Prologue

Excerpted and Edited from LadyScot

"S tabbed?" Sadie Allen, Scottish debutante, gaped at the constable. She and her co-conspirator Iseabail stood in the drawing room while three men-at-arms glared at her. They apparently thought her a murderer. "We didn't stab him!"

Thankfully, the Dowager Countess of Byrning stood with her, as did her cousin Mairi. But apparently, these rough men didn't have any interest in listening to a bunch of women.

The squat, ugly constable frowned at them. "You are Scottish, are you not?"

"I am."

"Do you own Scottish knives?"

"Of course, I do. Bloody mad to not have one up in the moors." Since they were in London right then, her statement wasn't helpful.

"A knife was left by the body. It was a Scottish dirk. One that would be used by a lady."

"That doesn't mean it was mine!" Sadie exclaimed. "And we didn't stab him."

"We certainly didn't bring a knife to the ball," stated the countess.

"We hit him with a tree branch," Iseabail said.

Sadie turned on her friend, both annoyed and horrified. She would not let Iseabail pay for her misdeeds. " I hit him with the tree branch. You punched him." She turned back to the constable. "And neither of us stabbed him! You can ask Mr. Barrett. He was there. He knows."

"Mr. Barrett is the witness against you. He said you stabbed Mr. Carr viciously with a horrible Scottish scream."

"A scream?" The countess scoffed. "At a ball? Don't you think other people would have heard?"

The constable folded his arms in irritation. "It was in the neighboring yard. Apparently, the orchestra was very loud."

"It was no such thing!" the countess snapped. "To think that you dare come to my house and accuse my young proteges of…of murder? " She shuddered as she said the word. "Look at them. They are young ladies. They could no more murder a man than I could climb up the side of Big Ben."

The watchman to the left of the constable arched his brows over his craggy face. "They look plenty strong to me. Bet they carved up stags and the like for dinner, yeah? Little difference between cutting up an animal and a man. If'n a woman were pressed, and she didn't like it, she might stab a man. Several times, in fact."

"I might," Sadie said, her voice clipped. "But I didn't. Much easier to hit him in the head and walk away. Which is what I did."

Iseabail took hold of Sadie's arm. "What we did."

"Nevertheless," the constable said, "I've got my orders. You'll both be coming with me." He gestured to the watchmen who advanced menacingly.

Sadie wanted to fight, but these men had the law on their side. Then the watchmen held up shackles and the horror of the moment hit her broadside. She was going to be set in irons?

"No," she whispered. Then more loudly. "I did not kill Mr. Carr!"

The watchman across from her grinned. "We can put 'em on you easy or I can put you on the floor, and I won't be gentle about it. We're in the light o' day now, Billy Bitch, an—"

"What did you just say?" A loud male voice cut through the room.

All three men straightened at the authority in the voice. The women did, too, though with less trepidation. Thankfully, he seemed to be outraged on their behalf. Or at least, that was the way it appeared as he strode into the room.

"An' who are you," the constable snarled, "to interfere with the law?"

"I'm Lord Heath, and I've just come from Carlton House to save you from making a huge mistake."

If they'd straightened at his tone, it was nothing compared to what the watchmen did at the mention of Carlton House. They snapped to attention so fast, their spines cracked, and no wonder. This man was an intimate of the Prince Regent, and only a fool would contradict him. And yet, apparently, the constable was determined.

"Don't care who you know. These women are wanted for murder."

"Yes, I'm aware."

Connall, her clan leader and guardian, entered the room a moment later, and though his expression was relaxed, his eyes held a gleam of deadly intent. "I was meeting with Prinny when we heard the news," he said by way of explanation. "Lord Heath insisted on coming here. Like the Prince Regent, he's very invested in all people in His Majesty's kingdom getting along. A false accusation of murder would be a disgrace that the prince would take very seriously."

Lord Heath nodded his head. "Very seriously indeed." He held up a knife. A long dirk with a silver twist knot handle. It looked very lovely with its exquisite metal work. At least as far as Sadie could tell. "Is this knife near the same length and weight of the murder weapon?"

The constable glared at the thing. "Yes. Deadly and light enough to be wielded by a woman."

"Hmmm. Really?" He passed it to Sadie. "Please attack me with that, Miss Allen."

"What?"

"Come, come," he said, straightening up to his full height which was significantly taller than her. "I'm making improper advances. Defend yourself."

He wasn't making improper advances. He was standing there with his arms spread wide as if inviting her to gut him.

"I swear I will not hurt you," he said, his tone light and a little mocking. She was no warrior, but she'd used a knife before. She knew where to strike a man and how.

But there he stood with a congenial expression on his broad face. He was a very large man with a bland Sassenach expression. What that meant wasn't exactly clear in her mind except that he seemed English through and through, and he was asking her to attack him.

She stood there stupefied. Did he really mean—

Apparently, he did because he suddenly lunged for her. He was faster than a man his size should be, and his hands were very large when they fell on her shoulders, gripping her tight as he drew her improperly close.

She reacted on instinct, bringing the knife up between them. All she needed to do was point the thing toward his gut and shove. Except the moment she began, he twisted his arm around hers and knocked the weapon wide. The action was so abrupt, she lost hold of the weapon. The thing went flying straight at a watchman who knocked it away with a quick flick of his wrist.

Damnation. She was a better fighter than that. And much too smart to allow him to twist her fully around until she was pressed back to front against him. And yet here she stood, enfolded improperly in his arms. Heavens, the man's heat was startling as he surrounded her.

What had just happened?

"You caught her by surprise," the constable said. "Any woman can take a man unawares."

"Really?" Lord Heath said. He turned around such that his back was to her. "Come at me again."

"What?" she said as she stared at his undefended back.

Connall grabbed the knife off the floor and offered it to her. "Attack him again, Sadie. And do it like you mean it."

"I meant it last time," she grumbled. But she'd been slow then. This time she was prepared, so she lifted the dirk in her fist. Damn, the point was really sharp. She did not want to hurt Lord Heath, but her blood was up.

She lurched forward, only to have him duck away as he twisted to the side. Then in one smooth motion, he straightened up to catch her wrist. His hand was massive, and he easily held her away from him. Then he slowly, inexorably, tightened his fingers. She tried to keep hold of the dirk. She really did. But there was no fighting the pressure as he squeezed.

The dirk slipped from her grip and fell into his other hand.

"So you've some skill in a fight," the constable said. "Doesn't mean Mr. Carr does."

"On the contrary, he spars at the same place I do with Gentleman Jackson. He is well trained. Much better, I imagine, than Miss Allen."

"He was well trained, my lord," said the constable. "Now he's dead. Stabbed thirteen times, by the look of it. By someone who hated him."

"And you think it was her?" Lord Heath asked, shock in his tone. "By all accounts, she'd just met the man. She's barely been in the city for more than a few weeks. Why would she be moved to kill a man with such venom?"

The watchman nearest Sadie spoke up. "She's a mad Scot. Savages, every one. Who knows what they teach their women?"

Mairi huffed out a disgusted breath. "We're not taught to kill men for grabbing a tickle. We're taught to kick 'em in the bollocks."

"Or hit him with a branch," added Iseabail.

Lord Heath waved away their comments as if they were of no account. And maybe in his world, women had nothing of value to add. Sadie truly wanted to be insulted by that, but he was here defending her, so she held her tongue.

"The point is, she hasn't a motive for killing the man."

"He made lewd advances!"

Truth.

Lord Heath rolled his eyes. "As does every randy boy with a title. You know that as well as I. If she killed every man who tried to tup her, you'd have every lord in London demanding her capture."

"I do have one," said the constable. "Mr. Barrett was very clear."

"Ah yes, about Mr. Barrett." Lord Heath held up the dirk. "This is the Prince Regent's. Do you know Mr. Barrett brought a nicely wrought dirk to Carlton House just three nights ago? To compare his with Prinny's."

Connall's brows rose as if surprised. "You're saying Mr. Barrett had a knife just like the murder weapon?"

"I am. And there's more. Do you wonder if perhaps Mr. Barrett had a reason to kill his dear friend and neighbor?"

Connall frowned. "If they were dear friends, then what motive could he have for such a vicious attack?"

Lord Heath grinned. "Well, that requires a knowledge of Mr. Carr's estate. You see, upon his death, his title passes to his cousin, but that's just the title. His father is a baron, you know, and very proud of the fact. The land, however, is owed to Mr. Barrett's father. It was placed as security for a loan."

Sadie's mouth gaped open. "So on Mr. Carr's death, Mr. Barrett gets all his land?"

"Yes. There's been bad blood between the two families for generations. Neighbors aren't always good friends and the Barrett family is a tricky bunch. With Mr. Carr, Mr. Barrett might have pretended to be his friend, and even loaned him money with generous terms."

Sadie folded her arms. "How generous?"

"Payable upon the son's death, the son being the heir and all. Normal interest and the like. It sounds like a neighborly thing to do, right?"

Connall grunted. "Unless you're planning on killing the son."

Lord Heath shrugged. "Well, Mr. Carr was shagging every girl he could get his hands on. It's reasonable to bet that he'd get a disease sooner or later."

Iseabail pressed her hand to her mouth in horror. "But they appeared to be friends," she said. "He spoke kindly about Mr. Carr."

"Yes," Lord Heath said gravely. "There's a dark twist in Mr. Barrett. Spend enough time with him and you'll see it too. He revered Mr. Carr as much as he hated him. There's a history between those two that started back in Eton. Ugly mess, more than once."

The constable appeared to be considering the possibility. "A child's spat is not the same as a man committing murder."

"It's not," Lord Heath agreed. "But it makes much more sense than a slip of a girl stabbing a stranger thirteen times just because he'd tried for a kiss." He looked at Sadie. "Did you say you were going to tell anyone about the attack? Perhaps involve Mr. Barrett in it, as well, such that his status in society was threatened?"

Sadie nodded. "I'd already aligned the women against both Mr. Carr and Mr. Barrett. Everyone knows they cover for one another, so that means they're equally to blame for their crimes. The countess agreed. No one was going to invite them to any parties ever again."

Lord Heath nodded. "That would definitely infuriate Mr. Barrett. Going to parties was the only thing he had in his life, and that was because he was attached, socially speaking, to Mr. Carr. If Mr. Carr did something stupid—say, accost the wrong woman—and that threatened Mr. Barrett's standing with the ton? " The man shrugged. "Well, that would make Mr. Barrett very angry. Probably furious enough to kill."

Sadie shuddered. She had no idea what dark things had been between the men. Meanwhile, the constable grunted, his expression sour. Clearly, he was beginning to see the logic, though he didn't like it.

"Well," inserted the countess with an airy wave. "It appears you have more investigating to do before you come willy-nilly into a person's home to arrest innocent girls. I can't imagine what the broadsides would say if they knew you took the word of a murderer over myself and Lord Heath, who is very close to Prinny himself."

Of course, she could imagine it. They all could because the constable's career would be over the moment the first caricature began to circulate.

Still, the man had to get in the final word. He pointed a finger straight at Sadie's nose. "You're not in the clear, miss. Not yet. I suggest you remain in London until this is sorted out."

Sadie opened her mouth to answer, but it was the countess who responded first. "Of course, she's not going anywhere! We're in the middle of the Season. Do you want to see the stack of invitations we've gotten just today? We're headed to Almack's tomorrow, where Lady Castlereigh has asked specifically for us to attend. I swear I would never think of disappointing a woman so important to society or her husband. Do you know Lord Castlereigh, constable?"

Flustered, the man shook his head. "No, my lady. I haven't had the pleasure."

"I have," said Lord Heath. "He's one who thinks we must be careful not to add bad blood with the Scots. He's right, of course. There's plenty to do fighting the French. No need to cause disruption with the Scots without good cause."

"And proof," added Connall darkly. "Real proof." He snapped his fingers as if he'd just remembered something, then opened the door to the parlor. "I almost forgot." A maid came in carrying two dresses. "Constable, do you think stabbing a man thirteen times would be a messy business? Ladies, are these the gowns you wore last night?"

Both Sadie and Iseabail said, "Yes."

He turned to the maid. "Have these been washed yet?"

"No, my lord," the maid said with a curtsey. "I haven't had time what with preparing their dresses for tonight."

Connall passed them to the constable. "As you can see, there's no blood on them anywhere."

The constable made a show of inspecting every corner of their gowns, but everyone could see he was defeated. In the end, he passed the dresses back.

"I'll be looking into this deeply now. It's an important matter when a future baron is stabbed."

"A very grave matter," Lord Heath said. "Which is why it's important to catch the right man ." The constable's face tightened at his words. But even the two watchmen could see that they had the wrong suspects.

A little while later, the men left the house, though with lots of sour looks and a clear refusal to apologize. The countess was a lot more gracious than Sadie was. The lady showed the men out and talked blithely about misunderstandings and how appreciative she was that they tried to do a good job. Honestly, it made Sadie grind her teeth, but she knew better than to interfere. Plus, she had something else she wanted to say.

She turned to Lord Heath. "Thank you, my lord. It was very kind of you to help me like that. I am very grateful."

The man looked her up and down. If he appreciated her looks, he didn't show it. Instead, he shook his head in disgust.

"Don't be grateful," he said. "Stop being a bloody idiot. Even my four-year-old daughter knows not to wander off with strange men. Do you know what could have happened to you?"

"I knew what I was doing," she said, somewhat peevishly. It had gone off perfectly. Or nearly so. How was she to know that Mr. Barrett was going to murder his unconscious friend? That wasn't her fault! And yet, Lord Heath was laying this whole disaster at her door.

"You had no idea what you were doing," the man said, his tone sharp. "When you're at a ball, you stay at the ball." He looked at Connall. "I helped today, but you cannot count on that the next time she does something foolish. Hitting a man with a branch! Did you think to send someone to see that he survived? Head wounds are tricky. You might easily have killed him. Indeed, you were lucky that Mr. Barrett decided to stab him first."

Sadie wanted to argue, except he had the right of it. She'd never guessed someone would murder the man and blame it on her. Still, her back was up.

"You've no right to speak to me—"

He didn't let her finish. He stepped right up next to her, towering over her until she felt like an errant child before him. He didn't touch her—he didn't need to.

"I am the man who saved you from the gallows, Miss Allen. I'd turn you over my knee if I thought it would get through to you."

There was no threat in his voice, but she heard the finality in his tone. Had she really been heading for the gallows? The idea terrified her. She'd lived an honest life. She was a respected woman back home. And yet here she'd come very close to being hanged? The very idea stunned her from head to toe.

And still he stood like a wall of disapproval in front of her. She might have accepted it from Connall. He was her clan leader and the one sponsoring her in London. But this man, daring to suggest he would spank her? That was a step too far.

Forcing strength into her body, she raised her gaze from his neatly tied cravat, then tilted her head back until she faced him squarely, if not exactly on the same level.

With an icy formality she'd learned from the countess, she said, "Your aid will be duly compensated, my lord. I'm sure my lady's butler will have something for you on the way out."

His brows arched at that, and she thought she'd scored a true hit. Until his lips quirked in a sardonic smile.

"Miss Allen, you have no idea what my compensation entails." There was a suggestive note to his words, innuendo that made her cheeks heat even as her eyes dropped in embarrassment. Truly, she was grateful for his help. She'd erred badly last night. But her pride kept her from owning her mistake in front of this man. Perhaps if he stepped back and gave her room to breathe. Or maybe if he weren't so large or smelled so damned interesting. She loved the scent of Bay Rum.

"Lord Heath," she began, forcing herself to be gracious. "I do appreciate…" Her voice trailed away as he spun on his heel, then bowed to the countess and shot a look at Connall.

"We'll talk about that other thing tomorrow." He glanced back at her. "She's reckless, and that's dangerous for a woman on the marriage mart."

"Aye," Connall said. He said no more because Lord Heath was already striding out the parlor door, leaving Sadie to stare after him while emotions roiled around inside her.

He'd been rude and impossible. But he'd also gone well out of his way to save her life. He'd been brusque about it. Downright harsh, truth be told, but didn't she deserve that? What if some stupid girl had come to Scotland and risked her life the way she'd done last night? Wouldn't she give the girl a well-deserved dressing down?

But oh, how it stung.

She would take it today because she'd been caught off guard. But woe be to Lord Heath if she ever saw him again. If he dared speak one harsh word to her, she'd tell him what she thought of him. And by God, his ears would be ringing.