Connor turned to her. “I willnae discuss this beyond the walls of the house. Others could be lurking about.”
“Do you see danger everywhere?” she challenged him.
“’Tis a fact of life when ye’re a MacMasters. Come inside. We’ll continue this discussion there.”
“I do not consider this a discussion. But if it pleases you, we may continue within the walls of that fortress you call a home.”
He whipped his brother a glare. “I need a word with ye.”
Gerard folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. “There is not a damned thing wrong with my hearing. Speak yer mind.”
Connor marched to where his brother stood. “Yer presence is not needed. She’s not some cow-brained lass ye need to rescue, straight into yer bed.” His rough-edged tones were low, purposefully quiet. But Johanna’s keen ears made out each word.
“To hell with ye.” Gerard snapped around and marched toward the stables.
Connor turned his gaze on his sister. “Ye need to gather another dress or two for Miss Templeton. And whatever else she might need.”
“Aye, Connor.” Maggie cast Johanna an impish smile before scurrying into the house.
Without another word, Connor led Johanna into the house and escorted her into a room lined with bookshelves from ceiling to floor. Leather-bound volumes, precisely shelved, filled the walls. Windows adorned with stained glass graced the north wall. Upon closer look, she realized the colorful panes featured skilled depictions of Highland flora and fauna, lending the room a warmth she hadn’t anticipated. A grand library, the stuff of an author’s dreams. If only she wasn’t too incensed with Connor to drink in the enchanting space.
“This room was my grandmother’s pride and joy,” he said, pride coloring his deep tones. “She was a learned woman. Independent as they come. She poured her energy into this collection.” He moved with an effortless grace to an immense mahogany desk. He leaned against the piece, deceptively relaxed. “Ye said this was not a discussion, Johanna. Ye’re right. A discussion makes sense. But the notion that I’d deliver ye to Cranston is damned absurd.”
If only he didn’t study her with such intensity, she could cast aside his remarks. As it stood, the determination in his gaze spurred a flicker of uncertainty. She extinguished it, steeling herself against him.
“I can’t say that I give a fig about yer opinion, Mr. MacMasters. I know what must be done.”
“Ye need to stay as far from that bastard as ye can. Ye’re not one of the lasses in yer tales, and I’m not some daft hero willing to die to save ye.”
Something in his eyes flashed, contradicting his words. Connor would do whatever it took to protect her. Heaven knew he’d already proven that. But he didn’t want to face that choice. She understood his reluctance, better than he believed. But that changed nothing. Even a brave, bold man like Connor MacMasters could not guarantee her niece’s safety if Cranston realized he’d come for the child in Johanna’s place.
“I don’t need you to defend me. After we find Cranston, I won’t need your help. At that point, you can turn and walk away.”
“Like hell I will. I’m no coward, lass. But I understand damned well what you’ll be dealing with, something ye dinnae ken.”
The granite set of his features made it clear he would not be swayed. Unless…unless he believed her indispensable. If only she possessed something Cranston wanted. Something beyond the book and the damnable stone.
Something precious only she could offer.
Her mind whirled. Surely the sequence of numbers her brother-in-law had noted in his correspondence was significant. Perhaps the digits were a code. Or something else, some key to the treasure Cranston was willing to kill to possess.
She’d burned the letter from Mr. Abbott. Only she knew its contents. Only she could offer that information to Laurel’s kidnapper.
She steadied her voice. Any sign of hesitation would weaken her cause. “The book is worthless to Cranston without me.”
“The man wants the stone. He knows full well what he’s after. Unless ye possess the ruby, ye’re of no use to him.”
“I’ve reason to believe there is another component…a key to the jewel’s powers, so to speak. Cranston requires my presence. There can only be one reason for his demand.”
Connor’s handsome features settled into a scowl that might’ve silenced a banshee. “What is this foolishness? This morning, ye did not believe in the stone’s powers. Now ye’re speaking of spells to control it?”
She slowly shook her head. “Not a spell. But a code.”
“Ye believe the code is a means to finding the stone?”
“Yes.”
The word hung between them for a long moment. His eyes narrowed. Hardened. “It’s written in that journal of yers?”
“Of course not. Do you take me for a fool?” She tapped a finger to her brow. “It’s right here. In my memory.”
He stared down at her. “Ye expect me to believe ye’ve been carrying around a bluidy code in yer head?”
“Precisely.” Quite a wonder her voice remained steady.
His mouth thinned. “And ye did not intend to share this revelation with me?”