After all these years, after trying so desperately to stay in the shadows for the sake of Sorcha, and they took my necklace!”

  Nichol hadn’t heard of any jewelry. “What necklace?”

  “My necklace, my necklace!” she said impatiently, as if she’d explained this to him before. “It was a king’s gift to my great-grandmother, handed down to my mother and then to me. It’s quite valuable, but believe me when I say it’s worth canna compare to the sentimental value it holds for me, aye? It is the only thing I’ve left of my family, the only thing that ties me to my name.”

  Something shuddered through Nichol. He understood better than this young woman could possibly imagine what it was to want to belong to a name. He understood how deeply unsettling it was to feel the snap of that thin thread. “This is the first I have heard of a necklace, Miss Darby. Had I known, I would have bargained to have it returned to you.”

  “Och, but you would have lost that bargain,” she said sullenly. “The depravity there is surely beyond your ability to comprehend, Mr. Bain.”

  “On the contrary, I comprehend quite well,” he said, and left it at that. It would be impossible to explain to her how or why he comprehended it as well as he did.

  She twisted about so that she could view him fully and with unconcealed skepticism. “Donna tease me, Mr. Bain. You are no’ acquainted with me, and it will no’ be apparent to you that at present, I am in a very foul humor and likely will take offense. I canna even promise that I’ll no’ hit something quite hard.”

  She seemed very serious indeed, and Nichol made an effort to keep any sort of smile from his face. “I’ve had an inkling to your state of mind,” he said, thinking that might be obvious, seeing as how she would not answer the door, then tried to keep him out by locking a window. “You’ve made it abundantly clear to all, then. I’d no’ tease you, Miss Darby. Mr. Cadell is a coward and a scoundrel. Desire that is not mutually shared between a gentleman and a lady is pointless and vulgar.”

  She blinked, her gaze on his mouth, as if she didn’t believe he’d actually spoken those words.

  “Unfortunately, what I believe doesna change your situation. I have endeavored to find a solution that suits you. No’ Mr. Garbett. You.”

  She snorted and shook her head, and turned her glittering blue eyes away from him, and Nichol felt a tiny little flicker of regret that she had. “There is nothing that will suit me, Mr. Bain. My patience and accommodating nature are at an end!”

  He didn’t think it his place to persuade her otherwise, and even if he’d been so inclined, he would not have the opportunity. Now that Miss Darby had been freed from the wretched conditions in Aberuthen and the Garbett house and, apparently, her silence, she had a long list of complaints.

  “They forced me to leave all behind,” she said again. “It was vindictive. It hardly mattered that all these years I endeavored to be pleasing, to stay well in the shadows, to keep to my room. But Sorcha and her mother were determined to lay blame and hardship at my feet, they were. What would be the harm, I ask you, in bringing along my needlework?” she demanded, her voice full of anger once again. “It was only half finished, useless to all of them, aye? Och, I donna care, Mr. Bain, I donna. I will start anew.”

  Nichol exchanged a look with Gavin, who seemed unduly wary, as he if he expected her to start anew here and now and somehow involve him in it. Nichol was glad he wasn’t called upon to assure the lad otherwise—she did seem quite determined.

  Her list of complaints against the Garbetts went on for a good quarter hour more, at which point, Miss Darby seemed to have aired all her grievances and had lost her thirst for the airing. She seemed spent, taxed by the work of saying it all aloud, to have God and the world know how she’d been wronged.

  She said no more until Nichol signaled Gavin that they would stop for the night, having decided they would not reach an inn before dark. He remembered a hollow they’d passed, where they could make camp, sheltered from wind. And it was on the banks of a creek so the horses could drink. He led them there.

  It had stopped snowing, but the sky remained a dull slate gray turning to dark blue. Miss Darby did not hesitate to leap from her perch when Nichol reined to a halt, landing awkwardly on all fours, then disappearing into the woods. Gavin looked at Nichol with alarm, but Nichol shook his head. What would she do, run into dark woods with no place to go? She needed a moment of privacy, that was all.

  Nichol was pulling the saddle from his horse when she returned to the small clearing. She looked with confusion at the saddle in his hands. “What are you doing, then?” she demanded.

  “We’ll bed here for the night.”

  “Here?”

  “Aye, here,” he said. “It’s too dark to carry on, aye? I’ll no’ risk injury to one of the horses.”

  She looked around her. “But we’re in the middle of nowhere!”

  “That is no’ entirely accurate. We are between Aberuthen,” he said, pointing to the north, “and Crieff,” he said, pointing to the south. “No’ as much as a day’s ride to Stirling, aye?” he added, pointing in the direction of Stirling. “We are indeed somewhere, Miss Darby, and this is a good place to water and graze the horses.”

  She gaped at him. Then at Gavin, who kept his head down and avoided her gaze. “Has my reputation been so irreparably damaged that you give no thought to it, sir? Am I to be humiliated further?”

  “I mean to protect you, Miss Darby, no’ harm you. Necessity demands adaptation, and I rather doubt you will be thought of any less for having slept under a night sky than an inn’s roof.” He unfurled a bedroll and laid his plaid on top of it. He bowed, and gestured grandly to the pallet he’d made. “You may avail yourself of this accommodation.”

  Miss Darby lifted her chin. She pulled her cloak tightly around her. “This is hardly accommodation,” she muttered.

  “I am confident you will weather it.”

  “Oh,
I shall weather it, Mr. Bain. I have weathered much worse.” With a dramatic swirl of her cloak, she fell onto the pallet and rolled to her side, facing away from him.

  Nichol gazed down at her, sprawled on his plaid in a snit. She really was quite beautiful in his eyes. Her hair was inky black, and her eyes the color of a robin’s egg. She had a lush figure that, in any other circumstance, would have caused his mouth to water. He thought she would be quite bonny if she ever felt like smiling again. He would like to see that, personally, but rather doubted he would be afforded the pleasure, given the nature of what would be a very short acquaintance. Her situation was not going to miraculously improve overnight and make her suddenly happy.

  Nichol glanced at Gavin. The poor lad’s eyes were nearly bulging out of his head. He looked at Nichol, as if expecting him to explain a woman’s scorn. But that was beyond Nichol’s considerable talents, and he shook his head, then instructed Gavin to gather wood for a fire.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MAURA WOKE WITH a start, a swell of panic filling her throat as she frantically tried to sort out where she was or what was happening to her. A moment or two of blinking and sputtering against leaves stuck to her lips brought it all back to her—she was asleep on a forest floor. Her bones ached from cold and one arm tingled with a loss of feeling.

  How long had she been asleep?

  She recalled the surge of annoyance at this unexpected turn of events, then dropping onto the pallet Mr. Bain had made for her, and then...and then her eyes had felt scratchy, her lids heavy and her body so grateful to be off that horse.

  She smelled smoke. Maura rolled onto her back, her gaze landing first on the small ring of fire, and then on Mr. Bain sitting beside her, his back against the trunk of a tree. He had one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched before him. He was holding a book.

  Maura blinked. The man was reading by the light of the fire, as if this was a lazy summer evening.

  Without looking at her, he held out a linen handkerchief.