Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (17 page)

Not that it mattered. But Barnabas’s voice did hold a trace of boasting, and it made her question why he would bother telling her this. Was he trying to gain her attention?

The second course arrived, and the footman served them roasted pheasant and creamed spinach. There was also warm bread and butter. When she glanced over at Cain, he was staring at his pheasant as if wondering how to eat it. He studied the cutlery for a moment before he met her gaze. He shot her a wicked smile, then picked up the fowl with his hands and bit into it.

Margaret wanted to groan. Mr. Barnabas eyed Sinclair as if he were a barbarian. But she strongly suspected that Cain was playing his own game. He knew he ought not to use his hands with the food. She nudged his foot beneath the table, and he responded by touching his foot to her calf.

When he ignored her silent command to use better manners, she asked, “Was there something the matter with your fork and knife, Cousin Cain?”

“Aye.” He picked another piece of pheasant off the bones and demolished it. “ ’Twas an inconvenience.”

“Please forgive my cousin’s manners,” Margaret apologized. “He has been living in the Highlands recently, and I fear he’s falling back on bad habits.”

But Cain only smiled and wiped his hands upon the tablecloth. Margaret winced and took a sip of the wine.
Look at who I am,
his eyes seemed to say.
I willna change the man I am. No’ even for you.

She sobered, tracing the stem of her wineglass. He was doing this on purpose, to remind her that he wasn’t a man who followed any rules but his own.

“This is some of the best food we’ve had since the accident,” Margaret told Mr. Barnabas, by way of changing the subject. “I am grateful for the meal.”

She enjoyed every bite, savoring the delicious flavors. The pheasant was rich with a red wine sauce, and she ate slowly to enjoy the food. Mr. Barnabas was telling her more about his family and the estate, but Margaret was hardly listening. Her attention was caught by Sinclair, who was staring at her. For a moment, she couldn’t think why, until she realized he was mimicking her table manners, buttering a small piece of bread with the correct knife. There was a covert smile upon his mouth.

He was indeed mocking her, there was no doubt. A man like Sinclair cared nothing for fine manners, and likely he was proving to her that he could behave himself when he wanted to. Had he ever dined at a table as fine as this one? Would he know how to manage the different pieces of silver or whether to let the footman serve him at table? But he seemed to adapt easily, making her wonder how she’d misjudged him.

“I wasn’t aware that Lord Lanfordshire had a Scottish cousin,” Mr. Barnabas began. “Or is it on Lady Lanfordshire’s side?”

“We’re distant cousins,” Cain remarked. “My family lived in Edinburgh for a time.”

Though Margaret knew it was a lie, there was no trace of untruth in Sinclair’s voice. He spoke about the city, talking about it as if he’d been there before. He might have, for all she knew. But she found herself entranced by the lilt in his voice, while he described the clouded skies and how Edinburgh Castle stood above the rest of the city atop a hill.

“And where were you escorting Miss Andrews?” Mr. Barnabas inquired. “Back to London?”

Cain shook his head. “She has asked me to take her to Ballaloch, her father’s estate in the western Highlands.” The warning look in his eyes asked her not to argue. It wasn’t as if she had a choice, anyhow. They both knew she could not travel on her own.

“That’s quite a long distance for you,” Mr. Barnabas remarked. “It might be easier to take her to your family in Edinburgh than to travel so far north.”

“I’ll be visiting my cousin Beatrice whilst I am there,” Cain countered, with a mocking smile. “It’s no trouble at all.” He folded his hands across the table. “Thank you for the food, Mr. Barnabas. ’Twas quite good.”

“I’ll admit I am pleased that our paths crossed this night,” Mr. Barnabas said. “And now that the weather is turning, I imagine you will both be glad to have shelter.”

Actually, Margaret was most looking forward to clean sheets and a bed, but she nodded, suppressing a yawn. Then, too, it would be strange having a private room after she’d spent all of her nights with Cain. She’d grown accustomed to having him near, and his presence comforted her.

“I will have a maid escort you to one of the rooms, Miss Andrews,” Mr. Barnabas said. “And in the morning, I look forward to having the pleasure of your company.” To Cain, he added, “If you don’t mind, I should like to speak with you a little more, Mr. Sinclair. We can discuss your forthcoming journey.”

“As you like. But I’ll be wanting a room close to my cousin’s,” he insisted. “For her safety.”

“You will be a few doors away from her,” Mr. Barnabas promised. “Now, I shall bid you a good night, Miss Andrews.”

Margaret started to follow the maid but was surprised when Cain shadowed her. He glanced back at Mr. Barnabas. “I’ll return, as soon as I see her to her room.”

It wasn’t entirely proper to leave their host like that, but she knew Cain would only cause a greater scene if she refused. They had nearly reached the stairs when he leaned in. “Don’t be getting too comfortable here, lass. I saw the way he was watching you.”

“Whether or not he was watching doesn’t matter a whit. We’re leaving in the morning.”

He walked beside her, taking her hand in his. “Aye. But I don’t believe he’ll lend us a coach. You, perhaps, but no’ me.”

“After the way you ravaged your food with your hands, I shouldn’t wonder.”

His hand tightened over hers. “I only behaved as he thought I would, lass. There’s something I’m no’ liking about this man, and I want no help from him. We’ll go on as we have.”

Margaret freed her hand from his. “But we
need
his help, Sinclair. Aren’t you weary of traveling on horseback?”

“I’ve done it many a time, lass.”

“I’m not accustomed to such travel,” she admitted. “And I would be grateful for another means of getting there.” She stopped at the top of the stairs. “And whether or not you believe it, I think we should accept Mr. Barnabas’s offer.”

When the maid turned around, her expression was unreadable “Here is your room,” she told Margaret, opening the door.

To Cain, the maid added, “I’ll show you to your own place, after the master has spoken with you.” She walked a short distance to the landing and waited.

Margaret stepped inside and saw that the bed was turned back and a fire glowed on the hearth. Right now, she wanted to drop into bed, snuggling beneath the coverlet until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

“Rest well, lass,” Cain said. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

She stole another look at him, and in his deep blue eyes, she saw the look of a man who would never let anything happen to her.

BALLALOCH, SCOTLAND

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER

Margaret walked through the glen, her skirts brushing the edges of the damp grass. The sky was dreary, like an old woman who couldn’t be bothered to smile. But it did nothing to discolor her spirits, for she was enjoying the time alone, with no one to tell her what to do. Over one arm she held a basket filled with bread for the crofters. Many were struggling to feed their families after the Earl of Strathland had increased their rents.

Behind her, a voice called, “Wait! I’m coming with you!”

She repressed the urge to sigh when she saw her youngest sister hurrying forward. Amelia was only thirteen, but she fully believed that she ought to have the same freedom as her older sisters.

A prickle of anger nudged at her, but Margaret forced it back. “It’s going to rain. Are you certain you want to go?”

“And miss the chance to leave the house and hear all the village gossip?” Amelia adjusted her own basket and sent Margaret a big smile. “I cannot wait.”

“What about Toria and Juliette?”

“Toria won’t go, you know that. There’s no reason to even ask.”

Amelia’s proclamation saddened her, for their oldest sister had not set foot outside the house since their arrival in Scotland three years ago. Victoria was terrified of the outdoors and all their efforts to help her had been in vain.

“As for Juliette?” Amelia linked her arm in Margaret’s. “
She
is having a love affair with Paul Fraser.” Her eyes widened with the thrill of a delicious secret. “I saw the letter she was writing.”

“You aren’t supposed to read other people’s letters,” Margaret reminded her. “It’s rude and meddling.”

“It’s how I stay informed,” Amelia said, not one bit repentant. “
I
,
for one, think they should run away together. Juliette’s seventeen. That’s old enough, isn’t it?”

Good Lord.
Margaret shook her head and rolled her eyes. “She’s far too young to marry.”

“Mother was only a little older than that when she wed Father. And besides, Juliette loves Paul. Paul loves her. They’re perfect together.”

Amelia went on to list all the reasons why the two of them ought to elope, but Margaret heard none of it. For she understood why Juliette kept her letters a secret. All of them knew the truth—that their own family was struggling. With Father at war and Mother trying to pay the bills with money they didn’t have . . . their only hope was to wed titled, wealthy gentlemen.

And considering that there was no money for them to have a Season, that hope was dwindling.

The burden fell upon Margaret’s shoulders, to wed a lord with money. If she did, she could save her mother and sisters from the threat of poverty. It didn’t matter whether she loved the man or not. She had the training to be an appropriate wife, and surely good manners and breeding were worth something.

Before they reached the crofters’ homes on the Earl of Strathland’s property, a rider approached them. Margaret shielded her eyes and saw that it was Lord Strathland himself.

“Give me your basket,” Amelia said. “I’ll go and deliver the food.” Before Margaret could tell her no, her sister had snatched the basket and hurried over to the first house. It seemed that Amelia had no desire to speak with the earl and had seized the first opportunity to escape.

Of course. She should have known Amelia would do something like this. With a sigh, Margaret waited politely until Lord Strathland reached her side. He was an older man, a widower only a little younger than their father. He wasn’t particularly tall, and his brown eyes sometimes held a hard edge. The earl was a man who expected obedience and usually got it.

But today, he smiled at her. He dismounted and tipped his hat. “Good morning, Miss Andrews.”

“Good morning.” Margaret returned a strained smile, wondering what it was he wanted. Though she ought to be kinder to him, the man made her feel uneasy. He might be wealthy and have a title, but she didn’t like the way he treated his tenants. Raising their rents when the people were barely able to feed their children was not the mark of a charitable man. He didn’t seem to care that her family was offering food and supplies to the crofters while they could barely pay their own expenses.

“I know we’ve been introduced before,” he said, “but this is the first time I’ve had a moment to speak with you.”

She didn’t believe that at all. He could have come to call on her at any time, and she wondered what had provoked his sudden interest. “What was it you wanted to say?”

“Only that I find you quite lovely. And I wondered if you and your family might enjoy attending a supper party at my home.”

Logic reminded her that he
was
a wealthy earl, exactly the sort of man whom she should appreciate. And yet, the thought was abhorrent to her. He might be affluent, but his money had come from depriving his tenants.

No, she didn’t want a miser for a husband. And yet, her upbringing prevented her from responding truthfully. “You’ll have to speak with my mother, Lord Strathland.”

He nodded, but it didn’t seem that her answer had satisfied him. “What of your wishes?” he asked softly. “Would you enjoy spending more time in my company?”

No, no, and once again, no.

But she dug deeply for an appropriate response. “I don’t know what to say, my lord.” And wasn’t that the truth?

“Think upon it, Miss Andrews.” He reached for her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. “I should enjoy seeing you and your sisters again.”

I’m certain you would
. Now she wished she had followed Amelia’s example and fled. “Good day to you, Lord Strathland.”

After he’d left, she started to walk toward the house where Amelia had disappeared, but her sister was already returning. Cain Sinclair strode alongside her, and it was clear that he’d seen Lord Strathland kissing her hand.

Something about the intense expression on his face made her pulse quicken. She tried to steady herself, but a blush rose to her cheeks.

“Is Lord Strathland finished with his conversation?” Amelia whispered loudly, staring back at the departing earl.

“Yes, he is.” Margaret tried to behave as if nothing were amiss, but her wayward heart was beating all too fast.

“Thank goodness. When I saw him, I thought I should fetch Mr. Sinclair,” Amelia explained. “I knew
he
could defend us.”