“By heavens," she burst out. "I am not Heddy.”
“No?” he murmured. When she gave a frustrated growl, he rose. “Well then—" He yanked her against him.
His mouth crashed down on hers and she froze. One arm slipped around her waist while the other cupped her neck. She gasped, but he hugged her closer. His tongue invaded her mouth, the taste of him, shocking and intoxicating. His arm tightened, but the kiss, the thrust of his tongue, softened to a feathery touch. He shuddered, and her heart leapt into a furious rhythm.
His mouth moved slowly against her lips. She became aware of the hard bulge pressing against her abdomen and clutched at his shoulders. Heat streaked from the unexpected throb in her breasts to her stomach, then lower. He abruptly tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck. Phoebe swayed. His low laugh washed warm across her ear and she shivered.
“You temptress,” he breathed. “I understand what Regan sees in you.”
“Just because I borrowed Heddy's coach doesn't mean I am her,” she said through a gulp of air.
Kiernan straightened away from her and stared down at her, eyes intense. “I wonder if Regan would believe me if I swore I didn’t know you're his lover." His gaze slid down her body, and she couldn't find the will to turn away as his eyes lifted again to her face. "You make testing the theory tempting. In fact—"
His fingers tightened on her arms and she realized he intended to test the theory that instant.
Her head swam. A mental picture rose of Kiernan's large hands on her naked breasts, his mouth—Phoebe managed the presence of mind to tug free of his grasp. “I-I care nothing for what Lord Stoneleigh believes.”
Kiernan tweaked a lock of her hair. “I think you do, sweetheart.”
She feared her knees would buckle. By heavens, she had to get away from the man. Despite the shakiness in her legs, Phoebe crossed to the window and stared out at the road leading to the trees in the distance. “What have you done with the prisoners?”
“Prisoners?” The lazy drawl had returned to his voice.
Phoebe turned. “You freed them, didn't you?” But he had said as much a moment ago. He'd been in a rage when Robbie threatened to shoot her, then he had let them go. Why? “You have made yourself a conspirator to an assassination attempt,” she said.
“I had hoped Regan would meet us here," he said, "but I can't wait any longer. I must press north. Connor will be here to see you early this morning. If he says you can ride, we'll travel together.”
How was she going to escape him and get word to Alistair of the plan to assassinate the duchess? Phoebe closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Are you ill, Heddy?”
“There's a good chance I will be.”
“Shall I fetch the chamber pot?”
“Only if you wish me to brain you with it.” She looked at him. “Don't you understand what this means?”
“That you are ill, or that you wish to do me bodily harm?”
“Lord Stoneleigh isn't coming—because I am not Hester.”
“If that is true, when I return, you and I will get better acquainted.”
Her pulse quickened. “It is imperative I return home.”
“And I must continue north,” he replied.
Why force her to go with him? At this point, his attempt to play cupid was dashed. Had he come to doubt she was Heddy? Surely he wasn't serious about getting better acquainted? He'd said he'd planned to secure an introduction at Drucilla’s soirée.
“What is so pressing that you must return to Edinburgh, Heddy?”
She shook her head. “Not Edinburgh, England.”
“England, then?”
“What awaits you in the north?” she said. “You don't strike me as a man displaced from his home.”
“My home is nowhere near the duchess.”
“I see.” Phoebe nodded. “Kidnapping women, stalking robbers in the night, dabbling in murder conspiracies, it is you who suffers a nasty case of ennui.”
“But you have solved that problem, my dear,” he replied.
“Lord Stoneleigh won't appreciate you kidnapping me,” she shot back in desperation. By now her uncle must know she was missing. If he was on following her as he had been she’d eloped with Brandon, Kiernan MacGregor was likely to receive a bullet through his heart.
“So my money isn't enough, then?” Kiernan said.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. Perhaps he deserved the bullet.
*****
Baron Ty Arlington closed the door to his mother's bedchambers as he entered. She sat on the settee overlooking the small garden in their Carlisle home, and looked up. The smile on her face faltered.
He strode to her, his fury barely held in check. "Where is Phoebe, mother?"
"W-what? How should I know?"
"She's been missing four days. Don't toy with me. I'll wring your beautiful neck, then make sure your precious Clive hangs for your murder."
Her eyes widened. "Ty, I don't know what you mean by Clive—"