Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance) (15 page)

He smiled one of those thin-lipped, awful smiles.
“Don’t pretend ignorance. I know your tastes. If this were a castle, and you
were a man, you’d be the master of spies, wouldn’t you? The way your eyes move
around and drink in details and the way you are always thinking. There’s intelligence
behind your eyes that cannot be hidden. Not from me, anyway. I recognize it
because I share it with you. I have the same thirst for knowledge.”

Kenna quirked one of her eyebrows, and the mayor
took the meaning.

“I’ll be clear. I know you listened more closely
to the meeting with the East India Company men than you let on, and I know that
since there aren’t any of my roses in your chambers, you were just playing at
picking them to listen to what myself and your old nemesis were talking about.”

He smiled the same even, haunting smile that he’d
shown for so much of their time together. “What do you want to know? What is it
you aim to do here, Miss Moore?” He took another bite, a hunk of grey meat and
a little bit of limp squash, or maybe it was a turnip. The color of the stuff
on his fork very nearly matched his eyes.

“Well to be perfectly honest, when we got here my
aim was to stay the night and be on my way. The plan was to be in Fort Mary by
now and sleeping in my parents’ house waiting for my wedding to the most
wonderful man I’ve ever known.” As she spoke, Kenna felt hear heart flutter.
Just the thought of Gavin and his sweet smile, his easy, gentle eyes and that
long, wavy, brown hair was enough to make her feel a little less nervous. “But
when I heard about the taxes and about the plantation, I couldna just let it
lie.”

“Plantation?” The word, the question, hung in the
air like a sharpened iron hook. “And what plantation would this be?”

“The one you’re building,” Kenna said before she
could stop herself. “At least, that’s what I’ve gathered you’re building with
the land you’re clear cutting. Er, Councillor.”

He laughed at her formal addendum. “Is that what
they say? The townspeople – is that what they think?”

“Aye,” Kenna said, not knowing what else to do.
“They say that you’re taxing them to drive them out of business, and then they
expect you’ll force them to work-”

“This is quite a plan. In fact, it’s such a
devious one that I wish it were real. But thank you, Kenna. I see that my
behavior has planted a deal of doubt in the minds of the people. The reality is
nothing so interesting as that. The reality – do you wish to hear it?”

“Y – yes of course, Councillor.”

“Right. To be direct, I’ve got to get away from
here. I can’t stay. You know about my daughter, about the brigands, and if I’m
being honest, I don’t think this little burg has anywhere to go but back to the
land. The soil isn’t very good, the people are...slothful and indolent. I just
don’t see the use in staying.”

“And so you’re planning to leave? It all makes
sense, the Company men here, you selling them lumber for ships, and-”

“I should say that
was
my plan until an old
acquaintance gave me another idea. Leaving just isn’t in the cards, as they
say. Overseas investment, however, is just wise. But no, I’ll be staying for
the foreseeable future.” He leaned forward almost menacingly, his fingers
curling against the table top, scratching gently on the wood. “I am, however,
buying a deal of land in the Caribbean to act as an investment. That’s what all
this is, an investment.”

Kenna’s gaze fixed on Willard’s nose. The tip went
up and down as he spoke. “Investment? I thought this was just a ploy to use the
land around here as a tree farm for the Company. Is my thinking wrong?”

“Oh yes, quite,” Willard smiled. “I have been
buying up land all around here partially for what you say. The Company
is
buying
a great deal of wood from me for ships. But that’s not all. After all – why
would I burn the grass if I was just cutting wood?”

“Aye, the thought had occurred to me.”

“One can only chop wood one time. However, cleared
land is valuable forever. Especially if you use it to store things. Do you
follow?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” Kenna said as Rollo
reappeared and dropped her notebook on the table. The pencil, she noticed, was
missing, as well as about half the pages. If she could have jumped up and
kissed him on the mouth, she would have.

Willard rubbed his hands together absently. “I
intend to create a small shipping business. Earlier, you mentioned my building
a plantation. That is an extravagance I don’t have the resources for. Yet. I’m
buying a sugar refinery in Jamaica. Once that’s done, I plan to erect a
manufacturing and storage facility here. Does it become more clear?”

He stood and put his fingers on the top of the
table, resting his weight on them. “I refine the product in the islands, then
ship it here, where it sits until I have a buyer.”

“Circumventing the need for the Company at all,”
Kenna said with a vacant tone.

“Exactly. And, the shipping will all be done on a
ship the Company paid me to build in the first place, so I’ll get a portion of
whatever they deliver elsewhere, per the agreement we made.”

“Sir, I’ve found Miss Kenna’s book. Is there
anything else I can do for you?” Rollo cut in when Willard paused.

“No, I think not. We’re finished here though, so
you can summon the help to clear the table.”

“Certainly sir, would you like tea?”

“Yes, please,” the mayor said as he stood. “We’ll
take it in the gardens.”

––––––––

“T
here are things about me that you’ll need to come
to understand, Kenna,” Willard said, crossing his arms behind his back and
holding an elbow in each hand. He stopped in his tracks, and she did the same.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Councillor. I
know how hard things have been for you with living here and all that since the
tragedy with your daughter, so please dinna think I blame you for mourning. But
the people in the town, and, if you’ll recall that fellow from the day I saw
you in court, who was quite upset, what I’m saying rings true in his case as
well.”

“Speak your mind, woman,” he said. “I grow tired
of this conversation.”

Kenna swallowed and pursed her lips. “Is there
some hurry, sir?”

“It would hardly be proper not to tell you, since
you’re involved, I suppose. I did want to keep it a secret though, at least
until tomorrow. I’d hate for you to faint, though. You know tomorrow is the
festival day – or the beginning of two of them, yes?”

“Aye, I do,” she said. “The whole town’s tittering
with talk of it.”

“As they always are, of course. And by the way,
for all the complaints you’ve apparently heard since your arrival, have any of
them ever stated who pays for the festival? All the beer and the whisky these
sots drink? All the food they eat?”

“I assumed it was a town effort, where everyone
brings some things and the people all share?”

Willard shook with laughter. “No, beautiful Miss
Moore, I think not. It comes from my pocket.”

Kenna wanted to say ‘though it all
does
come from theirs in the first place, does it not?’ but refused herself the
indulgence. Instead, she said, “I’m quite looking forward to it. Assuming your
surprise doesn’t keep me from going?”

“Oh no, no, of course not. I think I’d truly be as
awful a villain as you believe me to be if I were to refuse you the right to be
at the festival celebrating your own marriage. Impending marriage, I suppose is
more accurate.”

“Mayor? My marriage? I thought you were keeping me
away
from Gavin by having me kept here and not at the inn with the rest
of them. To dedicate an entire festival to my wedding is simply unexpected. I
canna thank you enough – and at the same time, I’m petrified with embarrassment
at some of the things I’ve said.”

“Oh that’s quite alright. How were you to know?
And it’s true, what they say, though I doubt the validity of the townspeople’s
incessant complaining. I have raised the taxes, and so on, of late. But I think
I’d be equally remiss if I didn’t qualify and clarify, what I’ve just said.”

“Of course, though I thought it was perfectly
clear what you said. I’m just a bit shocked that you’re doing this for me.”

“I’m doing one better than you think. And
remember, you can give all the credit for this brilliant idea to someone you’d
probably rather not think about too much, given his foul habits and fouler
mouth.”

“The sheriff, you mean? He dreamt up this
kindness?”

“Yes, indeed he did. He reminded me that in the
worst of times, the Roman emperors could subvert any sort of general unrest
that could pop up – disease, plague, famine – with a simple celebration.
Normally they were trumped up, many times they were cruel and blood soaked, but
nothing was ever quite so popular amongst the common people as a wedding.”

“Ach, well, I canna thank you enough for-”

“No, Kenna,” he said turning to her and snatching
one of her hands. “I can’t thank
you
enough. What a wonderful
opportunity you’ve afforded me. Me and the people of this town. And it’s for
them that truly I do this.”

Something about his smile gnawed at Kenna’s soul.
All she could do was meekly ask if Gavin was going to be extended an
invitation. When she asked, a haunting smile crept across Willard’s face.

“Oh yes, dear, he has been. Rollo delivered the
invitation already. He reported that the lot of your friends seemed quite
excited, though Gavin was a little combative even before he read the note. But
Kenna, that’s what I need to clarify.”

“You haven’t done anything to him, have you?” Her
hands shook as she tried to pull away from Willard, but found herself held
fast.

“Not at all,” he chuckled. “But it’s not him
you’ll be marrying. It’ll be someone much more worthy of your beauty, your intelligence
and your charm?”

Trembling hands turned to involuntarily chattering
teeth. Once again she opened her mouth and found no words.

“We’ll be celebrating
our
marriage, Kenna
dear.”

Kenna’s jaw was the first thing that hit the
ground. The rest of her went quickly after. “Rollo! Please, come move my
fiancée to her chambers. She seems to have caught a chill and fallen over.” The
mayor stepped over the unconscious woman lying at his feet and looked up to the
second floor of his estate, and to a window that was lit and open.

“That went well,” Alan shouted as he came into
view and immediately spat out of the window. “But I’m warning you, don’t
underestimate that band of ruffians. They’ll make more problems than you can
imagine.”

Without responding, Willard squeezed his hands.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The instant we see them, you’re
going to arrest them. That’s what you do, isn’t it, sheriff? Arrest people?”

“With pleasure,” Alan said, unleashing another
stream onto the ground below. “With pleasure, mayor.”

M
ornay’s Cleft
Inn

August 19, Early Morning

––––––––

“W
hat on God’s green earth do you have me wearing?”
Gavin said, wrenching himself to help Olga shove him into a complex series of
twisted clothing. “I’ve never seen such a costume before. I thought we’d just
be wearing hoods. I didn’t expect a full complement of leather armor. And
anyway, won’t we stand out even more if we’re in intricate costumes?”

“Mister Gavin,” she clicked her teeth as she spoke
and yanked his arm. “We must make sure you’re all well-disguised. As I
understand it, costumes are a tradition for the festival, though yours needs to
be a bit more intricate to keep you hidden. Just be glad you’re not Rodrigo.
He’s got the worst of it, and he’s been getting worked over for hours. Elena
insisted he be ready early.”

“When can I see what sort of humiliation you’ve
done to me?”

“You’ll know what you’re dressed as. You remember
the rules, Mister Gavin. No outlawed plaid and no poking fun at the mayor. Past
that, we’ve got all the freedom in the world to make you all up so that no one will
recognize you.”

“If you expect to fool either Kenna or the
sheriff, it’ll be quite a job,” he added. “Rather important that he not know
who we are.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, putting a brush in her
teeth and beginning to mumble around it as she put some sort of paste on
Gavin’s forehead that she explained would keep the hood in place.

“So there
is
a hood, then?” He couldn’t
help but smile and think of just how much he’d warmed up to Olga since they
met.  “I can’t...I can’t stop thinking about her, Olga. About Kenna, I mean.”

She smiled her broad smile. “I didn’t imagine you
meant anyone else. You’re good at hiding, you know? Everything will be fine.
There are only so many ways to worry about a person before you start going
crazy.”

“I know. I just can’t stop thinking about how much
has changed in such a short time. Just think, a fortnight ago we were in
Edinburgh, you and Kenna and Elena were getting ready for a dinner party, and I
hadn’t even a clue that my beloved was in town, only a few miles from where I
was.”

Olga smiled, patted him on the shoulder. “You
know, I think it isn’t surprising. How fast everything happened, I mean.”

“Aye?”

“Mhm. It is what was always meant to be, so when
you saw her, things simply fell into place. Don’t you believe in fate?”

“No. Well, I should say I didn’t. Not before I saw
Kenna and couldn’t take my eyes off her and then spent the next three nights
dreaming about her. Now, I’m not so sure what it is I believe.”

“To me,” Olga said with a smile in her voice,
“that sounds like fate.”

––––––––

“O
w! Watch what you’re doing! And why in the Hell
are you pulling my hair so hard? Ow!” John had his shoulders pinched up so
tightly that he was beginning to get a cramp as Lynne cheerfully brushed out,
then yanked, and then braided another handful of his hair. The whole time, she
was whistling.

Suddenly, John began to hate whistling.

“Stop,” he said. “I canna take anymore!”

“Anymore of what, dear?” Lynne whistled louder,
tugged on his hair, and giggled when he screeched. “Why do you keep shouting so
loudly? You’d think someone was pulling your hair and tying it into knots.”

“You are!”

“Oh, well then. Would you look at that! Be quiet,
I’m almost done, and then...”

“And then what? You’re going to make love to me
and I’ll forget all about the agony you’ve caused?”

“Goodness no, John! And muss up all this beautiful
costuming. No, what I was going to say was that as soon as your hair is
finished, it’ll be time to paint you all up in the woad.”

John took a deep breath through his nose and blew
it out at a slow, measured pace. “Woad? You think I’m going to let you paint me
blue?”

“Ach! What sort of an ancient Celtic warrior would
fight the Roman legions and not be painted in the woad?”

Another heavy sigh made her laugh ever harder.
“You’re lucky I’m letting you wear clothes.”

“I am, eh? I think instead that you’re lucky I’m
letting
you
wear clothes!” He reached over, pulled her onto his lap and started
tugging at her clothes as though to disrobe her, which got her squealing with
laughter as loud as his carrying on had been.

“Ach! Goodness aren’t you a vile creature!” She stood,
straightened her clothes, cleared her throat and pretended to regain her
dignity, “Yes you’re lucky I’m letting you go in this costume plaid instead
waggling in the wind. I’m sure you’re glad Duggan found this old thing. Said
you’re allowed to wear it as long as it’s not Mornay tartan. That’s the second
luckiest thing you’ve had happen.”

“What’s the first?”

“Your finding me. Obviously.”

John groaned out loud, but even as he did, pulled
Lynne back onto his lap. “How long until we have to leave?”

“Does it matter?”

“Aye, it does,” John said, kissing her on the back
of the neck as she twisted away. “How long?”

“I meant only that it wouldn’t matter. Four
minutes would be plenty.” She whispered in his ear with her most seductive,
husky voice. A moment later, John stood up, grabbed Lynne around the waist and
tossed her backwards to the bed.

He hopped up, face against hers, and pushed her
lips apart, and quickly explored her with his tongue. Lynne’s eyes fell closed.
She wrapped her arms around him, and flattened her palms against the warmth of
his back. Softly, she gasped as he moved against her, warmth creeping up her
belly to her neck.

“Promise me one thing, John,” she said as the
breath hitched in her throat.

“Aye?”

“Stay as predictable as you are right now.”

A short laugh burst out of her, but John smothered
it with another kiss, then another.

––––––––

“W
hat is it you suppose those two are doing?”

“You know them, most likely having a go at one
another. Remember those days?” Elena asked him as she adjusted his very old,
and very fancy, frock-coat and tugged his laced sleeves out of the vest.

“Remember them?”

“We weren’t always so sedate, Rodrigo.”

He took Elena’s hand and held it in his, pressed
his lips first to her palm, then to her wrist. “I only replied as I did because
I don’t think we’re so sedate at all.” He made his way to her inner elbow with
a trail of soft, brushing kisses.

“Rodrigo, Rodrigo.” She smiled warmly putting a
hand on either side of her husband’s face. “If it weren’t for my having known
you for all these years, I would swear you were trying to seduce me.”

He grunted a laugh. “Isn’t it knowing me for all
those years what makes you able to be sure?”

After they were still for a moment, and Elena had
tied Rodrigo’s short ponytail up with a ribbon, just as it would have been done
on the Continent.

“Rod, I...I want you to be careful while you fence.
I keep thinking that something bad will happen.”

“Nonsense, dear. These people, the Scots, as much
as I love them, they’re not a fencing people. They’re used to big weapons that
can crush a man. Or little ones that go between his ribs. I have been using
this,” he slid his long, ornately carved rapier from the leather scabbard and
ran his finger along the flat of the blade, “since I was young enough to stand.
I direct it like most men direct their arms to point. You know this. And
anyway, the contest won’t be done bare. Unless this is a truly barbaric place,
the contestants will have armor sufficient to turn the tip of a rapier. We
might even be forced to fight using blunted weapons.”

“I know, but I just can’t stop thinking about it.
Please, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course dear, of course. If I thought there was
any danger that I’d be hurt, I’d take...extra precautions. Everything will be
fine.” Rodrigo stood, inspected himself in the long mirror in front of him and
nodded in appreciation. Then with the next breath, he pulled his wife to his
chest, kissed her gently on the forehead, and cradled her in his arms.

––––––––

“A
re you alright? You took quite a spill there.”
Rollo dabbed a cool cloth over Kenna’s forehead. As she awoke in her chambers,
his kind eyes studied her face. “Oh good, you’re awake. For a moment there I
thought you’d hit your head when you fell.”

“I...no, I...suppose I just fainted is all. I’m
sorry for causing all this trouble.” Kenna opened her eyes wide, squeezed them
shut for a moment and then looked at Rollo. “This is actually happening, isn’t
it? I’ve stumbled into the same place that I escaped from. Bound to some noble.
God above, how could I be so foolish?”

For a long moment, Rollo said nothing. “I admit
that he’s confusing me. At least a little. I didn’t expect any of this. My
intent was to come in here, assist you, and tell you that it must be the
sheriff getting into his head. He’s waiting outside as well.”

“The sheriff? No, no, I canna handle him, not
right now.”

Rollo shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I meant
Mayor Willard. He’s concerned after you. In his fashion. He wished to be
alerted as soon as you had-”

The chamber door opened and Willard entered the
room. The features on his angular face were ashen and grey. With a wave of his
hand, he dismissed Rollo who gave Kenna one final apologetic look before bowing
out.

How have I done this to myself? If only I’d not
stayed. What good am I doing anyway? The people of this town have lived with
him for years, and someday he’ll die and they’ll have another mayor take his
place. They’ll either pay their taxes or they won’t. And now, here I am, stuck
here.
Kenna’s thoughts made her stomach turn almost as much as the man
looming above her. She knew they were wrong, knew there was nothing to them.
The people in this town needed her help, her and Gavin’s, but still, the
thought that if she’d just kept on riding, she wouldn’t be staring at this
face, it dug into her.

“You look so worried, dear Kenna,” Willard said as
he sat on the bed and intertwined his long, red fingers. “We were certainly
worried when you fainted. Is everything right with you?”

Kenna opened her mouth to speak, and then bit her
lip.
No, you awful beast! Of course it isn’t! You’ve taken me from my love
and put me in a place I’d never wish upon my worst enemy, and then ask me if
everything is fine.

“May I...speak openly, Councillor?”

“Of course. And please – call me Steven, or
Willard if you must maintain formality. No more of this Councillor business.”

“Yes...Willard,” the word tasted like ash in her
mouth. No way in this life or any other was she going to use any name more
familiar. “If I’m to be honest, I’m a bit afraid. You see, I only just left
Ramsay Macdonald, I’m in love with someone else, and I feel that...well, if I
were to marry you, I’d still carry feelings for him, and that wouldn’t be right
to you
or
me.”

“Hmm.” Willard stood. Never untwining his fingers,
the mayor took a step forward, away from the bed, then turned and faced Kenna
where she lay. “I see. But I’m afraid there’s something you’re not
considering.”

“Aye?”

“Your fiancé, milady, is a criminal. A
criminal
.
And so are the people who are staying with him at Duggan’s inn. Most of them
anyway. The sheriff, you know, he told me about everyone. I’d heard vague word
of the Ghost of Edinburgh before, of course, but didn’t realize that’s who our
town’s honored guest was.”

“A criminal?” Kenna’s face flushed with heat. “How
can you say that? What sort of wrong has he done that wasn’t for a greater
good?”

Willard smiled a creeping, haunting smile that put
chills down Kenna’s back. Before, he’d made her uncomfortable. Now, he seemed a
wraith ready to strike. He took a long, slow, deep breath. “So you do not deny
his crimes?”

Twice Kenna opened her mouth and closed it before
finally speaking. “No, I do not deny that he stole ill-gotten goods and coin
from people who stole them in the first place.”

“Bold words,” Willard said. “Especially for
someone who is complicit in his crimes. Or perhaps that’s
why
you’re so
bold.”

Kenna’s squinted as she stared at him, trying to
read his emotions. “No...what? Of what do you speak? I’ve done nothing.”

“You didn’t turn him in, did you? You ran away
with him, yes? Broke him out of jail?”

“Councillor...Willard, I
love
him. I have
since I was a child, why are you doing this?”

In a motion so fluid and agile that Kenna hardly
saw him move, Willard took Kenna’s face between his hands. “What is so hard to
understand, you foolish girl? I’m saving you. You should be
thanking me
for what I’m doing. And yet, here you lie, acting as though I’ve done something
awful.”

“You can’t make me love you,” Kenna said. “You can
do whatever you want with me, but I’ll never love you. Why me, anyway? What is
it that you want from me?”

Why bother keeping my tongue? He canna do
anything worse than he already is.

“I don’t need you to love me. At least not at
first. As to your question, it’s hard for me to say this, but you remind me of
my daughter. She had a look to her – a kindness, an intelligence, a spark in
her eyes – that I see in you. And when I think of you cavorting with those
thieves, those ingrates, I...” Willard ran his thumbs down Kenna’s face. His
eyes took on a distant, longing glassiness. “She’s gone, but you’re not. You’ve
too good a soul for this. I won’t let it happen.”

Willard tilted his head just a bit to the side and
smiled. “You truly are an innocent creature, are you not? Truly, you do not see
what your lover does?”