Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (21 page)

It was not an insult, to be precise, but he’d implied that Cain might not conduct himself appropriately. She also recognized it as a means of declining the invitation.

Behind her, she felt Cain’s hand tighten against her waist. She waited for him to agree that they did need to leave. But instead, he surprised her, asking, “What is it you want to do, lass?”

Never had she imagined that he would even consider such a thing. She’d half expected him to refuse and haul her back to their horse.

Instead, he’d offered her a choice. It was all she could do to keep her mouth from dropping open.

Margaret discreetly reached back for his hand and squeezed it. Though she already knew what the outcome would be, she was grateful that he’d not made demands. To Mr. Barnabas, she gave a polite excuse. “I fear I haven’t a proper gown,” she apologized, “and undoubtedly, we would be outsiders among your neighbors.” Not to mention, there was a slim chance she might be recognized by someone.

“Have you a gown she could borrow?” Cain asked Barnabas abruptly. “Your sister’s, perhaps?”

What
was he doing? One moment he was demanding that they leave, and now he was considering staying?

“There might be a leftover gown,” Barnabas answered. “Though since I have no brothers, I cannot say if there would be any clothing that would fit you, Mr. Sinclair.”

“I’ve no need of them.” Cain dismissed the idea, but Margaret wanted to know why on earth he was even thinking of attending the gathering.

“May I speak with you alone,
Cousin
?” she asked, though it wasn’t truly a question. “We need to discuss a few things.”

With a nod to Barnabas, Cain led her outside the library, closing the door behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking for all the world like he intended to have his way.

“I don’t understand,” she blurted out. “One moment you insist that we leave, and now you’re asking if I can borrow a gown? For what reason would you want to stay?”

His gaze passed over her, and he gave a light shrug. “You said you would be shut away from the world, after you return home. That you wouldna be able to attend any gatherings at all.”

A hard lump formed in her throat, but she nodded. “That is true.” She could live with her parents, but there would be no invitations for her to accept—not after this scandal.

Cain took her hand, his thumb drawing imaginary circles over her skin. “I wondered if you might want to attend one last night of dancing, before it all ends. Before we go home.”

It hadn’t even occurred to her, that this might be the only chance she had to make merry, before the walls closed in on her. But
he
had thought of it.

“You would do this for me?”

He shrugged. “I willna do much dancing myself, but if you’re wanting to go, I suppose one more night willna make much difference.”

“And what about Mr. Barnabas? I thought you didn’t trust him.”

A sly smile crossed Cain’s face. “Nay, I don’t. But I’ll be there to pound him into the floor if he looks at you wrong, lass.”

Chapter Nine

J
onah eyed the bed longingly, but MacKinloch shook his head. “You’ll take the floor, lad.”

They had been forced to share a room with other travelers, and there was no space for him. The room itself was sparse and cold, his breath forming clouds in the night air. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of summer—it was always cold in Scotland.

He curled up against one wall, wishing he had a blanket. Anything to bring warmth to his half-frozen feet and hands. But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, tears rose up in his eyes.

Damn it all, he wouldn’t cry. He was nearly a man, and he couldn’t be so foolish as to weep like a girl.

The truth was, he missed Cain. Aye, his older brother had always told him what to do and was unforgiving about it. But he’d never gone hungry or cold. He’d had a pallet of his own near the fire and a woolen blanket that Grania had woven for him.

Cain hadn’t left him alone often, he admitted to himself. His brother had arranged for him to stay with Grania and Rory whenever he’d had to travel for Lady Lanfordshire and her daughters. Grania had treated him like a son, and though she could never take his mother’s place, she’d been good to him.

Why had he journeyed this far? He’d never known hardship like this. His body was shivering from the cold, his teeth chattering. The wooden floor was hard against his back, and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get warm.

No longer did adventure have the same appeal. He wanted to be back home at Eiloch Hill, where he had a warm bed and enough food to eat.

Silently, he got up from his place and went over to Joseph MacKinloch. The older man was sprawled across the bed, snoring. He couldn’t be fully asleep, Jonah reasoned, so he tugged at the man’s shoulder.

MacKinloch’s eyes flew open, and he swung his fist toward Jonah’s face. Cursing when he realized who it was, he muttered, “Leave me alone, lad.”

“I want to go back,” Jonah said. “I don’t want to go to London anymore.”

At that, MacKinloch yawned. “If that’s what ye’re wanting. In the morning, go where’er ye like, lad. I’ll go my way and ye can return.”

That wasn’t what Jonah had meant at all. “But I don’t ken how to get home, Joseph. I couldna find Ballaloch if I wanted to.”

The man rolled over and opened his eyes again. In them, Jonah saw the ruthlessness of a man who didn’t care. “I’m no’ returning to Ballaloch. If ye want to go back, it’s yer choice. But don’t be asking me to help ye.”

A sinking dread took hold in his stomach. He realized now that MacKinloch had his own purpose in this journey, and though he’d allowed Jonah to come along, he didn’t care what happened to him. He was truly alone, with no money, and he’d given his father’s pistol away.

“Or ye can continue our journey and find yer brother,” MacKinloch offered. “That is, if he’s still in London.”

It seemed he had little choice. Jonah believed Cain had to be in London, since Margaret Andrews was there. His brother often found reasons to be around the baron’s daughter, though Miss Andrews would never wed a man like Cain.

Jonah had to stay with MacKinloch. Otherwise he’d be abandoned here, lost and alone. “I’ll stay,” he told the man, returning to his corner of the room.

The damn tears came back again, but this time Jonah let himself cry quietly. He’d made a mistake in coming here, but with any luck, he’d find his brother again. Cain might have told him what to do at every waking moment, but at least he cared. Jonah knew that MacKinloch wouldn’t care at all if they parted ways.

With his knuckles, he swiped at his face. Silently he prayed that he would find his brother again. And when he did, he knew just what he’d say to Cain.

I’m sorry.

The sapphire gown was rather tight across the bosom, and it revealed entirely too much skin. Yet, Margaret eyed herself in the looking glass, feeling as if she were staring at a stranger.

The maid, Annie, had used tongs to curl her hair, and Margaret couldn’t look at her own reflection without remembering the last ball she’d attended, on the night Amelia had been taken. Though outwardly, she could pass for any lady of the ton, now, she felt like a different person—a survivor.

Annie helped her put on long white gloves, and Margaret was thankful that the hem of the gown was long enough to hide her shoes. Unfortunately, Mr. Barnabas’s sister had smaller feet, so Margaret had no choice but to wear her own.

“You look perfect, my lady,” the maid pronounced.

“Thank you.” Margaret managed to smile, but inwardly, she was worried about Cain. He’d agreed to stay tonight for her sake, but he’d never said anything about attending the supper party himself.

Before she left her room, she went over the guests’ names in her mind. She had helped Mr. Barnabas rearrange the seating, but she had not placed herself or Cain at the table. It occurred to her that he had invited eight guests, along with himself. There was one seat remaining at the table, and she questioned whether he’d purposely left Cain out.

Perhaps she could find a footman and discreetly ask him to set another place. With that thought in mind, she continued down the stairs until she found Mr. Barnabas waiting for her. His face lit up at the sight of her, and he offered his arm.

“You are the most exquisite lady I have ever laid eyes upon,” he said, and his gaze lingered briefly upon Margaret’s bosom. She pretended she hadn’t seen that, and took his arm, allowing him to lead her inside. Soon enough, it became clear that he intended for her to act as the hostess, greeting the guests while remaining at his side.

Cain, in the meantime, was nowhere to be found.

Worry knotted inside her, even as she slid into the role she could perform without thought. She greeted guests, made polite conversation, and memorized the names of people she would never see again. And all the while, she was searching for a glimpse of
him.

As minutes turned into an hour, she longed to go in search of Cain. A footman passed by, and winked at her.

Winked?

Margaret frowned, wondering why on earth he would do such a thing. She saw him disappear through one of the doorways. Before she could follow, she found herself speaking to an elderly man who appeared quite fascinated with the tight lines of her bodice.

My face is up here,
she wanted to tell him, but of course that would be rude.

“The weather has been ghastly, as of late, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Andrews? We’ve had so much rain, I imagine Noah and his ark might appear at any day now.”

The older man let out a barking laugh, and she sent him a vacuous smile. “Quite.”

“Nothing like a bit of sunshine, eh?” He was still chuckling over his own humor, and Margaret’s smile was strained.

Actually, there’s something to be said for being caught in the rain with a handsome Highlander.

“Barnabas told me that your father is Lord Lanfordshire and that you have estates in London and in Scotland.”

Oh for goodness’ sake. The man was practically salivating at the thought of her potential dowry. What he didn’t know was how ruined she was.

“He does, yes.” In the corner, the dancing was about to begin, and Mr. Barnabas asked her if she wanted to be his partner.

Margaret agreed, but she was already searching for a means to escape. Although there was nothing outwardly wrong, she was beginning to realize that, without Cain, this supper party wasn’t enjoyable at all. She wanted to share the gathering with him, to bring him into her world and teach him how to be a part of the merriment.

After the third country dance, she saw him standing at the doorway. He was wearing the green-and-brown kilt, but it appeared that he’d borrowed a clean white shirt and a cravat. He also wore a black coat with brass buttons, and his head was bare. His long black hair was pulled back into a queue, and more than one young woman noticed him.

“Who is
that
?” the lady beside Margaret asked. Her eyes gleamed with interest.

“
That
is my cousin, Cain Sinclair,” she answered, tamping down her own surge of possessiveness.

“Will you introduce us?” the lady pleaded, but Margaret ignored her and crossed the room to greet him.

“I am glad you came, Mr. Sinclair.”

He bowed slightly and sent her a secret smile of his own. “The gown suits you, lass.”

Instead of feeling exasperated that he, too, had noticed the tightness of her bodice, she felt a flush of awareness. “Thank you.”

She placed her arm in his and guided him toward the others. A glimmer of excitement took hold, that she could finally show him what it was like to attend a supper party and enjoy an evening of dancing. He had never been permitted to be a part of this society, and she wanted to give him the experience for the first time in his life.

Keeping her voice low, she told him the names of the guests and which ones were of the nobility. Thankfully none of them were acquainted with her family, which meant it was unlikely that she’d see them again.

“If you would like to dance with me, before we go in to supper, I think there’s another set left,” she hinted.

Cain reached for her gloved hand. “This night isna about me, lass. It’s about you. Go back and enjoy yourself.”

He believed that, didn’t he? She shook her head. “No. I’ve already danced. I merely thought we could . . . have a dance together.” Then again, the steps were rather intricate. Likely he wouldn’t know what he was doing, and it would only make him uncomfortable.

His hand squeezed hers. “Another time, lass.”

She acceded to that, but she had the sense that he intended to remain in the background. “Shall I introduce you to the others?”

“They willna care who I am.”

His stubbornness was beginning to frustrate her. “At least try, won’t you?” She wanted him to enjoy himself, to find a bright moment in this evening.

“I am here, Margaret. But I came only to guard you. No’ to play a part in this.”

“Then why did you wear the clothes?” She studied the black coat he was wearing. “Where did you get them?”