Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (29 page)

It didn’t surprise Cain that Margaret had not yet come to see him. But with Jonah’s disappearance, he had to begin his search as soon as possible. And he couldn’t go without speaking to her first.

He stood in front of the manor house, uncertain of how Lord and Lady Lanfordshire would react to his presence. The door swung open, and Cain saw Mr. Merrill standing there. It reassured him to know that he wouldn’t be thrown out right away. “I see you’ve found a position with the family, Merrill.”

The older man gave a slight smile. “A temporary one, sir. The family has been kind to Annie and me, granting us a place to stay. Even if it’s only for a short time, at least we may earn references here.”

Cain was glad to hear it. “I’ve come to pay a call upon Miss Andrews,” he told Merrill.

The older man opened the door wider. “Of course, sir. Come in, and I’ll let her know you’ve returned.”

Before Cain could set foot in the house, Lord Lanfordshire saw him standing at the entrance. He moved forward, blocking the hallway. “I think you’ve seen enough of my daughter in the past month.”

From the man’s tone, it was clear that Margaret had told him very little. “I brought her home safely to you,” Cain reminded the man. Before he could repeat his request to see her, the baron’s expression narrowed.

“And you’re wanting a reward for it, I suppose. How much did she promise you?”

The man honestly believed he’d come here for money?

Of course. He would think that, wouldn’t he? The assumption was a blow he should have anticipated. But Cain met the man’s gaze and said, “That isna why I’ve come, Lord Lanfordshire. I came to tell Miss Andrews that I’ll be leaving Ballaloch again. My brother has gone missing.”

“You presume she would care where you’ve gone?” The baron’s expression was cold. “Go on your way, Sinclair. Your business with my daughter is finished.”

The soft sounds of footsteps caught his attention, and Cain spied Margaret standing at the top of the stairs. Her hair was damp and hanging down across her shoulders, as if she’d just bathed. The old Margaret would never have dreamed of appearing before anyone in such a state, but she’d rightfully understood that her father was about to make him leave.

She called out, “No, Father, it’s all right. I will speak with Mr. Sinclair.”

Lord Lanfordshire’s expression turned rigid. “You will not, Margaret. Remain upstairs, and I will ensure that Sinclair does not bother you.”

Her father’s words were meaningless, for Margaret hurried down the stairs, ignoring him entirely. “Has something happened, Mr. Sinclair?”

“It has,” he agreed. “Jonah is gone.”

Her eyes widened with dismay, and she moved closer. From this distance, he could smell the floral aroma of the soap she’d used. It made him want to pull her nearer.

“Do you have any idea where he might be?” she was asking.

“Nay. But I’ll have to go and find him.”

Her eyes met his, and she nodded faintly, to show that she understood. But he didn’t want her to think he was abandoning her.

Lord Lanfordshire stood between them, trying to keep Margaret from coming any closer. And yet, it was as if the baron weren’t there at all.

“Of course you must go,” she murmured. “I will pray that he’s found safely.”

Will you be all right?
he asked silently. He didn’t know how long his search would last, and he was torn by wanting to protect her . . . and knowing he couldn’t.

He wasn’t the sort of man to leave a woman behind, not like this. She shouldn’t have to suffer shame because of choices they’d made on the journey.

“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” he told her. “I’ll have to gather supplies for the journey beforehand.” He held her gaze, wanting her to come and see him one last time.

She glanced at her father and then looked back at him. Worry creased her green eyes, and he suspected she couldn’t leave. “Be careful.”

There was nothing more to say, and he started to turn away when Margaret called out, “I’ll walk out with you, Mr. Sinclair.”

“No, you will not.” Her father caught her arm and pulled her back. “I allowed you to speak with him, but that is all.”

“Henry, you’re being ridiculous.” Lady Lanfordshire came downstairs and put an arm around Margaret. “Our daughter is a grown woman, and I hardly think Mr. Sinclair intends to accost her at the front door.”

Anger flared in the baron’s eyes. “We are not having this discussion here, Beatrice. I’ve said what I intend to say, and that’s final.”

In response, the baroness took him by the hand and started to lead him away. “Go on, Margaret. Say your farewell, and I’ll manage your father.”

“I am not a child to be managed,” Lord Lanfordshire gritted out.

“Then stop behaving like one.” She gripped his hand and nodded to them. “You may have two minutes.”

The warmth in the woman’s eyes caught Cain by surprise, like an unexpected ally. He bowed to her and smiled in return. Was it his imagination, or did the baroness actually wink at him? Surely, he was seeing things.

Margaret smiled gratefully at her mother and hurried forward. She closed the door behind her, and took his hand. “Thank you for telling me about Jonah. I’ll pray that you find him quickly.”

“Come to my house tonight, lass,” he said beneath his breath. “One last time before I go.”

“I can’t. It will be too hard to slip away.”

He’d expected her to say that. “I’ll wait for you.”

She hesitated, and he knew her beautiful mind was coming up with all sorts of reasons why this was improper.

“We need to talk,” he said. “Say you’ll come.”

“I can’t make any promises,” she protested. “But I hope you find Jonah quickly and return.”

“Aye. That I’ll do.” He took a step backward and walked down the stairs. It felt as if he’d intruded upon enemy territory, but he didn’t care. Aye, Lord Lanfordshire would sooner kill him than allow him to see Margaret again. In the end, it was her decision. And the fact that she’d defied her father to speak with him held a promise of its own.

“Tonight,” he repeated.

Chapter Twelve

M
argaret trudged along the path leading toward Cain’s house. Although she’d worn a hooded cloak so that no one would see her face, it wasn’t a good idea to walk alone. Her heart was pounding at the thought of being discovered by anyone—especially her father.

But thankfully, she’d managed to slip away.

After another mile of walking, she reached Cain’s house. The wood frame was a few years old, and the peat roof held an earthy smell. Was this the sort of house she would share with him, if they did marry? She studied it for a moment, touching the rough exterior. At one time, she would have been horrified to live in a house such as this.

But now . . . she saw that it wasn’t the house that mattered. It was the people inside. And she didn’t want to turn away from the man who had kept her safe during these past few weeks.

Her father had made it clear that he wanted her to have nothing to do with Cain. He would do everything in his power to prevent them from being together. No, Cain wasn’t the sort of man her parents would approve of. But neither was she ready to walk away from him.

Confusion muddled her thoughts as she stood before his door. Did she want to marry Cain? She tried to imagine what it would be like if she never saw him again, and an aching emptiness took root in her heart. Perhaps it was better to be with him than without him. But if she dared to accept his proposal, it would tear her family apart.

Margaret stared at Cain’s door, wondering what she should do. Her parents would pressure her to wed a gentleman quickly, but in the end, she held all the power. She could do what
she
wanted to do, not what they believed was proper. But the longer she held off, the more it would push her toward a real marriage with Cain. And perhaps that might be what she wanted after all.

She pushed open the door and found herself staring at a sharp blade. Cain let out a breath and lowered the dirk. “You should’ve knocked, lass.”

He pushed the door closed behind her, and she moved into his arms. The scent of him filled up the space, and she rested her cheek against his heart. It felt good to be in his embrace once more with his strength surrounding her.

“I’m so sorry about Jonah,” she said. “Did you learn anything else?”

His hand caressed her hair, and he shook his head. “Nay. He was gone before we got to Ballaloch.”

Idly, she traced her hands down his chest until she wrapped her arms around his waist. He said nothing, but drew his hands over her face as if he were learning her features in the dark. “I don’t ken when I’ll be back.”

“But you will return.” The ache within her sharpened at the thought of him leaving. She’d never expected to feel this way for him, but it was right. He had somehow pushed past the edges of her proper ways, weakening the barriers of her heart.

“Your father wants me to stay far away from you.” He released her, and the grimness in his tone spoke of a man who understood the distance between them. Then he lifted her chin and asked, “But what is it
you
want, lass?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “If I choose to marry you, my family might turn away from me. I’ll lose everything I’ve ever known.” Her hands moved up around his neck. “But I don’t know if I could bear to be away from you.”

She stood on tiptoe and touched her mouth to his. He kissed her back gently, and the warmth of his mouth reminded her of all the reasons why she was powerless to resist him. In moments like this, he made her feel beautiful, as if he lived for her.

“Wait for me, lass,” he urged. His eyes held a dangerous glitter, and he pressed her back against the wall. “Don’t give up on us.” Her heart stumbled a beat, and he framed her face within his hands. “I may no’ be able to give you a fine house with servants or a title. But I can give you all that I have.”

She covered his hands with her own. Once, marrying a titled, wealthy gentleman had been her dream. Now, that life was out of reach. Even if she had the chance to wed a lord, she wasn’t certain that was what she wanted anymore.

“Find your brother,” she said, “and when you return, I’ll give you my answer.”

He drew her close, holding her body to his. His hands moved down her spine, until their bodies were fitted together. “Can you deny that this is where you belong?”

She didn’t argue with him, but a sudden impulse made her say, “Convince me, then.”

His hands moved down to the buttons of her gown, lightly teasing her nape. But she caught his hands and said, “Wait.”

His blue eyes burned hot, and he gripped her hands. “I canna speak the fine words you’re wanting, lass. I walked through fire for you. What more do you want?”

He spoke the truth, for he’d suffered on her behalf. But she was torn between the woman she’d intended to be and the woman she was. Cain Sinclair had seen through her proper manners. She wasn’t at all a prim miss who would scream and faint at the sight of danger. She was a woman who survived, no matter what the cost.

And what she wanted was a man who saw her as an equal.

On that point, she reminded him, “I walked through fire for you, too.”

The air between them was tense, for he looked frustrated that she wasn’t ready to hand over her life to him. “Why do you fight what there is between us?”

She brought his hands to her waist. “I’m not fighting you, Cain. I’m fighting myself. I don’t know who I am anymore or what sort of life lies ahead.”

“It doesna have to be a life like this,” he said in a low voice, turning her to look at his house. “I could change everything for you.”

She didn’t understand what he meant by that. “I don’t think—”

“Listen, lass.” He cut her off, bringing her back to face him. “Had you thought about Aphrodite’s Unmentionables? What if I began delivering the garments again? We earned a great deal of money over the years. It could happen again.”

She studied his blue eyes, turning it over in her mind. For so long, she’d resisted the idea of any involvement in the business, leaving it to her sisters and the crofters’ wives who dwelled on Eiloch Hill. In the past two months, they’d virtually abandoned it, and she knew that the Scotswomen needed those profits. Someone had to resurrect it, and Cain was right. It
could
bring in tremendous profits.

“I could give you more than this,” he insisted. “You’d have a better life.”

“But I’d never see you, if you traveled that often,” she reminded him. “What sort of life is that?”

He stopped talking then and took possession of her, claiming a kiss. She kissed him back, knowing that she could not refuse him any more than she could walk out the door. “I would do whate’er I had to, lass. You belong to me, and you’ll wed me one day. If I have to chain you to my side, this I swear.”

His tongue entered her mouth, sending a thousand ripples of desire floating through her. With him, her inhibitions vanished, making her into a woman who bloomed beneath his touch.

“I don’t use words to get what I’m wanting. I’m a man of actions.” He lifted her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist. Then he pressed her against the wall, supporting her weight easily. Gently, he lowered her until she could feel his rigid erection pressed between her legs.

“Tell me you don’t crave my touch. That you don’t want to feel me here.” His hand moved beneath her skirts, above her stockings, to her bare skin. His palm caressed between her legs, and she was already wet for him. “Your body doesna lie, does it?”

“No,” she breathed. He murmured endearments to her in Gaelic, fumbling with his clothes until she could guide his erection inside her. It was exhilarating, being joined with him like this. Both of them were fully clothed, and yet he’d claimed her intimately.

“You aren’t a good girl, Margaret Andrews,” he breathed against her throat. He lifted her slightly, sheathing himself inside her wetness. “You might behave like a lady, but deep inside, you want to be wicked.”

He was right. She loved the way he touched her, unraveling her senses. “And deep inside, you want to be a man of honor. You would die for someone you loved.” Just as she’d abandoned all principles to fight for her sister.