He bit back a smile. Did she have any idea how damnably pretty she was when her eyes flashed like that?
“Ye dinnae think me such a fool that I’d chance ye running off with yer prize? Despite what ye may believe, I’ve a brain in this thick skull.”
“You believed I’d flee?”
“Why would I think ye wouldnae? I’m not fool enough to underestimate any lass mad enough to deal with the likes of Ross and Munro.”
“As you well know, I had little choice in the matter. Just as I have no better alternative at the moment than to remain in your presence. What have you done with the book?”
“It’s secure. Even if those bastards find their way in here, they won’t get to it.”
The fire in her eyes softened. Emotion turned her irises a stormy blue gray. What had come over her? She’d faced danger without cowering, but now, the realization that he’d tricked her threatened to set her to weeping. Confounding woman. He’d never understand the likes of her.
He watched her gulp. Had she choked back tears? When she met his gaze, her eyes still shimmered.
“If any harm comes to that volume—or my niece—the guilt will lie on your shoulders.” Her voice did not waver.
“Your precious Frankenstein will come to no harm. For now.” The words slipped easily off his tongue. Not a falsehood. Not exactly. He’d no intention of tearing the tome apart in his quest. That honor would belong to his sister, Serena. If anything was hidden within the book’s pages, the canny scholar would be the one to detect it.
Anger hardened her sapphire gaze. “Very well. I’ve no choice but to go along with you. For now.”
Chapter Eleven
Connor stalked from the room to summon Harrison. His brother leaned against the kitchen doorway, devouring a square of Mrs. Duncan’s shortbread. The woman’s ability to blend a bit of flour, sugar, and butter into a near delicacy more than compensated for her less-than-proper demeanor.
A smile tugged at Connor’s mouth. God above, the biddy had shocked even him with her commentary on Johanna’s escape route. As for Johanna…well, the lass had gone six shades of red, that sweet mouth of hers pulled into a stunned O. If he lived to be a very old man, he doubted he’d forget the look on her beautiful face.
“You think it’s wise to leave Miss Templeton in reach of a window?” Harrison’s question came between bites of shortbread.
“She’s not going anywhere. Not now.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
“She knows those bastards are after her.” He met Harrison’s questioning stare. “As it turns out, she has good cause to be desperate. We will head out in the morning. She’ll need a bed for the night.”
“You believe it’s wise to leave so soon? Cranston’s thugs may still be in the area.”
“We dinnae have a choice. A bairn’s life is at stake.”
Harrison cocked his head. “A child?”
“The damnable fool brought his daughter to the Highlands. Cranston has her.”
Ever skeptical, Harrison cocked a brow. “You now believe Miss Templeton is telling the truth?”
“Aye, I do. If the lass is lying to me, a more convincing act I’ve never witnessed.”
Harrison stroked his jaw as he offered a solemn nod. “Bluidy hell, it all makes sense now.”
“What was the man thinking, involving his own child in his schemes?”
“Greed can make a man irrational. So can fear.” As usual, Harrison was the voice of reason. “I take it you’re heading to the castle.”
“What better place to pursue this matter?”
His brother shrugged. “For Miss Templeton’s sake, you’d be better advised to shelter her here while you await firm intelligence. You don’t know what you’re dealing with—Cranston may not be the only jackal involved in this scheme.”
“That willnae work. That blasted book is a ransom. Operatives have tracked Cranston to a village near Loch Ness. Miss Templeton is expected to seek him out. We wouldnae want to disappoint the son of a bitch.”
…
Since arriving in the Highlands, Johanna had faced armed villains and a roguish devil who might well be her hero. Or her downfall. Somehow, she’d managed to rein in her distress without shattering into a million sobs. So how was it that a bird-thin housekeeper’s cagey stare threatened to unnerve her?
Mrs. Duncan planted her fists on her narrow hips and canted her head, surveying Johanna with a look that spoke louder than the words uttered by her pinched lips. “Dr. MacMasters asked me t’settle ye in a chamber for the night.”
“Thank you, but that’s quite unnecessary. I doubt I’ll sleep.”
“What ye do when ye’re in there is yer concern, lass. But the doctor—”
“Is there a problem?” Harrison entered the study.
“Not of this woman’s making,” Johanna said, meeting the physician’s questioning gaze. “I see no need to trouble her with preparing a room. I’ll be no more comfortable in a chamber than I am here.”