Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (5 page)

She was out of bed before she even knew she’d moved.

“Major,” she called as loudly as she dared, rapping her fist frantically against the
wall behind her bed. “Major MacKinnon. Major, can you hear me?”

She heard bedsprings squeak. “Aye, lass. These walls are as thin as paper. What’s
amiss?”

“I heard a noise, like someone is trying to get in. Could you…could you come over?”

“Don’t unlock the door until I get there,” he told her with commanding urgency in
his voice.

Unlock the door?
What kind of idiot did he imagine her to be?

She waited, afraid to glance toward the window in case there really was someone lurking
on the other side.

In what seemed barely a few seconds, she heard his knock. “It’s MacKinnon. Let me
in.”

With shaking fingers, she hurried to the door, pulled back the bolt, and twisted open
the lock.

Daniel stood on the other side, his thick auburn hair tousled with sleep, rough whiskers
shadowing the strong line of his jaw. He’d clearly dressed in haste, attired in a
red and green tartan kilt and a loose white cotton shirt that hung open at the throat.
He’d slipped on a pair of tall boots as well, the leather supple with use and age.

She pulled the door wider and stepped aside to let him in, closing and locking it
again the moment he was through.

“Ye said you heard a noise. What sort and where?”

“From the window. It was a kind of grating, scratching sound that awakened me.”

He went to the window and peered out, looking down into the inn’s darkened side yard.
He made what seemed to be a thorough inspection. Next, he rattled the window latch,
testing the metal to make sure the hinge was fastened tight.

“I’m going below to check the yard,” he told her. “I don’t think anyone is there,
but I’ll take a look just to make certain.”

“But…But what if someone
is
there? What if they try to hurt you?” She couldn’t help thinking of her cousin and
her guard—all the brave men who had died to protect her.

The expression in MacKinnon’s green eyes was reassuring. “Doona fret yerself. I’m
well trained for such situations and this is naught but a precaution. Be sure to lock
up after me.”

“You will come back to let me know what you found, will you not? You won’t just return
to your room?”

“Nay, lass, not without putting your mind at ease that all is well.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever feel at ease again,
Mercedes thought.

Nevertheless, she followed him to the door, fastening the locks the instant he was
on the other side. Alone once more in the darkened room, she trembled, fear creeping
back upon her like a shroud.

Where had the maid left the flint? she wondered, suddenly desperate for light.

The room wasn’t large, so a quick, careful search allowed her to find what she required
to light the candle. As for the candle itself, it had burned down to little more than
a stump, but enough usable wick remained that she was able to set it ablaze after
a couple of tries.

The heaviest shadows instantly gave way to the small glow, the light providing a measure
of comfort. Shivering, she went back to the bed and perched on the end to wait. As
she did, she became aware of a lump of cloth caught beneath her hip. Rising, she pulled
the material free and discovered her robe.

She stared at it for a moment, only then realizing that in her fright she had forgotten
to put it on when she’d let the major into her room to check for intruders.

Warmth crept into her cheeks.
Mercy, this is definitely a night for rule breaking,
she thought.

She’d already pushed the bounds of propriety earlier tonight when she invited him
to stay for dinner, and now she’d appeared before him wearing nothing more than a
thin cotton nightgown. Still, given the circumstances, it seemed foolish to go all
missish over a robe. Ariadne, she knew, would laugh to see her blushing over something
so inconsequential, especially since the room had been dark at the time. Surely MacKinnon
hadn’t seen anything he oughtn’t….

Had he?

Her cheeks warmed another degree at the idea before she slipped into the borrowed
robe and fastened the buttons to her neck. She perched on the end of the bed again
to wait for his return.

She jumped like a scalded cat when the knock came.

After confirming that it was indeed the major, she let him inside.

As he passed by her, she caught the warm masculine scent of his skin mingled with
the sweet crispness of the rain that lingered on his clothing. A couple of raindrops
clung in his dark auburn tresses. As she watched, he brushed them away with a careless
hand.

Hastily, she closed and locked the door before turning back to face him. “Well? What
did you find?”

He met her gaze. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

She considered his words. “But the sound I heard—”

“The wind, I expect. There’s a large tree near your window. My guess is you heard
the branches brushing against it.”

“Oh.” She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling foolish.

“I checked the entire inn yard,” he continued, “and found nothing out of place. The
public room is empty and the front door was well bolted before I went out to investigate.
I think it’s safe to say the noise you heard was nothing more than the storm.”

She tightened her arms a fraction more, aware of what he must be thinking. No doubt
he was fighting an urge to roll his eyes and laugh over what a silly goose she was—terrified
by the wind and a few random tree branches.

“Well,” she said brusquely. “Pray accept my thanks for your efforts, however unnecessary
they may have proven to be.”

“It was no trouble, lass, but you’re quite welcome all the same.”

“
Your Highness,
” she corrected, embarrassment making her tone come out sharper than intended.

“What?”

“Your Highness,” she repeated more softly. “You really ought not refer to me in such
a casual manner. Calling me
lass
is highly inappropriate.”

He arched a single russet brow and gave her a long, considering look. “Still a princess,
are ye, then?”

Of course I am a princess,
she thought automatically. Then a new thought occurred, one that made her heart sink.
Is he like the others, after all? Does he believe I am lying?

But then he smiled, his eyes shining with a warmth that left her uncertain all over
again.

“As you wish,
Your Highness
,” he said. “My sincerest apologies for the lapse in etiquette. Now, if that will
be all for the evening, I am tired and must seek my bed.”

Her chest gave a hard squeeze. “You are right. It is very late.”

“Aye, that it is.”

She shivered despite the warmth in the room.
I shall be fine alone,
she thought, chiding herself for her cowardice.
He checked for intruders and everything is safe and secure. The men who attacked my
coach have not tracked me here, and anything I may hear from now on is just the wind.

MacKinnon swung around to leave. As he did, the building shuddered again; the windows
rattled in their frames and an eerie, keening wail rose that sounded like an animal
in pain.

“No, don’t go!” she cried hurriedly.

He turned back, a look of understanding in his eyes. “There’s no one prowling around
outside, lass…I mean, Your Highness. It’s naught but the wind whistling against the
timbers. You’re safe here.”

She clenched her fingers together and tried not to tremble.

She trembled regardless.

“I—I know,” she said. “It’s just…well…just that…”

“Just what?”

“I am scared to be alone,” she confessed. “I’ve been having nightmares and I fear
they will start again the moment I close my eyes. Could you not stay?”

He regarded her silently for a moment “By
stay
, ye mean you want me tae sleep in here with ye tonight?”

“Yes,” she answered in a curiously breathless voice. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

A
flood of possibilities raced through Daniel’s mind, each one more provocative than
the last, as he mulled over the invitation to spend the night with Mercedes.

Not that she’d meant her offer in a sexual way—he knew that without asking. Nevertheless,
he was a man, and she was a fetching lass in spite of her present difficulties. Any
healthy male would have trouble keeping his thoughts pure and wholesome around her,
particularly considering the borrowed nightclothes she wore, which didn’t conceal
nearly as much of her shapely figure as she assumed.

Then there was her long hair that flowed like a dark river over her shoulders and
along the graceful curve of her back—wavy and sleek and ripe for the touch of a man’s
hands. Her lovely face with its rosy mouth didn’t lessen the strength of his musings
either, nor the deep melting pools of her eyes that gazed beseechingly into his own
in a way that seemed to reach straight through to his soul.

But even as his body warmed to the carnal ideas that teased his senses, his mind cooled
it down as fast as a dip in an icy loch. For as plain as the nose on her wee bonnie
face, she was innocent and clearly had no notion of just how dangerous a
suggestion she had made. Another man might have taken advantage of the situation.
But despite the undeniable temptation she presented, he wasn’t in the habit of ravishing
untried young misses—particularly ones scared out of their wits.

With a regretful sigh, he set his illusions firmly aside. “I’m sorry you’re still
afraid, Your Highness, but I don’t think my staying is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Well, for one, there’s the issue of where
I am to sleep. Or are you offering tae let me share yer bed?”

“No! Most certainly not.”

Even in the dim glow of the candlelight, he saw the blush that spread over her cheeks
like a burn.

“I—I thought you could use one of the chairs.” Lamely, she pointed toward the less-than-hospitable
wooden chairs in which they had seated themselves for dinner.

He shot a baleful look toward the offending pieces of furniture. “Not bluidy likely,
lass…Your Highness, I mean. A few hours in one of those and I wouldn’t be able to
walk upright come morning.”

A tiny frown, which he found unexpectedly adorable, creased her brow. “Oh. Well, I
suppose I could sleep in a chair.”

“Then you’d be the one turned into a cripple by dawn. No, it won’t do.”

Terror returned to her eyes. “I beg of you to remain. I—I really won’t mind the chair
and you can have the bed.”

Bluidy hell,
he cursed silently. Now what was he to do? Especially with her looking at him like
some defenseless kitten who’d been tossed out into the street?

He knew she was in no danger. He’d checked the inn and the yard beyond, even the outbuildings
to make sure there was no one skulking about who didn’t belong. He’d found nothing,
and met no one except a sleepy stable hand who’d awakened when he’d entered the stables
to take a look there as well.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how much of her story to believe. She’d claimed her coach
had been attacked by a band of highwaymen who had killed everyone in her party except
herself, and that she’d only managed to survive by hiding deep in the nearby forest.
But if that were true, reports of such a horrific incident would have traveled far
and wide by now—reaching even an out-of-the-way glen such as this one. Murder was
always prime news, and murdered travelers would receive special attention at any time
of year. The inn patrons would have been buzzing with the tale, but they had not been
because there had been no such report.

Even so, he might have believed her were it not for her even more ludicrous claim
that she was a princess. He had to give her credit for maintaining the ruse, although
why she continued to play the part he didn’t know. What did she hope to gain by pretending
to be a royal? Or was it a delusion she’d conjured up in order to escape the painful
reality of her life?

Yet whatever might or might not have happened to her, and regardless of who she might
really be, there was no doubt that her fear was real. Also real was the fact that
for some completely inexplicable reason, she brought out his protective instincts.
He’d been unable to abandon her earlier today when he’d seen the crowd turn against
her in the common room, and in spite of knowing how gullible he was being, he again
found he could not abandon her.

“Och, all right,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

A brilliant smile spread over her face, its radiance almost angelic to behold.

His blood warmed once more at the sight.

Hastily, he glanced away. “I willna sleep in a chair, but the floor will do if I’ve
enough padding.”

As he well knew, the hard wooden floor wouldn’t make for the most comfortable of arrangements.
But he’d slept on worse over the years, and at least he would be warm and dry. He
shuddered to remember a few of the cold rainy nights he’d spent while on march through
the Spanish countryside,
when even the officers had been chilled straight through to the bone.

“Do you want my coverlet?” she offered.

He shook his head, thinking one last longing time of the comfortable bed he was about
to give up. “Nae, I’ll go next door and get my own bedding. I’ll be back in a trice.”

Unfastening the bolt, he let himself out into the empty hallway.

Mercedes had no idea how much time had passed when a hand on her shoulder shook her
awake. Drawing a ragged breath, she opened her mouth to scream, but the hand moved
quickly to cover her lips so she couldn’t make a sound.

“Ye’re having a nightmare, lass,” came a throaty whisper through the darkness. “It’s
only me. There’s no one here to harm you.”

MacKinnon.

“Are you awake now?” he asked. “You’ll no’ scream, will you, if I remove my hand?”