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Authors: Karen Hawkins

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BOOK: Mad for the Plaid
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Da
. It took quite a while to fit all of Her Grace's trunks on the luggage cart, but we managed.”

“She always packs enough for ten women. One of her many flaws. But if the trunks have been strapped in place, then we are done here.” Nik ignored the sinking feeling that pressed on his stomach as he walked to the fire. “Thus ends a very trying chapter.”

Apraksin watched him. “You've had an eventful few weeks.”

“That I have.” More than he wished to admit. He cut a look at the courtier. “Where is Her Grace?”

“She is in the blue salon saying good-bye to the Mackenzies.”

Good-byes.
Nik didn't want to think of those. Just the word made his chest ache anew. “And Rurik?”

Apraksin's expression hardened. “He will be in the second coach. I put twelve guards on him, none of them his own. I will be with him as well, and if he so much as moves, I will kill him.”

“Keep him in irons. He was so angry with me. I do not think that will change.”

Apraksin nodded. “He will face trial the second he reaches Oxenburg. Your father has demanded it.”

“He will have to face his own father first.” Nik sighed heavily. “I imagine Rurik dreads that more.”

“His father is devastated.” Apraksin hesitated, and then added, “He wrote a most kind letter to you and the duchess. It arrived this morning.”

“He is a good man. He deserved better than this.”

Apraksin's gaze flickered over Nik's face. “We all did.”

“Any word on the tsar? I saw the messenger arrive earlier.”

“The tsar awaits us in Edinburgh. I thought to tell you once we were under way.”

“What does he say about Rurik's accusations?”

Apraksin gave a humorless smile. “Naturally, he denies everything and says he is impatient to begin the talks.”

“Of course.” Nik raked a hand through his hair, suddenly sick of it all—the false words, broken promises, and bloody treachery. They turned his stomach and wore
upon his soul. He closed his eyes a long moment, and then said, “I must take my leave of Lady Ailsa and her family.”

“We owe them a debt of gratitude.”

“We do. Though, if her cousin had been a better shot, we would not have to take Rurik back to Oxenburg at all.”

Apraksin smiled. “At least Mackenzie hit Rurik's arm and kept him from harming anyone else. His elbow is shattered and causes him much pain. I find that most satisfying.”

Nik might have felt sympathy for the man who'd betrayed him, but the bastard would have killed Ailsa with no more thought than he'd give to slapping a fly.

Nik's throat tightened.
Had she died, what would I have done?
He wished he could stop remembering the moment, but it burned into his mind. Every night since then, he'd awakened sweat-drenched, his heart pounding as if he'd been running from death itself.

He realized Apraksin was still waiting. “One question. There was a bit of Mackenzie tartan left pinned under the wheel of Hamilton's coach when all this first happened.”

Apraksin grimaced. “Rurik wished to leave a trail that led far, far from the tsar.”

“So he was trying to tie the abduction to the clan war.” Nik shook his head. “Go ahead to the blue salon. I will meet you there shortly.”

“Very good, Your Highness.” Apraksin looked as if he wished to say something more, but one look at Nik and the courtier bowed, and left.

Nik rubbed his hands over his face, tired from lack of sleep, and achingly sad. Rurik's brutal betrayal had hurt in ways Nik didn't yet understand.

He walked to the fire and stared with unseeing eyes at the flames. He had to go downstairs and say good-bye to Ailsa under the watchful gaze of her grandmother and cousin. Say good-bye without sweeping her into his arms, which ached to hold her. Say good-bye without admitting what he now knew was the truth—that he loved her madly, more than life itself.

He propped his elbow on the mantel and covered his eyes with his hand. Why, oh why, had he let her under his guard? She'd disarmed him when they'd first met. Charmed and seduced him as they'd traveled. And then she'd stayed with him after he'd been injured—was that when he'd stopped thinking of himself and started thinking only of her?

He didn't know when it had happened, but she was now a part of his heart. Yet Rurik's betrayal had proved that Nik's life was not his own and never would be.

If he did what he selfishly yearned to do—confess his love and sweep her off to Oxenburg—she would become a part of his mad, bitter, harsh world, one that glittered on the outside, while the inside was black and rotting with betrayals and secrets, manipulations and lies. To survive, she would have to build her own walls, protect herself from others, or her tender heart would be stomped to dust.

And in doing so, she would change, just as he had.
Dammit, I cannot allow that to happen.

He set his jaw. If it cost him his own happiness, then so be it. He couldn't allow her beautiful spirit to become destroyed by lies and treachery. God knew, they had already killed his.

I must do this for Ailsa.
There was no putting it off. He left the library and made his way to the blue salon, trying to fortify his courage with thoughts of how much safer she would be here, tucked away in her castle in the highlands, far from the pain and ugliness that had become his life.

“L
ady Ailsa, it has been a pleasure.” Lord Apraksin bowed over her hand.

Ailsa raised her brows. “Would you truly call it a pleasure?”

He laughed and covered her hand with his. “We can at least agree it was not boring.”

“Aye, that we can.”

He released her hand with a smile.

Ailsa forced her smile to stay in place, although as the moment approached for Nik to leave, she found it harder and harder. She loved him, and he knew it. She'd hoped for a short time her love meant something to him, but once they'd returned to Castle Leod, he'd done what he could to avoid her.

She didn't know what to think; all she knew was that she was miserable, as if her soul had been brutally ripped from her body. She wished with all her heart she had not so foolishly admitted the truth, but it was too late now. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Apraksin
, you
may not have found this visit boring, but it was for me,” Her Grace announced, thumping her cane for emphasis. “I came for some rest, not to be held at pistol point like a sheep waiting for slaughter.
Bozhy moj
, it took the lot of you a long time to rescue me.”

“Your Grace,” Lord Apraksin murmured, looking uncomfortable.

Ailsa managed a smile. The Grand Duchess Nikolaeva had returned to Castle Leod in excellent form. Despite her many complaints, she seemed invigorated following her ordeal, and had even suggested she'd eaten better while being held prisoner than she had at Castle Leod, a comment that had left Lady Edana huffing in fury.

“In fact,” Her Grace said loudly, “I'm bored right now and would sleep if you would all stop with this senseless chatter.”

Gregor, who'd been standing by the window watching the coaches line up, released the curtain and made his way back to their side of the room. His head was bandaged, one eye badly bruised, his nose swollen and cut. He moved slowly, still stiff and in pain. “Your Grace, if you must take a nap, then I will do so, too. After so much excitement, life in a genteel house is indeed quite dull.”

Lady Edana's smile grew even more taut and she looked as if, for a penny, she'd kick them all out of her drawing room. “Fortunately for Natasha, she will be able to sleep once she's in her coach, which will be
soon
.”

The duchess snorted. “With the state of the roads in Scotland? What do you people do, dig holes at night to discourage visitors?”

Ailsa had to laugh, which relieved her aching heart a tiny bit. “If I thought that would work, I might be disposed to do so.”

“At least
you're
honest.” The duchess used her cane to poke Lady Edana's slippered foot. “As for you, I owe you an apology. I'm sorry I stole Daffyd from you.”

Lady Edana laughed, though it was unnaturally shrill. “Oh, Daffyd and I were never— Really, you are mistaken if you think there was ever anything—”

“Not on his side, I'm sure. But yours?
Da
.”

Lady Edana's face couldn't be any more red. “You are mistaken,” she said icily. “Besides, I'm certain he and I will return to our usual footing once you've left.”

“Oh. About that. He is to meet me in Inverness and we will travel to Oxenburg together.”

“He . . . Is he?” Lady Edana's shoulders fell.


Da
. It will not last, of course, but it will be enjoyable for a while longer. You, meanwhile, will find another man.”

“I—I don't think that's—”

“But this time it must be someone younger. You do not look your age, so I do not know why you wish for an old man like Daffyd. He will do for me, but for you?
Nyet.
You need a younger man.”

Lady Edana's disappointed look disappeared behind a flush of pleasure. “Oh. Why I— That's quite kind of you. I do use the best creams and—” She simpered, and patted her hair. “Natasha, do you really think I need a younger man?”

“I know so. Find a younger man, but not too young, or you will be bored. The French have a guide: half your age plus seven years.”

“That's . . . Goodness, that's quite young.”

Her Grace patted Lady Edana's knee. “You will be able to handle it, I've no doubt.”

Lady Edana appeared quite taken with this idea, and Ailsa smiled to see her grandmother so cheered.

Apraksin cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the time has come.”

“Pah!” the duchess returned. “I do not look forward to this trip. So many holes in the roads. My arse will be black-and-blue by the time we reach Inverness.”

“Quite,” Apraksin said in a dry tone. He turned to Gregor and held out his hand. “My lord, I hope you will visit us in Oxenburg soon. The king would be delighted to meet the man who saved his son's life.”

Gregor flushed and shook the courtier's hand. “It's been a long, exciting few weeks and I need some rest before I think about traveling. As exciting as my adventure was, I fear you had the worst of it, having to stay here with nothing to do.”

“It was terrible. How I wish I'd been with you, eating hard bread and berries and sleeping on rocks.”

Gregor chuckled. “There were a lot of unpleasant moments between the exciting ones.”

“As with most adventures. I would have gone with you, but I, too, fell victim to Rurik's plot.” A shadow passed over the courtier's face. “He convinced both the prince and me that it would be best if I stayed behind.”

“He convinced a lot of people of a lot of things,” Ailsa said. “He was a guid liar.”

“I feel for his poor father,” Her Grace said sharply. “He will never forgive himself, I fear.” Her gaze went to the doorway. “Ah, there you are! I was beginning to think you'd lost the courage.”

“To say a simple good-bye?” Nik strolled in, his eyes so dark they seemed black. Dressed in a fitted coat that clung to his broad shoulders, his cravat perfectly tied,
his buff-colored breeches outlining his muscular legs, he was the picture of civility. Ailsa watched him hungrily, clenching her hands together to keep from reaching for him.

He went to Lady Edana and bowed over her hand. “I fear we must leave, my lady.”

Must? Or wish to?
Ailsa tried to swallow the lump of hurt that filled her throat.
Why won't he speak to me?

To be fair, she hadn't found the words, either. When she looked into his eyes, she could see the devastation caused by Rurik's actions. She had no idea how to ease that pain. He would have to find his own answers.

Which left her feeling achingly alone, especially when he was in the room, within touching distance.

He turned to Gregor. “You, I owe much.”

Gregor laughed, though it was a bit shaky. “I'm lucky I hit him at all. He shot me and then, for good measure, bashed me over the head with his pistol. When I woke up, I had a headache that was so blindingly painful, my hands shook.”

“I am lucky you have a hard head.”

Gregor laughed and, after a handshake, Nik crossed to Ailsa.

He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, aware that everyone watched.

Nik lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, his lips warm on her skin. “This is not an easy good-bye.”

Her skin burned where he touched it, and she ached for more. She wondered what she should say—what she could say. But she couldn't find the words.

She was left stating rather stiffly, “I hope we will see
one another soon.” As she spoke, she looked at him with every bit of the hope she felt, praying he would see it.

BOOK: Mad for the Plaid
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