Highlanders (49 page)

“Halifax, there are too many people in the square and we cannot chance a bullet going through one of the cottages,” Erroll said. “We will settle this in the field yonder.”

Halifax tossed his pistol to the ground. “I will not duel.”

The click of hammers being pulled back on several guns resounded in the quiet. “We think ye will, laddie,” said one man.

Halifax glanced wildly about at half a dozen guns pointed at him. “Y-you cannot do this. Do you know who I am?”

“You are the man who kidnapped another man’s fiancé, then tried to rape her in order to force her into marriage,” Erroll said.

“Rape?” Grace Crenshaw repeated.

Halifax shook his head. “No, it is a mistake. That is not what happened.” He jerked to the left where the elder sister stood beside Somerset. Somerset drew her aside as if to shield her with his body. Halifax’s eyes widened. “Miss Crenshaw—Eve—tell them. It was a jest. Nothing more.”

“A jest?” Erroll repeated. “I found you on top of her.” In one fluid action, Erroll yanked up his pistol and drew back the hammer as he leveled the gun on him.

“No!” Halifax cried. “Tell him, Miss Crenshaw. It was a jest and when you found us, we had fallen on the floor.”

Erroll kept his pistol steady. “Was it a jest, Miss Crenshaw?”

She hesitated and anger stabbed through him.

“It started out innocently enough,” she said.

“Innocent?” Erroll took a step toward Halifax, his pistol aimed at the man’s heart.

“He deserves to be shot,” said the man acting as Halifax’s second. “But a jury will be more compassionate with a fair fight than an unarmed man who is gunned down while the whole town looks on.”

Yes, there was that, and Erroll’s military rank—along with the fact that it would be a Scot—even a wealthy Scot whose mother was the daughter of an English duke—who had gunned down an English nobleman. All of which would guarantee a conviction. He might still receive the conviction even in a fair duel.

“My lord,” Miss Eve Crenshaw pleaded. He glanced at her. She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Please.”

“You know very well he intended to embarrass me by ruining you.” Erroll pointed his pistol heavenward and released the hammer. “I would have survived. But you…have you no concern for your reputation—or your honor?”

Her expression darkened. “Honor, you say?”

Too late, Erroll realized his mistake.

“You are a fine one to talk about my honor, when you sneaked into my room in the dead of night and accosted me.”

Laughter erupted in the crowd.

“I did not accost you.” Memory of the pleasurable discomfort as his face was mashed between her lush breasts followed with startling—and potentially embarrassing—intensity, and he said in irritation, “It was you who pointed a gun at me.”

“Christ,” Graham muttered, “and you English call us barbarians.”

She snorted. “If you had not barged into my bedchambers, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“That was not my fault,” Erroll said. “Neither is this. I am not the one who plotted to have a man kidnapped.”

This time she didn’t blush. “Lord Halifax did not kidnap me because of that.”

“You are correct, madam. Your kidnapping is entirely my fault, but I plan to rectify that.” Erroll turned his attention to Halifax. “If the dear earl does not take up his pistol, I will publish in the London Times that he kidnapped and raped you. Then I will visit every club and hell in London and repeat the accusation.”

Halifax’s mouth twisted in rage. “That is a damned lie.”

Erroll shrugged. “Not for lack of trying on your part. I feel certain the tarnish to your reputation will never quite disappear, particularly if I avail myself of every opportunity to recount the story.”

“All right you Scottish bastard,” Halifax snarled. “You will have your duel, but instruct your kinsmen to let me go once I put a bullet through your heart.”

A collective gasp went up in the crowd.

“Wait,” Halifax’s second said. “Rushton—Erroll MacLean, your father is the Marquess of Rushton?”

“At your service,” Erroll said.

“It would seem we Scots are barbarians after all,” he said.

“But not barbarians who rape women.”

“Aye.” The man looked at Halifax. “His lordship is right. We cannot conduct a duel in the square. Move along.”

“Really, sir,” Eve Crenshaw said, “is getting shot twice in one week a good idea?”

Graham whooped. “By God,
she
is the woman who shot you?”

“News travels fast,” Erroll muttered, and wondered how quickly this newest turn of events would reach his father’s sharp ears.

“News like this does.” Graham laughed. “This outdoes even your reputation, MacLean.”

He was more right than Erroll liked. “Halifax—”

“Come now, Rushton,” he cut in. “The lady is unharmed. We are in Gretna where you can marry her and circumvent all gossip. Surely that is what you had in mind when you disappeared with her into the gardens at Lady Grendall’s party. Our tempers have cooled enough to see that it is best to part on good terms. If tomorrow you feel the same, as is the custom, have a letter sent round my way. You must admit, forcing a duel like this is highly irregular.”

“It is, indeed, highly irregular—for a gentleman to kidnap another man’s intended wife. But you mistake a cool head for a lack of conviction. The only thing that kept me from shooting you on sight is the fact I stopped you from doing Miss Crenshaw any real harm.” Erroll swung his gaze onto her. “I did succeed?” It hadn’t occurred to him that he might have stopped Halifax from raping her a second or third time. Maybe Halifax hadn’t waited as Erroll assumed.

“He did nothing more than tear my dress,” she said.

“That will suffice.” Erroll shifted his gaze back to the earl. “Now, Halifax.”

*****

The fear Eve saw in Lord Rushton’s eyes when he’d said
“I did succeed?”
was matched by the cold fury evident in the simple words,
“Now, Halifax.”

She racked her brain for a way to stop their march past the cottages and into the field. It seemed the entire town followed, with her, Lord Somerset, Oscar, and Grace close behind. Grace’s presence worried Eve. If Lord Rushton wasn’t to be stopped, then he couldn’t afford any distractions. It would be like Grace to scream or utter some dramatic exclamation as the two men turned to face one another.

Lord Rushton at last stopped and Eve took several paces left, toward Grace. Grace cast her an anxious glance as the two men faced each other.

“One shot,” Halifax said. “If you miss, this is finished.”

The earl canted his head in agreement. “So long as you agree that you will never again approach Miss Crenshaw.”

Lord Halifax gave a condescending snort. “No need to worry.”

Lord Rushton turned to Halifax’s second, “Should the need arise, you will see to it the ladies reach home safely?”

Eve knew what ‘should the need arise’ meant and the burn of tears pricked her eyes.

A corner of the man’s mouth twitched. “I will personally see them home—along with the entourage that accompanied the other lady.”

“You leading that band back to England would be the finishing touch,” Lord Rushton said.

As the two men turned back to back, Eve leaned close to Grace and said, “Do not utter so much as a peep.” Grace opened her mouth, but Eve seized her arm and jerked. “Grace, he could die.” Grace’s eyes widened and Eve feared she would cry. “Get a hold of yourself,” Eve hissed under her breath.

Grace gave a jerky nod as Graham called “One,” and she grasped Eve’s hand as the men took a pace with each count.

Eve’s heart pounded and her mind searched wildly for something—anything—that would halt this madness. But even as Halifax’s second counted
twenty
, Lord Halifax whirled. The report of his gun broke across the soft chirp of birds as Lord Rushton turned, arm outstretched, pistol pointed at the earl.

“No!” Lord Halifax cried. The pistol fell from his grip and he took a faltering step back as Lord Rushton pulled the trigger. 

Chapter Nine

A shot rang out and Lord Halifax clutched his stomach. A moment of expectant silence passed. Then the earl dropped to his knees, blood seeping through his fingers. Pandemonium broke out and Erroll allowed the arm gripping the pistol to drop to his side. He crossed to Halifax, scooped up his pistol, then stood aside for the doctor, who followed two paces behind, along with half a dozen other men. Duncan knelt beside the earl and felt for a pulse at Halifax’s neck. He removed Halifax’s limp hand from his belly and unbuttoned his shirt to examine the wound.

“John, Angus, come on,” he called, then pushed to his knees. “You too, lads,” he addressed two others. “Carry him inside and put him on the table.” Duncan looked at Erroll. “He isna’ dead, but he may yet meet his maker.”

“You will keep me apprised,” Erroll said.

“You may not know for some time, but if he dies in the next few minutes…” Duncan shrugged.

“I will await your word.” Erroll turned and scanned the crowd for the owner of the Scottish pistol. He spotted him talking with another man and strode to his side. The man stopped talking when he arrived, Erroll handed the pistol to its owner, and said, “Thank you.”

The man nodded and Erroll joined the two Miss Crenshaws, who stood with Oscar and Somerset.

“Oh my lord,” Miss Grace Crenshaw said. “How gallant of you to protect Eve’s honor. That blackguard deserved to be shot. But I am immensely relieved you are unharmed.  ”

“You bloody fool,” the elder Crenshaw sister snapped. “Is he dead?”

Grace Crenshaw gasped. “Eve, do not talk to his lordship that way.”

Her sister cut her a scathing look. “He is not to be congratulated.” She looked at Erroll, “Well, sir?”

“I did not manage to kill him.”

“Have you lost your mind?” she seethed. “That was one of the stupidest things I have ever had the misfortune to see.”

“Would you rather I had let Halifax get away with rape?”

“You could have dragged him in front of a magistrate. Where is your good sense?”

“You mean ‘good sense’ like having a man kidnapped and forced to marry a sister?” Erroll remarked.

“That plan did not include a duel.”

“Lord Somerset might disagree—as would your dear Oscar. Both were ready to send me to my reward.”

She gave a deprecating snort. “Neither would have carried out their threats.”

“You are wrong. Oscar would have made a point of it.”

“Eve,” her sister cut in, “you have no right to be angry with his lordship. He was perfectly correct in dealing with Lord Halifax. Good heavens, what prompted him to kidnap you?”

“That would be Lord Rushton’s doing,” the elder sister retorted.

Erroll gave a slight bow. “Guilty as charged. Next time, I will stay out of Neville’s business.”

“That isn’t what I mean and you know it,” she retorted.

“Madam, I have not the slightest idea what you
mean
. But I am reminded that no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Rubbish,” she muttered. “But never mind, we should be on our way,”

“Not just yet. I must wait for the doctor’s report.”

Her mouth parted in surprise. “You said Lord Halifax wasn’t dead.”

“Not yet,” Erroll replied.

“My God,” she blurted. “Then we must be going. If he dies—”

“He is likely to live,” Erroll interrupted. “The man doesn’t have the good grace to die like a man.”

“You should pray he lives. A murder charge is no small matter. How in God’s name did you discover he kidnapped me?”

“Ahh, so it was kidnapping.” Her eyes narrowed and he quickly added, “I heard a rumor that you were seen with the earl in his coach.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh dear.”

“Papa will have your head this time,” the younger sister said.

“Yes, he will.”

“There is one way to solve all our problems,” Miss Grace Crenshaw said. “I will marry Lord Rushton, and Eve will marry Lord Somerset. He has asked for her hand a dozen times.”

“Not a dozen.” Eve cast an embarrassed glance at him, then Erroll.

“I would be honored to marry Miss Crenshaw,” Somerset said.

“Surely you see the wisdom in the plan,” Miss Grace Crenshaw never took her eyes off Erroll. “Papa has already ordered that you marry one of us.”

“I believe it was your sister he ordered me to marry,” Erroll said.

“That was his second order,” she said. “He did intend you marry me first. He cannot very well shoot my husband.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Oscar said. “You father doesn’t like being disobeyed.”

“Nonsense,” the younger sister said. “If Eve marries Lord Somerset, then there will be no need for papa to be angry on any account.”

Halifax’s second joined Erroll. “Seems ye had better be on your way.”

“Has Halifax died?” Erroll demanded.

Graham shook he head. “Nay, but you know how it is. There is always one busy body who wants to be in the thick of things. One such fellow sounded the alarm after the duel was finished.”

“At least he stayed for the show,” Erroll said. “How long before the sheriff arrives?”

“Word has only been sent, but if you leave now you will have an hour’s head start,” Graham replied.

Erroll grasped Miss Eve Crenshaw’s elbow and hurried her through the field and back to Halifax’s carriage. Erroll opened the carriage door.

Miss Crenshaw pulled free of his hold. “You will make better time without us. If you ride at a gallop, you can reach the border in minutes.

“You might think twice about going to England,” Graham said. “The sheriff is English.”

Erroll looked sharply at him. “When did Scotland start employing English law enforcement officers?”

The man grinned. “This is Gretna. English come here to escape their own marriage restrictions. We see our fair share of trouble from angry fathers. The Crown decided they were losing too many fair maidens to the scoundrels we let marry them.”

“We cannot possibly outrun him in a fully loaded carriage,” Miss Crenshaw said. “You must flee on your own.”

“I do not
flee
,” he said.

“For heaven’s sake, forget your pride and go.”

“You might consider a ship,” Graham said. “Fishing vessels dock at Silloth.”

“Thank you,” Erroll said. “But not Silloth. If the tide is low, we would not be able to sail until high tide.”

Graham nodded. “Aye. You may want to go direct to Allonby or Maryport. The trip is longer, but you are sure to find a ship captain willing to take you at one of those ports.

“Quite right.” Erroll faced his companions. “You ladies will ride in the carriage. I will drive and, you, Oscar and Somerset, will ride.”

Miss Eve Crenshaw shook her head. “You can elude the sheriff faster without us.”

Erroll grunted. “You two ladies sealed your fate and mine when you had me kidnapped. We all go together.  We’ll sort out this mess once we reach our destination.”

“And where might that be?”

“That does not concern you.”

“It does—but never mind. I plan to return home.”

“Oscar,” Erroll said, “if you are going to stop me, now is the time; otherwise, I am putting your mistress in this coach and you will see to it she doesn’t jump out.”

“Have you lost your mind?” she demanded.

“Eve,” Somerset said, “he’s right. You cannot simply return to England. There is an alternative, however. Marry me—”

“For heaven’s sake, I have no intention of marrying you.”

His lips pursed. “As you wish. Then you will marry Lord Rushton.”

Somerset rose a notch in Erroll’s estimation, even if the viscount wasn’t helping Erroll’s cause.

“Lord Rushton is my betrothed,” Grace Crenshaw interjected.

“I thought you were going to marry the other one,” Graham said.

“Oh no,” the younger Miss Crenshaw went on. “That has been the plan all along.” She smiled up at Erroll. “Hand fasting takes mere minutes. Surely we have time to complete the ceremony before we leave? We can then use my coach for the trip.”

“You have a coach?” he asked. “Is it ready?”

She shook her head. “I was not anticipating a hasty departure. I engaged a room for us at the inn.”

Erroll cut a look Eve’s way. “I see you thought of everything.”

“That was not Eve’s idea, my lord.”

“You?” he asked the younger sister.

“Yes. But as we now must leave immediately, we can have my carriage readied while the ceremony is performed. That way, we can ensure all is in order when we reach the coast.”

“All is in order?” he repeated, then comprehended her meaning. “Madam, are you suggesting that we consummate our marriage during a carriage ride? Good God, you are what, eighteen years of age? How does a mere chit of a girl contrive to spread her legs for a man in a carriage?”

“You are as guilty as her,” the elder sister cut in with asperity. “She started this mess by lying, but you have even less excuse than her. She is young, you are not. You should have kept a cool head and spoken with my father instead of breaking into my room. You have no one to blame but yourself for this mess.”

“You are right,” Erroll said, then lifted and tossed her into the carriage.

*****

In the last three hours, Eve had failed to devise a way to unravel the mess that now had her and Grace settled in the cabin of a collier ship bound for the Isle of Mull. The Isle of Mull. Holy God, she didn’t want to contemplate what would happen once they reached Lord Rushton’s childhood home. The possibilities boggled her mind.

The carriage trip had given Eve time to think—too much time—and, in the end, she couldn’t fault the earl for forcing her and Grace to go with him. He was, in fact, acting far more chivalrous than they deserved. No doubt, news of the duel was already speeding toward Manchester, headed, ultimately, for London. By tomorrow night, the tidbit would be in all the gossip papers and on the lips of
Society
’s best. If Lord Halifax died, a warrant for Lord Rushton’s arrest would be issued, and he would have to flee again, probably aboard a ship bound for America.

“I do not understand why you didn’t accept Lord Somerset’s proposal,” Grace’s voice broke into Eve’s thoughts.  ”The two of you could have returned to Manchester.”

Obviously, Grace, too, had been mulling over recent events. Eve looked up from her folded hands that rested on the small table and met her sister’s gaze. Grace lounged on the bed they would share for the voyage.

“I do not love him.”

Grace shifted against the pillow she’d propped up in the corner. “Love has nothing to do with marriage.”

“Not everyone marries for position and money, Grace.”

“People do not marry for love, either. If you and Lord Somerset weren’t here, I would have no trouble with his lordship.”

“He seems decided against marrying you.”

“Why?” Grace said. “Because he wants to marry you? Or is it that you want to marry him?”

“What?”

“Is that why you lured him into the gardens at Lady Grendall’s party?”

Eve’s heartbeat jumped. 

Grace’s stare bore into her. “Did you think I didn’t hear when Lord Halifax told Lord Rushton on the dueling field?”

“Things are not what they appear.”

“No?”

Eve hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on those minutes in the garden when Lord Rushton had kissed her, or the even longer minutes they’d been jammed together and he had—“No,” Eve said. “It isn’t what you think. I did ask him to walk with me, but Oscar was there, waiting to kidnap him. By that time it was late, very late, and I had thought Lord Rushton was already on his way to you in Gretna. Grace, I was beside myself when he appeared at Lady Grendall’s ball.”
All the truth.
“Lord Somerset was there making a nuisance of himself, I feared he would call out Lord Rushton right there. He told me outright he would shoot the earl.”

Grace frowned and Eve could see the wheels turning inside her head. She rushed on. “I knew Lord Rushton wanted to speak with me—think nothing of it,” she added, when Grace opened her mouth to interrupt. “He and I have had no chance to speak since this mess began. It only makes sense he would want to speak with me. In any case, I saw that Oscar was lurking in the bushes and knew it was then or never. After Oscar hit him over the head, I tried to put a halt to the insane scheme, but Oscar said it was you or me.”

“Oscar really said that?” Grace asked.

“Yes, and he was right. So, against my better judgment, I relented. Lord Rushton does not want to marry me. But beware, Grace, despite our father’s threats, he seems quite determined not to marry anyone.”

“There is no reason he can’t marry me,” Grace said. “Papa might not like it at first, but he would accept it.”

“Papa will not be pleased if it turns out you wed a murderer.”

“Rubbish. Lord Rushton was protecting your honor. Lord Halifax kidnapped you.”