Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (20 page)

But she didn’t. Instead, she turned away, pretending she hadn’t seen his invitation. Her rejection bruised his pride, but he said nothing, letting his hands fall to his sides.

“In the morning, then,” was all he said as he walked away, ignoring the shard of frustration. He’d been married to Beatrice for many years. And yet, on days like these, it seemed that he didn’t know her at all.

Margaret walked into the dining room, searching for a glimpse of Cain. He’d claimed they would leave early this morning, but so far she had not seen him.

“Did you sleep well, Miss Andrews?” Mr. Barnabas inquired, while she took her place at the dining room table. He wore a blue morning coat with a cravat and cream-colored trousers. His dark blond hair was neatly combed, and he was clean-shaven. She detected a slight scent, rather like bergamot. He offered a warm smile, but his gaze fixed upon her body in a way that made her feel uncertain.

Outwardly, the man was exactly the sort of man she might have wanted, a few years ago. He was wealthy, in command of a large estate, and kind. In fact, nothing appeared to be wrong with him, which made her wonder why he hadn’t married sooner.

“I slept very well, thank you,” she answered. “We were most grateful for your hospitality last evening.” It was true. She’d fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber. It had been wonderful to sleep beneath covers, safe and warm within four walls.

The footman offered her sausage and toast, but while she ate, it struck her that this was the first normal morning she’d had in many days. It was like dining with her family in the morning—only this time, there was a gentleman smiling at her.

“I wondered if you might consider staying for another day, before you set off for Scotland,” he ventured.

He wants you to stay. And damned if I’ll let you become his prey.
Cain’s words rang in her memory, along with his warnings. But Mr. Barnabas had never threatened her—this was only an invitation.

The footman poured her a hot cup of tea, and Margaret used the distraction to think for a moment. “Thank you for your offer of hospitality, but we really do need to go.”

“I am hosting a supper party tonight for some of my friends and neighbors.” Mr. Barnabas sent her a kindly smile. “I thought it might be an enjoyable way for you and your cousin to spend an evening. There will be dancing.”

The thought of Cain attending a party with dancing almost brought a smile to her face. He had attended many
cèilidhs
over the years, but he wouldn’t know how to join in the formal dancing sets she was accustomed to.

“Also, I fear that I have relied too heavily upon my mother and sister over the years, when it comes to making arrangements,” Mr. Barnabas apologized. “Although my cook is preparing the food today, I’ve no idea of the proper seating. I would welcome your assistance, since I imagine you know the etiquette better than I. And then you and your cousin could stay for the gathering. It would be my way of saying thank you.”

Margaret hesitated, though she knew Sinclair would refuse outright. He was determined to reach Scotland quickly.

And yet, she did feel a slight obligation toward Mr. Barnabas. He
had
given them shelter and food, when they were strangers to him. If she stayed a few hours longer, she could easily look over the seating arrangements and adjust them accordingly. After so many years of training, she could plan elaborate gatherings in her sleep, for it was a skill she had mastered.

“Since you were so kind to offer us a place to stay last night, I’d be happy to help you,” she began. “I fear we cannot stay for the party, but I can indeed look over the plans you’ve made.”

“I would be most grateful.” His smile was warm, and she redirected her attention back to her tea.

“It’s the least I can do, since you’ve been so kind as to offer your coach for traveling.” Her voice came out rushed, revealing her nervousness. “But it won’t take days to set everything to rights. I can manage it in a few hours.”

His sheepish smile grew. “I know you could. But I must confess, it’s an excuse to ask you to stay,” he admitted. “It’s rare for me to have visitors, much less a woman of such beauty as yourself. I’d like to know you better.”

“I’m certain you would,” interrupted the voice of Cain Sinclair. The Highlander’s dark hair was damp, hanging below his shoulders. He looked as if he’d just splashed water on his face, and he’d worn the same brown-and-green kilt from yesterday. His chiseled face sent a warning toward Barnabas, as if to say,
Leave her alone.

“We must be on our way,” Cain said to Margaret. “After your meal, we’ll go.” He stood behind her chair, with both hands on the curved edge of the mahogany. It was a blatant show of possession, and she didn’t appreciate it at all. Why was he behaving like this?

She decided that now was not the time to mention Mr. Barnabas’s request. Something had provoked Sinclair’s anger, and she sensed that there was a strong reason why he wanted her to go. To pacify him, she said, “You haven’t had anything to eat yet. Why don’t you join us?” Perhaps food would put him in a better mood.

Instead, Cain picked up her fork and stabbed a sausage, eating directly off her plate. “This is enough for me, lass.”

She could hardly believe what he’d done. It went beyond bad manners, as if he were staking his claim upon her. Uneasiness rippled through her, for he’d well overstepped his bounds.

To the footman, she asked, “Please fetch Mr. Sinclair a plate. Since he appears to be so hungry that he cannot wait for his own food.” She turned and glared at him, but his eyes were fixed upon Mr. Barnabas. A moment later, Cain chose the chair beside hers, as if guarding her.

What on earth was the matter with these men? It was as if they were competing for her favors—Mr. Barnabas by using good manners and Cain Sinclair by behaving like a barbarian.

She straightened and said, “Mr. Barnabas, please forgive my cousin’s behavior. I fear that he tends to be rather outspoken at times.”

And domineering,
she thought. Stubborn and demanding, too. He presumed too much and she didn’t like the way he was ordering her around.

Their host behaved as if nothing had happened and offered, “If you would like to join me in the parlor within the hour, I will bring my list of guests attending, and we can discuss the best seating arrangements for the supper party.”

“What supper party?” Cain demanded.

“Mr. Barnabas has asked for my assistance, since he is hosting a gathering here tonight. He invited us to attend.” Margaret raised her napkin to her lips and took a sip of hot tea. “I told him we could not stay, but I will help him with his seating arrangements.”

Beneath the table, Cain pressed his knee against hers, as if in warning. She nudged him back, in her silent demand,
Leave me alone.

“There won’t be time for that, lass.”

“Then I shall
make
the time. After all, were it not for Mr. Barnabas’s coach, we would be traveling on horseback again,” she pointed out. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

Although Cain wanted to remain on horseback,
she
did not. Margaret saw no reason not to borrow the private coach when it had been offered to them.

Mr. Barnabas’s face held amusement at the small victory. “Do feel free to finish your breakfast at your leisure,” he said. “I have a few matters to attend, and then I will meet with you in the parlor.”

As soon as he was gone, she turned to Sinclair. “Why are you behaving as if you’re angry? Mr. Barnabas only asked for a few moments of my time. It means nothing at all.”

“He wants you to stay,” he pointed out.

“Yes, he said that. And I told him I could only spare a few hours.”

“A few hours?” He sent her an incredulous look. “Why would you agree to that? Don’t you ken what he’s trying to do?”

She was growing more and more annoyed with his high-handed jealousy. “Will you stop acting as if you expect him to accost me?
What
has he done wrong except to show interest in courting me?”

“If you walk into that parlor, he’ll do everything he can to coax you to stay longer,” Cain insisted. Beneath the table, he reached for her right hand.

“You are being entirely too suspicious,” she chided.

“My instincts have no’ failed me yet. Have you seen the way the servants are acting?”

She shook her head, not understanding.

“They’re being careful, lass. Too careful. There’s no one gossiping in the servants’ hall, no smiling. No laughter.”

She hadn’t really considered it, but he was right about the atmosphere being more serious. “Perhaps they keep their conversation to themselves.”

Cain’s voice was a whisper over her skin. “Any man who has such tight command over his staff is a dangerous person.” He stood up from the dining-room table and said, “Come with me, and we’ll see what sort of man he really is.”

She took one last bite of breakfast and followed him. “I still believe you’re being foolish.”

In answer, he raised a finger to his lips and beckoned for her to follow. She wanted to tell him no, but he took her hand and led her from the room. They kept their backs to the wall, and Margaret wasn’t entirely certain where Mr. Sinclair was going. He passed the parlor and made his way toward the library. The door was slightly ajar, and Cain pressed her back into the shadow of a grandfather clock.

Although they weren’t hidden, it seemed forbidden to be skulking about, eavesdropping upon poor Mr. Barnabas. Cain pulled her close, and she half wondered if he was inventing all of this as an excuse to spy upon the man.

But a moment later, she heard Lewis Barnabas speaking in an entirely different tone.

“Why was I not informed that he left London?” Barnabas was asking the butler. His voice held unmistakable frustration. “Did I, or did I not, hire men who were supposed to tell me if he ever left?”

“You did, sir, and that is why we received the letter—”

“It was because of
me
that these estates prospered. They were given into
my
care, and I will not allow him to run them into the ground again.”

Margaret gripped Cain’s shirt, uncertain that they should be overhearing any of this. His arms curled around her, and she heard the steady beat of his heart. She was about to suggest that they go, when the door suddenly slammed shut and the room went silent.

“What’s happening?” Margaret whispered.

Cain’s mouth moved to her ear. “He’s killing the butler.”

Appalled, she turned back, only to see the glint of teasing in his eyes. Whispering back, she responded, “No, he is not!”

“He might be. ’Tis verra quiet.”

But within a few moments, the butler emerged from the library. His face was pale, and in his hand, he clenched a letter. He didn’t appear to see them, and after a moment, Cain led her from their hiding place. “Are you still wanting to help Barnabas plan his supper party?”

She shrugged. “Just because we overheard him being angry doesn’t mean that he’s dangerous.” Anyway, they would be leaving and it didn’t matter at all. If she could make the adjustments quickly, they could be on their way, and that was that. Margaret started to walk toward the library when Cain caught her arm. “What are you doing, lass?”

“I am going to meet with him, as I said I would.”

“No’ without me,” he insisted. “We stay together.”

She didn’t argue with him, but she was questioning the wisdom of staying here. “I’ll ask him for the coach, and we can go.”

“He’s no’ going to give it to us,” Cain said, beneath his breath.

She didn’t believe him, but she pressed onward and knocked upon the door. When there came no reply, she opened it and found Mr. Barnabas seated, staring out the window.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

Mr. Barnabas spun, his fists clenched. As soon as he saw her, he relaxed his hands. “Forgive me, Miss Andrews. You startled me.”

From behind her, Margaret felt Cain’s palm pressing against her back. “There’s no need for us to stay any longer,” he told Barnabas. “It seems that you have enough troubles without us.”

The man stood from his desk, his face softening. “I must beg your pardon. I received some bad news about . . . a family member who is in trouble. I spoke rashly, and I am sorry if you overheard that.”

He appeared distinctly uncomfortable for the outburst. Margaret wondered if the family member had been gambling or spending a great deal of money. She frowned a moment, wondering if he was somehow related to Lord Lisford. Such had not occurred to her, but she knew Mr. Barnabas was only caring for the estates—he was not the heir.

Curious.

“I understand,” Margaret said smoothly. “I won’t bother you any further, but I thought I’d ask if we might still borrow your coach before we go.”

His expression turned apologetic. “Regrettably, I must take it myself in the morning when I travel to . . . see about matters. I am terribly sorry that I can no longer lend it to you.”

He crossed the room and added, “But if you would stay another night, perhaps I can atone for it. I will not be leaving until tomorrow morning, and my invitation to attend the supper party stands. There will be music and dancing, as well as good food.” His gaze passed over to Cain. “However, I understand if such a gathering would be uncomfortable for you, Sinclair.”