“This seems a peculiar time to be concerned with one’s finances.”
“This debt has nothing to do with money.” Freeing the latch, he opened the door. “Keep this locked. No one but me is to enter.”
He headed down the stairs and spotted Finn McKittrick in the kitchen, helping himself to a carrot his wife had peeled for the night’s stew. Never one for pleasantries, the operative eyed Connor with an impatience he didn’t try to hide. “Brenna tells me ye’ve brought a woman.”
“She’s under my protection.”
“What do we need to know?”
“Just that. I’m responsible for her safety.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Ye bring danger under my roof, and ye don’t care t’tell me why? If I didn’t owe ye—”
“But ye do. So ye’re going to do yer best to help me keep this lass safe.”
McKittrick gave his head a rough shake. “I need to know why ye’re here, MacMasters. Who’s after her?”
Connor debated his response. He trusted Finn McKittrick and his wife. To a point.
“Geoffrey Cranston,” he said finally. If the bastard’s men came after Johanna, Finn and Brenna would need to be prepared.
“Bollocks. Ye know how t’bring yerself trouble, don’t ye?”
“It cannae be helped. I need to know that I can count on ye. If not, we’ll be on our way.”
McKittrick snatched up another carrot. “No need t’be an arse. Ye know our doors will always be open t’ye. We wouldn’t turn a MacMasters away.”
Brenna strolled back into the kitchen, a freshly plucked chicken in hand. She shot her husband a cool glance. “Of course they’ll stay. We know how to deal with the likes of thievin’, cheatin’ bastards like Cranston. Now, what can we do to help the lass? She looks like she hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days.”
“She’s had a rough go of it,” Connor agreed. “But she’s got steel in that spine of hers.”
“Dealing with the likes of ye, she’ll need it.” Finn’s tone contained no trace of humor. “What do ye need from us?”
“More wood for the fireplace, some food in our bellies, and a bit of sleep, and we’ll be on our way in the morn.” Connor leaned against a sturdy table, stretching out his legs. “Have ye heard any talk of other collectors in these parts?”
Brenna cocked her head. “Rumor has it an Englishwoman with some highbrow title has people scouring these parts for pieces connected to the Scottish queen. Mary’s jewels are of particular interest, or so I hear.”
The countess. So, Ella Kirkbride was searching the Highlands. “Is she in Scotland now?”
“I’ve no knowledge of that, luv,” Brenna said quickly. Too quickly.
“A man was here about a fortnight ago. A Londoner, I’d say. Dressed fine as they come.” Finn scratched his chin. “Nervous sort of gent. He didn’t stay. He and his bairn ate supper, then went on their way.”
A bairn? The revelation slammed into Connor. “He was traveling with a child?”
“Aye, such a bonny little lass with those big, brown eyes of hers,” Brenna spoke up. “Dark hair. Very quiet. Scarcely ate two bites.”
Good God. Had Richard Abbott been here with his daughter? “Were they alone?”
“Aye.” Finn wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “He didn’t talk much. Friendly enough, but edgy as a hare with a hound on its heels. He said the child was hungry and he wished to purchase supper. Then he went on his way.”
Brenna’s mouth thinned. Was it Connor’s imagination, or had she grown tense? “Do ye know the man?”
“’Tis a possibility.”
Brenna placed a kettle on to boil. “I’ll have tea and biscuits for ye shortly,” she said, changing the subject. “I’ll soon have the stew simmering in the pot.”
“Ye have my gratitude,” Connor said. “I’m sure Johanna will welcome something warm in her stomach.”
“Will the lass be welcoming something warm in her bed tonight?” Brenna teased.
A smile escaped Connor’s careful control. “I’d be in worse shape than that creature in the stewpot if I tried that. I’d like to hold onto all my parts, if ye take my meaning.”
Brenna grinned even as Finn threw him a glare. “So, ye’ve become a gentleman? I’ve no need to lock my chamber maid away from ye?”
“Bah,” Finn spoke up, humor flavoring his tone. “A MacMasters will never reform. I’m sorely tempted to bar my door to the scoundrel just t’keep him away from ye.”
Despite the laughter on his old friend’s lips, Connor spotted something less than jovial in Finn’s eyes. Amazing, how possessive the bloke had grown since giving Brenna his name. It was time for Connor to make his exit.
“Ye’ve no worries on that account, McKittrick. I’ve no energy left in my bones for a woman, no matter how bonny.” Connor headed to the door. He’d gather the firewood he’d come after and be on his way back to Johanna.
“Not even that lovely lass upstairs?” Brenna said with a sly grin.
He cast her a scowl. “Especially not her.”
Damn shame he couldn’t convince himself he meant it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven