Chapter Six

M alcolm usually wasn’t one for singing, especially to a beautiful lass, but here he was. Singing to Miss Barclay, whilst she sat on his lap, wrapped in his arms, as she struggled to calm down.

Singing was the first thing that popped into his mind when he’d picked up her trembling body. He didn’t know many songs, but this was one he’d taken a particular fancy to and remembered all the words. As his hands stroked her back and his voice filled the carriage, the rain offering a rhythmic backdrop, his only worry was to ease her nerves.

The way she buried her face in his chest, her hands clenched into tiny fists, his body was having an awakening of its own.

Mary watched his every movement from the seat across from them. Her forehead creased in concern. Whether it was due to his actions or worry for her mistress, he wasn’t certain. But she remained quiet as she watched, wringing her hands in her lap.

He reckoned something bad had happened to Lizzie for her to have such a reaction to the storm, but he didn’t want to press her when she was so distraught. He only wanted to offer her comfort. To show her that she was safe with him.

That voice in the back of his mind broke into his thoughts. Reminding him she was a thief. This was work. A mission he’d been assigned.

But he ignored the voice of reason. The one that also reminded him that he had no right to be holding her so tightly in his arms. She shouldn’t be in his arms at all.

Never mind on his lap.

Even though she fit perfectly.

The carriage ambled along, a bit slower now that the roads were muddy from the heavy rain. He hoped they didn’t get stuck, but that was entirely plausible considering the storm.

Thankfully, the thunder and lightning had ceased, and now it was just rain.

He should let her go. Set her back on her seat to sit by her maid.

But he couldn’t. He found himself enjoying the feel of her in his arms too much.

Mary was watching them closely. He didn’t blame the maid. It was her duty to ensure her lady was safe and not compromised. Something that he was surely making difficult.

Malcolm would never do anything to mar the lass’s reputation. No matter how much his body screamed right now. He could only hope that the lass wouldn’t notice his reaction. He was almost uncomfortably hard. The urge to rearrange himself to be more discreet was there, but he didn’t want to disturb the lass. And he feared doing so would only bring attention to his predicament.

She had finally stopped trembling. That was a good sign.

Pushing away from his chest, she looked up at him, her cheeks tinged pink as she patted his shirt.

“I-I apologize, my lord. I am no’ one to act in such a manner. ’Twas a bit of an embarrassing show, I must admit.”

He tucked his finger under her chin and forced her eyes to his. “Dinna apologize, Miss. How are ye feeling now?”

Her gaze moved to the window, taking in the lightening sky, and nodded. “I am much improved, Sir. Thank ye.”

She moved across the carriage to sit beside Mary once again, who clasped her hands in hers and brought them to her lap.

Quickly, he adjusted his sitting position to not give the women a fright. Had he been anyplace else, with any other company, he would have taken her right then and there in the carriage as they ambled down the road on the way to their destination. Well, once she regained her wits.

He usually didn’t hold back when it came to his body’s urges. Of course, the women he had bedded were always willing participants. He wasn’t a sod. Forcing a woman to do something she did not want to do was not something he found pleasure in. He was far from innocent, but he had his ethics.

Right now he was praising himself on his control. Soon, they should arrive at the inn where they would sup and spend the night.

And a long night it would be. He wouldn’t sleep in their room. That would no doubt spread rumors that didn’t need to be spread, but he would sleep close to ensure their safety.

And to make sure they didn’t chance an escape. He doubted they would, but just in case.

But he figured as long as he had possession of her grandmother’s jewels, she wouldn’t run. She still held on to the necklace she’d asked for earlier. But the earrings remained in his pocket. The chances of her running off in the middle of the night were slim. She wanted to make sure she regained ownership of her family’s jewelry.

That is if they were truly hers.

Time would only tell.

*

The carriage came to a stop, rocking them to and fro. They’d finally arrived at their destination for the night.

Inside the inn, Malcolm spoke to the owner manning the desk and secured two rooms, across the hall from each other, and escorted Lizzie and Mary to theirs.

Lizzie looked around, taking in the room. Her face gave away no inclination as to whether or not she thought it a proper room for them to stay.

“Will this suffice, Miss?” He asked. If she didn’t find the room appealing, he would talk to the innkeeper to see if something different was available.

She nodded and gave him a small smile. “’Tis just fine, my lord.”

The space held one large bed. Lizzie and Mary would have to share, but neither of the lasses complained about that so he figured it probably wasn’t the first time they’d been in such a scenario.

“I’ll leave ye two to get ready for dinner. I shall come by to get ye in an hour if that is acceptable?”

“Aye. That will be perfect. Thank ye, my lord.”

Her eyes were still a bit red and puffy from the tears she’d shed during the storm, but she appeared to be back to her normal demeanor.

Nodding, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him and made his way to his own room.

Sitting on the bed, he cradled his head in his hands and wondered once again what he had gotten himself into. With a heavy sigh, he moved to the basin, he splashed cool water on his face and wiped it dry with the towel hanging from the hook on the side of the table.

He hoped they wouldn’t have to endure any more storms on their way to Stonehaven. A repeat of this afternoon wasn’t something he wanted to see again. Moreover, he wasn’t sure Lizzie’s nerves could take it. He had never seen anyone so deathly afraid of storms before. The pure terror in her eyes was tragic.

Never mind himself. Because if she had that same reaction to another storm, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pulling her into his arms again and cradling her even tighter as he kissed all her worries away.

“Fuck,” he mumbled into the empty room. “She’s a thief, Kennedy.” He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. He could only imagine where his mind would take him.

Even as he said the words, he was having difficulty believing them. The lass was far too meek and the amount of noise she was making whilst rummaging through the viscountess’s armoire gave her innocence away. There was no scenario where she could get away with all the crimes she’d done with being so careless. Certainly, she would have been caught before now.

Based off the articles he’d read, he believed that the thief was more than likely a man.

However, catching the lass red-handed led some credence to Lizzie being the actual prowler.

It would be interesting to see once they arrived at Tolton Hall if the lass could prove her innocence or if she’d just taken him on a fool’s ride. Hopefully, he was smarter than that.

Putting his trust in the wrong person had burned him before. Memories of Angus assaulted him. He’d believed that lad was true to their country, never once suspecting him for the spy amongst their ranks.

Aye, he’d caught him in the end, but he should have seen what was right under his nose much sooner than he had.

And the image of watching Angus hang was an image he could never erase from his mind.

Malcolm dropped back down on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. He hated the melancholy that filled him whenever he thought of Angus. The guilt he felt even though he’d only done his duty.

But it still hurt. He took in a few deep breaths, slowly pushing them out through his mouth. With each breath out he forced a memory to leave his body with it.

These bouts of sadness and regret didn’t overtake him often anymore, but there were still times where they snuck into his mind, causing him to remember and reminding him not to give his trust to anyone.

*

Lizzie collapsed onto the bed and groaned as soon as the earl closed the door. The bed was surprisingly soft and she sunk into the thick coverlet.

She scrubbed at her face thinking about her predicament.

“Mary, what have I done?”

“Miss?” Her maid, who had been setting out Lizzie’s items for the night, paused and turned to her. “Whate’er are ye referring to?”

“Can ye imagine Mama and Papa’s reaction when we arrive back home with the earl in tow?” She sat up and crossed her legs. “Ne’er mind that we traveled with him alone all the way back from Tywnholm. They’ll also find out that I wasna visiting my friend. This is just one big mess.”

Mary put down the night chemise she’d withdrawn from Lizzie’s bag and sat down beside her, patting her leg.

“Dinna fash, Miss. Ye’re parents have always been most understanding.”

Lizzie shook her head. “No’ about this. I lied, Mary. They willna take kindly to that.”

Mary sighed, worry creasing her forehead.

Lizzie grasped her hands in hers. She knew what her maid was thinking. If Lizzie was going to pay the price for her disobedience, Mary would surely be punished as well for allowing it to happen.

“I promise ye, Mary. Naught will happen to ye. I will make sure of it. Ye only did this because I tricked ye into it. Lord kens, my parents understand me well enough. They’ll ken I left ye no choice. Ye needna fash.”

Mary gave her a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Lizzie was overcome with guilt with the realization that her actions could very well have dire consequences for Mary. But she meant her promises to her maid and planned to keep them. She would not let her lose her employment due to something that Lizzie made her do.

“Are ye hungry?” Lizzie asked brightly, hoping the change of subject would lighten the mood. “Let us get ready to eat. I dinna want to keep the earl waiting.” She lowered her voice as if he could hear them through the door and across the hall. “I’ve a feeling that he doesna appreciate tardiness.”

They both giggled and fell back on the bed together, staring at the ceiling.

“’Tis thoughtful of the earl to take the journey back to Stonehaven slow. That must mean he believes ye, aye?”

Lizzie sighed. “I dinna ken. I am no’ so certain he believes me, but it does seem that he is giving us some leeway by no’ rushing us back.”

Mary pushed herself off the bed and pulled Lizzie with her.

“Come on, Miss. Let us make ye presentable for the earl.”

“Mary,” she exclaimed. “Dinna jest with such things. I will be presentable for dinner, no’ for the earl.”

Mary lifted an eyebrow. “I am no’ blind, Miss. I see the way ye look at the man. He is quite handsome, I must admit. Even if he is a wee bit gruff.”

“Dinna forget he also thinks I’m a thief.” She laughed in disbelief. “Can ye imagine, Mary? Me as the Phantom Prowler? ’Tis comical to say the least. I could ne’er pull off such heists.”

“Truer words ye have ne’er muttered, Miss. Ye couldna e’en pull off this one.” Mary chuckled as she stuck her head in the wardrobe. “Have ye any preferences on what to wear this eve?”

Lizzie shook her head. “If I havena been in this gown for so long, I would just stay as is, but I dinna think that would be proper.” She got up and looked at her dress choices. “How about this one?” She pointed to a light-blue gown adorned with ivory-colored lace.

Mary nodded and began to work her magic. Once she was dressed, they moved onto her hair. After a badly needed brushing, Mary twisted it into a tight chignon and secured it with a ribbon that matched the blue of her dress.

“Happy?” Mary asked as she looked at her in the reflection of the looking glass.

“Once again, Mary, ye have managed a miracle.” She spun in the chair. “’Tis another reason my parents willna reprieve ye of your position. I need ye too much.”

Her maid smiled and this time, her eyes brightened with the gesture.

Lizzie really did not want Mary making herself sick of the possibility of losing her job. Her parents could be angered with her all they wanted, but she wouldna allow them to take out their frustrations on poor Mary.

A sharp knock sounded, and Lizzie jumped. “Miss Barclay,” the earl called from the hall. “Are ye ladies ready for dinner?”

Mary approached the door but looked at Lizzie before opening it, only doing so when Lizzie gave her a nod to do so.

“My lord.” Mary dipped into a curtsy when she swung the door open.

Lizzie did the same and when she lifted her head and looked at the earl, her breath hitched in her throat. He looked devastatingly dashing in his deep-green waistcoat and white ruffled shirt. Black breeches hugged his muscular thighs and Lizzie felt scandalous just noticing that fact.

“Shall we?”

She snapped her eyes to his face, and cleared her throat, nodding. “Aye, my lord.”

He offered his arm, and she took it. The contact sending frissons throughout her body. He smelled divine. As if he’d taken the best parts of the sea and the forest and blended them together to make the most satisfying scent.

Mary followed them closely as they descended the stairs and made their way to the dining hall. Even with the ire of Lizzie’s parents hanging over her head, her maid fulfilled her duty of chaperone. Lizzie was certain that would be one of the first questions her parents asked. Along with all of the obvious questions of course.

As they made their way downstairs, the most delicious aromas assaulted Lizzie’s senses. Her stomach grumbled embarrassingly, and she covered it with her hand as if the action would make the noise cease.

Beside her, the earl chuckled. “We will satisfy your hunger shortly, Lass.”

She liked when he called her lass. It did weird things to her stomach. That one simple word had way more of an impact on her than when he called her miss. It was almost as if it were more intimate.

Intimate.

She should not be thinking such thoughts of the person that could have her thrown in prison for the rest of her life. Or have her hand for stealing.

How daft did she have to be to grow feelings for the very person that held her life in his hands.

Even if those hands were very large. Very strong. Very capable.

What would it feel like to be wrapped in his warm embrace? An embrace that wasn’t prefaced by her having a fit of panic due to a storm.

Nay. A real embrace. One filled with passion, perhaps?

She almost mewled at the thought and cleared her throat to cover her reaction.

The earl looked down at her, curiosity crinkling his eyes, but he said naught as they were shown to the table and he pulled out the chair for her to sit.

Thanking him, she quickly took a sip from the glass of wine set in front of her.

’Twas going to be a long dinner.