Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (14 page)

Aye, he thought as he gave the reins a small flick to encourage the horse into a faster
gait, these next two weeks were indeed going to be long ones.

And then she started to hum again, another lilting melody so sweet it put the birds
to shame.

Repressing a smile, he settled back to listen.

T
he inn hummed with noise and commotion, the narrow wooden tables inside the taproom
filled to capacity with travelers and locals alike. A bluish haze of smoke coiled
like vines along the timbered ceiling, the air pungent with the scents of ale, wood
smoke, and human sweat.

A serving maid wove sleekly as a cat through the crowd, delivering drinks and food
and taking orders for more. Smeek watched from his spot in the farthest corner—a position
that afforded him an excellent view of not only the public room but the main entry
beyond through which any newcomers would arrive.

Useless waste of time if you asked him. Then again, he wasn’t the boss, so his opinion
didn’t count. He’d been around long enough to know when to open his mouth, and far
more important, when to keep it shut.

So he’d done as he was told when he’d been sent here to keep a lookout on the off
chance the girl showed up. But what were the odds of that? No one had seen so much
as a glimpse of her little satin slippers after she’d vanished into the woods. Amazing,
that, really, considering who she was.
Who’d have thought some highborn chit like that could give five grown men the slip?

Even now, it made his stomach twist and his skin go all damp remembering how bad it
had been when they’d had to tell the boss they’d lost her. Damned lucky they were
to still be breathing—’cepting Hicks, of course.

He’d been the second-in-command, but he weren’t no more. He’d learned his last lesson
about failure at the end of the boss’s pistol. One shot straight through the head
without so much as a word beforehand. One minute Hicks had been explaining his plan
to locate the girl again; the next he’d been lying flat on the floor, half his brains
splattered behind him.

The boss hadn’t so much as blinked, but had calmly chosen another man to fill Hicks’s
shoes. Couldn’t say the bloke had looked too thrilled by his move up.

The boss sure was a cold bastard, and after growing up hard as he had, Smeek had known
his fair share of bastards. Unlike most violent men, the boss did not yell, but they’d
all started shaking just from the look in his eyes when he’d found out what had happened
during the attack.

“What do you mean you had to kill them all?” he’d said in a smooth, mildly accented
voice that had sent shivers down Smeek’s back for all its calm. “The plan was to kill
only the guards and take the others to the abandoned crofter’s hut. Why were my instructions
disobeyed?”

“The old man had a sword, knew how to use it too. He cut Benji down and was going
after one of the others when Hicks shot him.”

The boss cast an emotionless glance at the body on the floor. “Ah yes, the unfortunate
Mr. Hicks. Were he not dead already, I would kill him for that alone. And the rest?
The servants? The princess?”

“Well, the boys got carried away in the thick of it,” said the new second-in-command.
“You know how it is.”

The boss said nothing, his eyes black as night.

“A-as for the princess, she got away, like we told you already. But we’ll find her.”

“Yes,” the boss said. “You will find her. But first clean up this mess like you did
the other. And make sure you leave nothing behind to draw unwanted attention.”

So, of course, wouldn’t you know, he’d been the one stuck with the job. Not that he
hadn’t done things of that sort before, but never so many bodies in so short a time.

They’d all cleaned up after the attack. Luckily the rainstorm had washed the blood
from the road. It had also discouraged unwanted passersby from stumbling upon them
while they’d put the bodies inside the coaches and driven them to a remote location
where no one would think anything of a span of newly turned earth. The remains buried,
they’d burned the coaches once the rain stopped, so there would be no trace of their
botched plan.

And botched it had been—royally.

He smirked at the pun and took a long pull on his tankard of ale. He’d just drained
the last pleasantly bitter gulp, and was thinking about calling the serving maid over
to order another, when the inn door opened and a couple walked inside.

He glanced up without much interest, then nearly choked, ale spraying over his front,
his eyes straining half out of his face when he saw the young woman.

No, it can’t be,
he thought.

Fumbling inside his jacket, he drew out the copy of the drawing that he had been given.
He studied the princess’s likeness, then studied the young woman standing a few feet
distant.

His heart kicked into an excited rhythm as a slow smile spread across his face. There’d
be a reward in this for sure.

He started up from the table, already calculating the best way to get her outside
and into a carriage without attracting attention, when he suddenly noticed her companion.

He sat back down.

The man with her was tall and lean, obviously Scottish given the kilt he wore and
the deep auburn color of his hair. Despite his rangy build, he looked more than capable
of
holding his own in a fight and inflicting substantial damage along the way.

Smeek cursed silently, knowing he would have to rethink his original plan to grab
her at the first opportunity.

So the little royal had acquired a protector, had she? Smart of her, assuming she
could trust him, that is.

Fleetingly, he wondered if the man could be bought, for the right price, of course.
But in the next moment, the Scot took hold of her elbow and drew her close with a
proprietary gesture that sent an unmistakable warning to every man in the room.

Keep away,
it said.
She’s mine.

As for the little royal, she didn’t resist the intimacy, appearing comfortably pliant
within his grasp while she waited for the Scot and the innkeeper to talk.

Interesting. So there was more to the relationship than mere convenience. Well, it
wasn’t any of his business if the little royal had let herself be seduced. The boss
had other plans for her anyway.

Which brought Smeek full circle back to his own difficulties.

Retrieving her should have been easy, but no two ways around it, the Scot complicated
matters. Smeek could always go ahead and take a try at snatching her, but only look
where independent thinking had gotten Hicks.

No, he thought, as he leaned deeper into his corner, better to send word that he’d
sighted her and wait for further instructions. A messenger would take a note to the
new second and he could be the one to make the decision—and take the blame if anything
went wrong. In the meantime, he would keep watch and wait.

Now, or two days from now, the amount of time would make no particular difference
in the end. The boss wanted the girl, and once they had her in hand, he would be satisfied.
Smeek could collect his pay and head south to more hospitable climes where the luxuries
were plentiful and the women as willing as they came. Not like these Highland wenches
who charged double to bed an outlander and kicked him out come first light without
so much as a parting kiss.

No, once he had the little royal in his grasp, everything would be good again.

Without giving the appearance of watchfulness, Daniel studied the room and the crowds
gathered in the common area beyond.

It was a habit he’d developed during the war, an ability to be keenly aware of everything
and everyone around him that had kept him on the right side of an attack more than
once over the years. It could also be a burden, since the heightened sense of awareness
meant he was never able to fully relax no matter his surroundings, never able to just
be in a place without first analyzing it for potential threats and strategic advantages.

Maybe after he returned home and had been peacefully settled there for several years,
the reflex would cease to function in such an automatic way. Until then he would just
have to accept it as a part of himself, rather like blinking or breathing, and use
it to his benefit as much as he required.

For the most part, the crowd was lively and full of harmless revelers who wanted only
a drink, a meal, and a bit of company. A pair of fat-bellied drunks ogled the serving
maid, bickering good-naturedly in loud tones about which one of them was going to
get to take her to bed. One look at the maid’s face and Daniel knew that both men
were in for a very disappointing night. A family of four—mother, father, and two young
sons—did their best to remain inconspicuous while they ate their dinner, the mother
glancing around every now and again as if she wanted to box someone’s ears for an
impertinent comment.

And then there was the short, rabbity-looking man in the corner who kept staring at
Mercedes. Daniel didn’t like him; he had shifty gray eyes and skin that looked as
if he’d gone through a bout of smallpox as a child. The man tried hard to pretend
he wasn’t looking at her, but he was.

Why? What did he want?

Then one of the drunks called to the waitress and Daniel pushed aside his suspicion.
Mercedes was pretty, uncommonly so. The man must like what he saw, his gaze drawn
to her time and time again.

I certainly know how that feels,
Daniel thought. When it came to Mercedes, it really was hard not to stare.

Nonetheless, he took hold of her elbow and drew her close against him. She glanced
up, surprise in her dark gaze. But she didn’t try to pull away, standing acquiescent
as she allowed the small intimacy.

“Aye, that’s right. We want a private parlor and lodgings for the night,” Daniel said
in confirmation of the innkeeper’s last question. Satisfied that he and Mercedes were
in no immediate danger, he focused his attention squarely on their host.

“I have a fine bedchamber set aside for you and yer lady,” the man said, showering
them with a wide, accommodating smile that displayed his mouthful of large, crooked
teeth. “The biggest in the house. I think you’ll be most comfortable there.”

“Oh, but we’re not—” Mercedes began.

“It sounds excellent,” Daniel interrupted, giving her elbow a warning squeeze.

She shot him a look, but wisely said nothing further.

“However, we would like two rooms,” Daniel continued. “Connecting, if that’s possible.”

“Two rooms?” The innkeeper frowned, his gaze shifting back and forth between them
as he considered this new request. Then suddenly his expression cleared, his gaze
on Daniel. “Snore, do ye?”

Daniel paused, then shrugged, as if he had been fairly caught.

The other man laughed. “M’wife’s the same. Only she’s the one who makes all the racket.
Just doona tell her I said so.”

“Not a word,” Daniel promised with mock seriousness.

Mercedes stared, but in spite of her own serious look, her lips twitched.

“Now if we might see those rooms?” Daniel encouraged.

“Och, aye, of course,” the other man agreed, all solicitousness. His wide toothy smile
returned, making Daniel wonder whether the man had only just realized he would be
earning double the profit now that he had hired out two bedchambers instead of one.

“We’d like dinner in the private parlor as soon as it can be arranged,” Daniel said.

“Yes, yes. I shall have the cook make you a fine meal. Only the best.”

That, Daniel mused, remained to be seen.

The innkeeper moved quickly away, returning with a pair of small iron keys in hand.
“If you’ll just follow me.”

Daniel released Mercedes’s elbow so she could walk after their host as he moved toward
the narrow set of stairs that hugged the far wall. As Daniel made to follow, he gave
the busy common room one last sweeping glance.

The rabbity man was still staring at her.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed and abruptly he was glad he’d insisted on connecting rooms.
He didn’t know if the man’s interest was just simple admiration for Mercedes or something
more. Whatever it might be, Daniel was going to make sure she was never left alone—not
even if his own unsatisfied desire threatened to drive him mad.

Striding forward, he followed the others up the stairs.

Mercedes waited in silence while the innkeeper showed them all the best features of
both rooms. She had to force down a blush when he crassly pointed out the fact that
the bed in the second room was larger and had better springs.

She was beginning to wonder if he would ever depart when he finally gave a bow and
promised to go see about their meal. “If there is anything else I can do, you have
only to ask.” With another bow, he moved into the hall and closed the door behind
him.

She said nothing, listening until his footsteps faded away. Then she rounded on Daniel.
“That man believes we are married.”

Daniel met her gaze. “You’re right; he does.”

“But—but—”

“Would you prefer that he think ye’re my mistress?”

This time she couldn’t control her blush, warmth spreading through her cheeks as if
they’d caught on fire. “No, of course not.”

“Then it’s better to let him think what he likes. No harm done.” He turned and strode
into the adjoining bedchamber, tugging at his neckcloth as he went.

She followed, stopping just inside the doorway. “It still isn’t right. You could have
told him…” She paused, mulling over the possibilities. “You could have said that we
are brother and sister.”

Daniel raised a single, dark red eyebrow. “I could, but he would ne’er have believed
it. For one, we look nothing alike. For another, ye sound about as Scottish as I do
Sassenach.”

He pulled off his jacket and tossed it across the bed, leaving him in shirtsleeves.

She did her best to ignore his casual attire.