Secrets to Seducing a Scot

TWENTY-SIX

The household returned from a daybreak search of the grounds with no evidence of Earlington Marsh or his captors.

Malcolm changed to his black kilt and plaid, and began to load up the ambassador’s town coach. The boot took a large basket of provisions provided by Mrs. Walker, a valise of Serena’s, one for himself, and a small case containing some clothes for Serena’s father.

Serena came out of the house. For once, she carried no parasol and wore no bonnet. She was dressed in a simple blue printed muslin dress, with a matching spencer and sensible shoes. Her long blond hair was pinned up, but hastily so. Malcolm couldn’t help reckoning that even in plain clothes and a slapdash hairstyle, Serena was a vision of loveliness. In fact, he liked the look of her even more.

Malcolm attempted to ensconce her inside the coach, but she would have none of it, insisting instead on riding beside him in the driver’s seat. With a flick of the reins, Malcolm urged the pair of grays forward.

“Which of Brandubh McCullough’s holdings will we try first, Malcolm?”

While her intention to search for her father was ill conceived and ill advised, Malcolm would give it this much credit: The two of them alone stood a greater chance of finding the ambassador than did an entire army of British redcoats marching through the Highlands.

“None of them … yet. It won’t do to go off in the hunt for a needle in an entire field of haystacks. I think we should first narrow down our search to a single haystack.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“I have a friend who lives near Cannich. If anyone knows where yer father’s been taken, McLeish does. And what’s more, he’d tell me.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say that I’d be paying him in his own coin. McLeish is not yer typical Scotsman. He sort of dances upon the fringe of society, if ye take my meaning.”

“A criminal, you mean?”

“Aye. But I wouldna use that word in front of him. He’s … had his hand in a colorful array of clandestine activities.”

Serena shook her head. “You keep company with strange sorts.”

“I keep company with all sorts of sorts. Even saucy, crabbit scolds like ye.” He cast her a smug look.

She gave him a sidewise glance. “Quel drôle. Was that the pinnacle of your wit?”

His smiling eyes looked back out over the horses’ heads. A steady wind pushed onto the coach, and Serena lifted the collar of her blue velvet spencer.

“How long will it take to get there, do you think?”

“Depends on the length of our horses’ legs. But we should be arriving in Cannich by nightfall.”

Malcolm felt Serena tuck in against him for warmth, wrapping her arm through his elbow, and it filled him with a dense happiness. It was such a rare sensation for him. Her touch aroused more than just his desire. It also aroused his heart.

“I’ll be so happy when my father is found.” She laid her head on his shoulder as she gazed out at the countryside. “He doesn’t deserve what’s been done to him here. It was he who tried to get me to appreciate Scotland. A place of extremes, he called it. When it’s cold, it’s freezing. When it rains, it’s a deluge. And when it’s beautiful, it is sublimely so.”

He chased her gaze toward the horizon. The narrow one-carriage road was intermittently canopied by copper and silver beeches, and sunlight slid through the branches, dappling their path. On one side of the rutted road, the landscape mounded upward toward green hills, which were crowned with layers of fir trees. A clear-water burn ran along the other side of the road. The cool air was perfumed with the green scent of grass and trees, and the grating caw of crows could be heard in the distance.

“It is beautiful.” And so are you, he wanted to say. The mosaic landscapes of his homeland were all reminiscent of Serena. The thick yellow gorse reminded Malcolm of Serena’s vivid blond hair, the thistle in bloom reminded him of her regal beauty and prickly nature, and even the vast yellow fields of rapeseed called to mind visions of them both engaged in ruthless lust …

“Perhaps I have been too shortsighted after all,” she said. “With all its beauty of architecture and formal gardens, there is nothing in all of London to match the simple majesty of this scenery.”

The mere mention of London brought forth an angry sigh from Malcolm. He’d never been to that city, but he already hated it because it threatened to take her away. “And yet ye miss it.”

“I must admit, yes. There was an uncompromising elegance about my life there. Did you know that in my home, there are twenty-five sets of dishes? You could stay a whole month and never eat off the same dishes twice.”

He doubted he’d ever get the chance to see for himself. The likelihood of Serena Marsh asking Malcolm Slayter to stay at her home in London was practically nonexistent. “Seems an awful waste, if ye ask me. Ye only need one.”

Serena grew pensive. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it is ostentatious. It’s the thing, you see. One feels compelled to exhibit one’s wealth. Seems ludicrous now. I wouldn’t trade my father’s well-being for all the place settings in Great Britain.” She sighed. “London has a way of making you feel as though you’re more important somehow. Here, though, you are forced to see yourself as you truly are.” Her voice trailed off.

“And Archer Weston? How did he see ye?”

Her hand in the crook of his elbow stiffened. He turned to look at her, and her countenance had fallen.

“I suppose I was yet another one of those glittering fantasies that vanish once you peer too closely.” She sighed, lost in contemplation. “It’s a great pity, really. I found Archer to be very different from most of the gentlemen I know. For a start, he’s a man of intellect, not of leisure. He’s the first man I’d met who seemed like he could actually change the world if he wanted to. And we were excellent friends. But try as I might, I couldn’t make him love me.”

“Make him love ye? Why should ye have to try? Either someone loves ye or they do no’.”

“It’s not that simple. Men see women through the eyes of other men. They’re very competitive creatures. A man wants a woman on his arm who will be the envy of all the men in the room. He revels in the triumph of having acquired her.”

“That’s no’ a very flattering picture of us.”

“An accurate one, nonetheless. Archer is simply one of those men who needs to feel as if he’s somehow achieved a woman.” Serena looked down at her lap. “But this morning, it became evident that I could never be that prize for him. I always suspected that his profession was more of a religion to him, but when he chose the publication of his headlines over helping me find my father, I knew I had failed. I was simply not charming enough, nor popular enough, nor pretty enough to get him to fall in love with me.”

Malcolm was silent for a few moments as he tried to stem the flow of anger. “That’s the biggest load of havers I’ve ever heard. Serena, those things are just trappings. Charm is misleading. Popularity wanes. And even yer beauty will one day fade. What remains is what is the true prize. Ye. Just ye. And that ought to be enough for any man.” He placed his hand on her face. “And if that peacock of a suitor of yers can’t see that, then … yer Archer missed the mark.”

She chuckled halfheartedly at his offhand quip. “One thing I do know. Archer and his words, they’re … invisible. But your presence here with me, now, when I needed someone the most … this is very real.” She placed a gloved hand on top of his.

Mrs. Walker’s advice came floating back to him. If ye want to get on the right side of Miss Marsh, ye’ve got to show her how ye feel. Not in a way that any man can do, and certainly not in words. Did Serena understand the depth of his feelings for her?

“Ye’ve got yer besom ways about ye, Serena Marsh. But I care for ye. Just the way ye are.”

Sunlight sparkled on the tiny droplets forming in her moist eyes. “You do?”

He smiled. “Aye.” He bowed his head, touching his lips to hers. So soft, so open. He swept in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper. He closed his eyes to savor the sensation of her lips caressing his. God, what heaven this was, to be kissed by such a woman. It fed something deep within him, as the first drops of rain on parched soil. Serena responded by caressing the hair at the back of his head, which invoked a thread of pleasure that wended all the way down to the area between his legs.

He let his mouth trail down to her alabaster neck. Her skin smelled of rose, jasmine, and lavender, and he inhaled deeply the soft, feminine scent. He kissed the V at the base of her throat, and his lips sensed her heart beat faster. She made a sound, a pleading mewl. She had slipped a hand from its glove and threaded her fingers through his hair. The sensation of her nails on his scalp sparked a powerful hunger for her.

Suddenly the carriage lurched, and he and Serena were shaken from their embrace. The carriage stopped dead.

“What was that?” asked Serena, straightening in the seat.

He didn’t know. He looked around for the reins, which he’d let slip from his hand. Finally, he spotted them on the floor of the carriage. But just as he reached down to pick them up, the carriage tilted sideways.

Serena shrieked, and so did one of the horses. One of the wheels had rolled onto loose ground that now began to collapse. Malcolm looked beyond Serena seated beside him and was chilled at the sickening sight.

The carriage was tipping down a deep ravine.

And below, the steep rocky slope crumbled into the churning water.

Instinctively, Malcolm latched onto Serena. Fear was in her eyes as she looked over the edge down at the dangerous outcropping. The team pawed at the ground, fighting the anchoring weight.

“Serena, don’t look down. Step across me.” But the instant he said it, there was a terrifying crunch as the wheel snapped off, sliding the rear-heavy carriage farther down the embankment.

The horses neighed in panic as they were dragged down with the carriage. Serena lost her foothold and screamed as she dangled precariously over the edge of the dashboard. Malcolm held on to the seat rail above him, holding Serena against his chest.

“Climb over me!” he shouted as he lifted his knee to support her. Every muscle in his body ached with the strain of holding on while hauling Serena up over the side of the overturning vehicle. With all the strength she could muster, Serena lifted herself up along his body, and scrambled onto the edge of the disappearing ground.

He felt an immense relief at seeing her to safety. But now he had to rescue himself. If he fell, he would become part of the Highland scenery forever. His arms and shoulders were drained from the effort of hanging on to the seat rail, and his sweaty palms were making the bar too slippery to hold on to much longer.

He brought both hands together and pulled. He lifted his body closer to the edge of the carriage. The horses’ rear legs were tearing up the loose rocks, kicking stones and dirt into Malcolm’s face as he tried to lift himself over the edge.

Suddenly, one after the other, the shafts snapped, jackknifing the carriage and jarring Malcolm’s hold. The team and crippled carriage slid farther down the gully. Vainly, the harnessed horses tried to claw their way out, but the immobilized carriage could not roll up the steep incline.

Malcolm braced for the shattering impact on the rocks below. Only one vision filled his thoughts—Serena.

And then he saw her. The carriage had slowed, caught on a fallen tree trunk. Serena was climbing down the brae, hanging on to bushes and tree branches.

“Serena, no!” he screamed. At worst, she’d fall into the ravine with him, and at best she’d watch him die. But she was driven by pure instinct. She gripped the horse’s harness and unbuckled the trace that strapped its harness to the carriage.

“The reins, Malcolm!” she shouted. “Grab hold of the reins!”

He saw one dangling by his side, but if he let go of the rail to take it, he didn’t think he could hold on.

“Hurry!” she shouted as she went to release the other trace.

Malcolm’s life depended on whether he could reach the reins. His muscles screamed in pain as he used his leg to bring the leather strap closer. Finally, it was close enough for him to reach.

“Now, Malcolm!”

With supreme force of will, he let one hand go of the carriage and gripped the rein. Once the horses were freed from the weight, they were able to climb. The carriage skated out from beneath him down the rock face just as he was being dragged up the cliff.

Stones and loose debris raked his skin, but he would not let go. The horses continued to climb higher up the brae. A sickening crash on the riverbed below filled his ears. When they were finally on level ground, he let go the reins and let the pair run on.

He lay panting on the ground, grimacing at the sharp pain firing throughout his body. But Serena—he had to find out if she was all right.

He clambered to his feet and staggered toward the edge. Below, the carriage had splintered on the rocks. “Serena!”

There was no answer. A feeling of dread drained him. Not since he witnessed the lifeless bodies of his parents and brothers had he felt so much loss. If anything happened to Serena, he’d go mad. “Serena!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

A voice came from far below. “I’m here!”

Then he saw her, a tiny form leaning on a sapling that angled upward from the slope. So far away. “Are ye hurt?”

“No. Are you?”

The relief of seeing her brought him to his knees. But as the tension and dread wore off, the pain escalated. He took stock of his injuries. He was bleeding from abrasions all along his left side, there was a nasty goose egg developing somewhere on his grit-dusted head, and his arms were killing him. “I’ll live.”

“I love you.” The words floated up through the trees. Malcolm never thought to hear that from the mouth of any woman, let alone Miss Serena Marsh. It filled his body with warmth, and made his heart lighter than the ether. She’d saved his life. And now she’d saved his soul.

“I love ye, too.” He wished she were right there beside him, to be able to take her in his arms and show her what those words meant to him. To see her smile and read her eyes, and prove to her that her vulnerability was safe with him. Damned if the thought of it didn’t take every last bit of pain away!

But now there was the problem of how to get Serena out of the gully. He had no rope and no tools, only a battered body. There was no way of telling how far it was until the road connected with the river once more.

“Stay put,” he called down to her. “I’ll think of a way to get ye up.”

“No, Malcolm,” she responded, her voice nearly muffled over the rushing water. “I have to climb down.”

“What?”

“My father’s medicine is in the wreckage below. I have to retrieve it before the river washes it away.”

“Ye’ll do no such damn thing!” He wasn’t about to let her risk her life … again. Beyond the small figure in the blue dress the terrain was rocky, gnarled, and difficult to negotiate. Any false step would result in a death slide.

“I must!”

He held up both hands. “All right. I’ll get the medicine. Just stay where ye are.”

There was no way Malcolm could get Serena out of the gully. He would have to find a way to go in.