Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (2 page)

She stared at each of the men until at last she located Sinclair. He didn’t move, but his mouth tightened when she stepped closer. Her presence was as out of place as a pig in a ballroom, and every male eye fastened upon her.

Her conscience was still screeching at the idea.
Get out of here! Ladies do not associate with men at an inn. You cannot be here.

Cain Sinclair’s icy blue eyes regarded her as if she’d lost her mind. And perhaps she had, since she’d gone to such lengths to seek his help.

“You don’t belong here, lass,” he said.

“Amelia’s been taken by Lord Lisford. You have to help me find her.” Margaret crossed her arms, staring coolly at a drunkard whose attention was fixed upon her bosom.

How did you think these men would react to your presence?
her common sense chided.
They’re nothing but rogues and vagrants. Any one of them would attack you, and then where would you be?

The Highlander leaned back in his chair, his long black hair falling past his shoulders. He wore a brown-and-green kilt and a brown coat that revealed white shirt sleeves rolled against his forearms. A matching length of plaid was draped across the shirt, fastened at the shoulder with an iron brooch. At his waist, he wore a leather sporran. A faint scar edged his lower arm, a reminder that he’d been in many fights. Somehow, it made her feel safer, knowing that Sinclair could protect her far better than the elderly footman who had accompanied her.

“Come with me, and I’ll tell you more about what happened,” Margaret urged. The sooner she left this place, the better she would feel. The question was whether or not he would help her.

“Do your parents know?” he asked softly.

She shrugged. “I didn’t tell them. I want to find Amelia before any harm is done.”

They would find out soon enough. But more than that, she felt a sense of responsibility.
She
was supposed to have chaperoned Amelia at the ball. If she’d remained at her sister’s side at every moment, this wouldn’t have happened.

Her guilt was a hair shirt against her conscience. This was her fault, without question. And she had to atone for it, no matter the cost to her own reputation.

Sinclair took a slow drink of his ale, studying her. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but he needed to hurry up.

“Why did you come to me, lass, instead of the police?” His lazy tone held a hint of wickedness, and she faltered.

“Because I—”

Because I know you’ll find her. I know you won’t let any harm come to her, and I trust you more than any man.

She drew closer and reached for his hand. It felt as if she’d thrown out every shred of decent behavior. A wildness thrummed in her blood as her fingers laced in his.

“Because I need your help,” she whispered.

His thumb brushed the edge of her palm in a silent caress that echoed deep inside. His rough hands were callused, but his touch was light enough to set her senses on fire. What did that say about her, that she would be so attracted to a man so inappropriate?

She was a good girl. She obeyed the rules, listened to her parents, and never wore a gown with a daring neckline. All her life, she’d been a model of proper behavior.

And yet, right now, she realized that she was asking this man to come with her. To be alone with her in a coach for hours on end.

Don’t do this,
her sense of propriety begged.
You cannot behave in this way. It’s not right.

But she met his gaze steadily and said, “Please.”

There were a thousand reasons why he should tell her no. Cain Sinclair knew that Margaret wasn’t thinking clearly. She was upset and angry that her sister had been taken by Lisford. Her pleas had naught to do with common sense, and they were born of desperation.

“I’m no’ the man who can help you, lass,” he said, keeping his voice low. She was the daughter of a baron, while he was the son of nobody. Even now, she wore a ball gown that cost more than his income for a year.

Once, he’d been foolish enough to believe that he could reach above his station to a woman like her. Beautiful and full of grace, Margaret held enough spirit to challenge him. Every time she lifted that chin of hers, it made him want to loosen up her good-girl manners to find the woman underneath it all. “You don’t ken what you’re asking of me.”

“I know precisely what I’m asking of you.” She regarded him as if she were the Queen of England and chose a seat across from him. “I want you to find my sister. Lord Lisford is trying to compromise her and force her into marriage. Use your knowledge of the roads leading toward Gretna Green. You’ll take me with you, and we’ll find Amelia before that man can ruin her.”

He couldn’t believe she was serious. “You’re wanting to take a long journey with me, all the way to Scotland?” he said slowly. “Do you no’ realize how far that is?” It would take at least a week, if not a fortnight, depending on the condition of the roads.

“We’ll find her long before that,” she said. “I believe it.”

“And you don’t care what others will say about this?” he asked, gentling his voice. “ ’Twill harm your own good name, lass.”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “For one, I’m already ruined. After five Seasons, I believe it’s clear that no one wants to marry me. Aside from a few men whom I would never consider marrying.” She stiffened as if she didn’t want to think of it. “Therefore, I am little more than a spinster. Moreover, this is about Amelia, not me.”

He touched her fingers again, disbelieving what she’d said. She was speaking as if all her prospects were ruined. “You don’t have to go yourself,” he insisted. “Your father could alert the authorities.”

“And then everyone would know what Lisford did to her. Amelia would be forced to wed him, even if they rescued her.” Margaret shook her head. “No one must know of this. We have to find her quickly, before anyone discovers the truth.”

He steepled his hands together. “But why do
you
want to go?” There was no reason for it. She would only get herself into trouble, dragging him with her.

She hesitated before answering the question. “I promise you, I won’t get in the way. I just . . . need to see that she’s all right. It was my fault she was taken. I should have watched more carefully.”

Before he could refuse again, she leaned in. “You would do the same for your brother.”

And there, she had played her trump card. She knew him too well. The shadow of guilt crossed over him, for he hadn’t taken care of his younger brother as well as he’d wanted to. He’d spent the last few years fighting to keep Jonah out of trouble.

“I’ll pay you for your time,” she offered quietly. “Enough money that you could send Jonah away to school. Not Eton, perhaps, but he would get an education and have a better life.”

Damn her for offering something like this. She
knew
he couldn’t walk away from the chance to give his brother a future. Although he had a little money of his own, he lacked the connections to enroll Jonah in the right school.

“And what makes you think I’m a safe traveling companion?” he demanded. She had to enter this agreement with her eyes open, to fully ken what she was asking. They would spend days and nights together.

“N-nothing would happen between us. You’d be driving.” She stood up from the table, offering her hand. “If you find Amelia, it will all be worth it. I can’t let Lord Lisford take advantage of my sister. Not after what he did to me.”

Cain didn’t ask questions, for he’d tried to stop Margaret from marrying the viscount years ago. She’d stubbornly refused and had been humiliated when Lisford had abandoned her.

It was the best thing that could have happened to the lass, though she’d never admit it. The viscount would have driven Margaret mad within a few months.

“I’ll help you,” he said at last. “But in return, you’ll see to it that Jonah is accepted at a good school. And they canna throw him out, either.” He didn’t doubt that his younger brother would break every rule in existence.

Cain dropped a few coins on the table, and Margaret took his arm. “I promise, I will ensure that he has the best education possible.”

He guided her outside, and her footman followed. The older man eyed Cain as if he suspected the worst. “Miss Andrews, might I ask what this . . . gentleman’s intentions are? I presume he is the Mr. Sinclair of whom you spoke?”

“He is, yes. Mr. Sinclair has been a friend of my family’s for many years now. I’ve hired him to help search for my sister.”

The footman’s expression grew pained. “Miss Andrews, truly, this is unwise. Your father would never—”

“My father will not know of this. Not if you wish to keep your position,” she warned. “Now, Mr. Sinclair, do you have a coach you would prefer to use, or will this one suffice?”

Normally when he’d traveled between Scotland and London, he went on horseback. It was rare that he had the luxury of a coach at all. He sent Margaret a sidelong glance. “And here, I was wanting a coach made of gold.”

She sighed. To the footman, she said, “Mr. Primrose, that will be all. You may return to my father’s house on foot.”

The footman appeared aghast at her orders. “But Miss Andrews, I cannot let you go off with this man alone. Your father would have me dismissed immediately.”

Cain eyed the man. “Tell Lord Lanfordshire the truth. Tell him that Miss Andrews asked me to help her search for her sister. He is welcome to send his men along with us.” To the driver he added, “If you’re wanting to go with us, Miss Andrews will pay you for your services. Or if you’d rather no’, you can leave us now.”

She gaped for a moment, for Cain knew she’d expected
him
to do all the driving. Truthfully, he was hoping she would abandon this wild goose chase and stay at home where she belonged. She was fully unprepared for such a journey.

The coachman appeared uneasy. “I’ll drive you to the edge of the city, Miss Andrews. No farther than that.”

Margaret shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me, so long as we find Amelia.”

“And if we don’t?” Cain wanted her to be prepared for the worst, but she seemed oblivious to that likely reality.

“Our friend, the Earl of Castledon, is searching the main roads,” she continued. “I want us to travel along any other roads Lord Lisford might have taken. One of us has to intercept her.”

Her determination rivaled a warrior woman, like Boudicca. He tried to imagine Margaret with her hair cropped short, wielding a sword against the enemy as she charged into battle.

The image didn’t fit, for she’d sooner die than get a wrinkle in her gown or let a single strand escape that topknot. Even so, it was . . . interesting. Beneath her polished surface, he’d glimpsed the defiant spirit of a rebel. Aye, she wore gowns and bonnets. But any woman who would demand help for her sister, at the cost of her own reputation, was a woman of courage. She’d always cared about others more than herself.

Cain ordered the driver to take them through the Tottenham Court gate leading out of London. Margaret gave the man half a crown in payment, before she entered the coach. She adjusted her white gloves, smoothing the edges of her ball gown. Around her throat, she wore a strand of pearls, while a jaunty ostrich feather perched in her blond chignon. Beside her on the seat rested a green bonnet.

In the shadowed darkness of the vehicle, Cain sat across from her. “This is foolish. And dangerous, you ken?” He wanted her to understand the risks before she traveled with him.

“I have to find her,” she whispered. She reached out to grip his palms while the coach rumbled along its journey north. “I can’t let Lisford hurt Amelia. He humiliated me in front of everyone, and I won’t let her become his next victim.”

A dark tension pulled at him. Aye, the viscount had made Margaret into a laughingstock when he’d abandoned her before their wedding. Cain had tried to warn her away, but she wouldn’t listen to him. He’d already bloodied the viscount’s nose once, when he’d had the chance to fight against Lisford in a boxing match. But now that the viscount had targeted Margaret’s sister, he’d gone too far.

“I am glad you didna marry him.” He released one hand and reached up to touch her cheek. “He would ne’er have been man enough for you.” The moment his roughened palm slid over her bare skin, she shivered.

He had no right to touch her, but she didn’t deny him. Over the years, he’d watched her transform from a prim and proper lady into a strong-willed woman.

“It ne’er had to be that way,” he reminded her. “You could have been married by now, with a bairn to hold in your arms.” He stroked her cheek, drawing his palm down to her throat. He wanted her to remember the night he’d asked her to wed him.

Margaret’s gaze fixed upon the floor of the coach. “We weren’t suited.” Gently, she pulled his hand away from her face, reminding him of the boundaries between them. She reached into her hair and withdrew the feather, before covering her dark blond hair with the bonnet. Cool green eyes stared into his.

“Because you’re too good for the likes of me, is that it, lass?” He stared hard at her. “I’m no’ a prince or even a baron. I’ve little more than two coins to rub together.” The words sounded bitter, even to him, but she’d wounded his pride. Aye, he lacked a large house and servants. But he would have taken care of her.