The Taming of a Scottish Princess

  Her gaze slid to Michael, whose gaze flickered appreciatively over Lindsee, lingering on her more obvious curves. “I’m glad you took no real injury in your fall,” he said with a faint smile. “Or if you did, it’s not where one can easily see it.”

  Jane blinked. By Ra, he is flirting with her! Surely not.

  Jane cleared her throat. “Lady MacDonald, I hope you don’t have far to ride?”

  Lindsee laughed, her smile making her look even prettier. “Och, no. I live at Dunganon House, on the eastern shore. You know the shore ro—” She caught herself and said in a more demure voice, “It’s not far. You just take this path to the shore road and go north. ’Tis upon a bluff there.”

  “That’s not far, then,” Jane said, trying not to lose her smile. “I hope you— Oh! Did you hear the thunder! Michael, we should be on our way or we’ll be caught in the rain.”

  “I didn’t hear any thunder,” Michael said, his gaze still locked on Lindsee, as if fascinated. “Lady MacDonald, I hope Lord MacDonald isn’t too worried about you.”

  Instantly, Lindsee’s expression turned sad. “Och, no. I’m a widow.”

  “I’m very sorry,” Michael said.

  “Thank you. Lord MacDonald passed two years ago when his fishing boat sank. He was very fond of fishing, he was, and would go out in the worst seas. I warned him, but . . .” She shook her head, the picture of lovely widowhood.

  Michael murmured his sympathy and then asked how such a young and lovely widow stayed busy on such a small island, which sent Lindsee into a thorough and exhaustive description of each and every amusement there was to be had on Barra.

  Soon they were talking as if Jane didn’t exist. She watched them uneasily, realizing that Michael was only charming when he wanted something, and she worried that she knew exactly what he wanted—and it had nothing to do with Lindsee.

  Still, Jane couldn’t help feeling a bit of envy. Lindsee was one of those naturally beautiful women who were so used to their own beauty that they didn’t expect it to garner notice. They did, however, enjoy the attention that beauty brought them. Right now Lindsee was laughing at something Michael had said. She was toying with a curl that reached down over one of her shoulders, the gesture provocative in some way that Jane couldn’t define, though she recognized it well enough.

  Blast it, why can’t I be more flirtatious like that?

  Michael chuckled, the deep sound raking along Jane’s nerves as Lindsee tilted her head to one side and smiled. Jane was certain that if she attempted to look that way, she wouldn’t look either adorable or lovely, but like a moonstruck cow. She was equally certain that Michael wouldn’t smile as he was now smiling at Lindsee, but would scowl and tell her to stop being a chucklehead. Worse, Jane didn’t think she’d blame him. She simply wasn’t that type of female.

  Lindsee seemed to realize that she’d left Jane out of the conversation, for she gave a startled blink when her gaze met Jane’s. “Och, I should get home now,” she said quickly, and then said to Michael, “It was nice of you to help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t caught Merry for me.”

  “Oh, Michael is very good at leading horses,” Jane returned dryly. “I’ve often told him that if exploring grows old and banal, he could easily become a groomsman.”

  Michael bowed over Lindsee’s hand. “Lady MacDonald, may I visit you soon?”

  “That would be lovely. Please bring Miss—” Lindsee frowned.

  “Her name is such a long one,” Michael said, patting Lindsee’s hand instead of releasing it. “Just call her Jane. I’m sure that would be easier for all of us.”

  Jane cut him a hard look. What does he mean by that?

  But nothing in Michael’s expression betrayed his thoughts. Instead, he said easily, “I daresay you find it lonely here on this island. I’m surprised you haven’t removed to Edinburgh.”

  “Oh, no,” Lindsee said. “I traveled to Edinburgh once but found it far too noisy to my liking. I didn’t sleep a wink for all of the creaking carts and yells and dogs barking and other noises.”

  Ha! Michael will stomp that utterance into dust. He has no patience with people who complain about bearing with changes whilst traveling. He always scoffs and says, “What fools expect sameness when traveling and—”

  “Too true,” Michael said. “I would imagine even Oban would seem noisy after living upon this lovely, peaceful island.”

  Jane stared at him.

  He caught her look and lifted his brows, his dark blue eyes glinting. “Your mouth is open.”

  Jane snapped her mouth closed, her irritation ready to boil over.

  Michael continued. “As I’m sure Jane has mentioned, I’m on a quest for a lost family amulet. It might be helpful if you could spend a few hours showing me about the island, as I’m sure you know it well and—”

  “Us,” Jane said quickly. “Shows us about the island.”

  “Oh, no,” Michael said. “Just me.” He smiled at Lindsee. “I would love an escort.”

  “Pardon me,” Jane said firmly. “But I can escort you around Barra. I can take notes of our discoveries, and mark the maps where we—”

  “How diligent of you,” Michael replied. “But you haven’t been here in years. If Lady MacDonald has the time, I’d prefer to go with her.”

  Jane knew what would happen next—Lindsee would blush and agree in that breathless way of talking that always drove men mad with lust. Jane couldn’t blame her, of course. What woman in her right mind could resist Michael when he was at his most charming, as he was now? It showed in the faintly amused smile on his lips, and in the twinkle in his dark blue gaze.

  Lindsee sent Jane a look meant to reassure her before setting a time with Michael to explore the island the next day. Then Michael slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her into the saddle.

  As she settled into place, her gaze flew over Michael’s shoulder to where Jane stood miserably watching. Unaware of her friend’s turmoil, Lindsee winked.

  She looked so much like the old Lindsee that Jane felt all of a foot tall for having such uncharitable thoughts. She managed a quick smile and a nod. It wasn’t Lindsee’s fault she was so beautiful or that she couldn’t see through Michael’s stratagems.

  Still, it was a relief to see Lindsee ride off down the path, the dappled sunlight reflecting off her golden hair.

  “Interesting,” Michael said.

  Jane turned to find him watching her, not Lindsee’s retreating figure, one brow lifted, as if he were asking a question.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was about to ask you that same question.” He led his horse to where Jane stood beside her own mount and offered his laced hands to assist her in climbing back into the saddle.

  She tossed her skirts over her arm, placed the tip of her boot in his hands, and was immediately tossed into the saddle. Of course, Lindsee was placed in her saddle like a glass doll.

  Michael made no move to climb back into his saddle but remained by her knee, looking up at her. “Ever since we arrived on this island, you seem different from the Jane Smythe-Haughton who ran my expeditions so efficiently.”

  “How so?”

  He eyed her with a thoroughly considering gaze. “I haven’t quite figured it out. But I shall.”

  Jane fought the urge to smooth her hair and arrange her skirts in a more decorous manner. Her cheeks heated, which was simple foolishness on her part. All he was doing was looking at her. Why should such a thing discombobulate her so?

  Above them, a deep rumble of thunder rolled across the gray sky. “Ah,” Michael said, “real thunder, unlike what you said you heard earlier. I’m many things, my dear, but deaf is not one of them.”

  Jane was uncomfortably aware of the breadth of Michael’s chest near her leg, of the masculine line of his firm lips, and the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. She’d looked at Michael Hurst a million times before, but for some reason, he’d never appeared so dear.

 
Yet that was what he was . . . he was dear to her. It suddenly dawned on her that her life for the last four years hadn’t been taken up with adventuring so much as it had been spent taking care of Michael. That was what she’d enjoyed doing. That was what had made their adventures so challenging and fun.

  Taking care of Michael like a wife might if she were traveling—

  Stop that! she told herself, almost breathless with the direction her thoughts had taken. She’d never ever allowed herself to think such things about Michael, and she wasn’t about to begin now.

  She firmly collected her galloping thoughts and forced them to settle back into safer realms, where she was the personal assistant of the dashing, exciting, intelligent, and painfully handsome Michael Hurst, and nothing more.

  More thunder rumbled, following by a streak of lightning. She gathered the reins. “We had better return to the inn. We can visit the cave another time.”

  He glanced at the sky. “I suppose you’re right, damn it. But, before we go, I want to know why meeting Lady MacDonald upset you so. You’ve done nothing but scowl since.” He watched her expression the way a hawk watched a rabbit.

  “Upset me? Nonsense. She seems like a nice enough person.”

  “Yes. Did you know her from before?”

  Blast it, was there nothing she could keep from him? “It’s possible, though it’s been many years since I lived here and—”

  “Oh, you know her,” he said softly. “I’m certain of it.”

  A blazing bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a crack of thunder so close that the ground rumbled. The horses whinnied and tried to bolt, but Jane kept firm control of the reins while Michael moved to Ramses’ head.

  As soon as the horse was calmed, Michael climbed into the saddle with an easy movement. “Have your own way, my prickly Scottish princess. For now.”

  He gestured for her to precede him down the path, and she did so, wondering how she was going to keep him from his promised ride with Lindsee.

  CHAPTER 10

  From the diary of Michael Hurst:

  I never thought to be intrigued by an icy, godforsaken pile of rocks, but Barra promises to reveal many secrets. How can such a small isle hide so many? When I look at a map of the island, it hangs from the Hebrides like the wicked tail of a dragon, ready to wreak havoc upon the weak and unsuspecting. Fortunately, I am neither.

  Alone in the common room, Michael set down his empty coffee cup and leaned back in his chair, wincing as it protested. It was very peaceful, as immediately after breakfast Jane had disappeared outside, saying she needed to speak to the groom about the horses.

  The back door opened and he could hear Jane entering, humming a tune of some sort. “The horses will be ready in an hour,” she said.

  “An hour? I wished to leave immediately.”

  “Yes, but Ramses has a loose shoe, and it must be repaired immediately. Fortunately, Mr. Macpherson has all of the necessary tools and it can be done here.”

  “So we’re stuck here, waiting in this miserable weather.” Michael glared at the solid gray sky that hung over the inn yard. “Curses to you, blasted rain.”

  “If that helps, let me know.” Jane came to the window, and he realized she was carrying a vase full of flowers. She’d taken off her cloak, and the bottom hem of her gown was drenched, her hair damp so that it fought the neat chignon she’d pinned it in.

  The dewy freshness of the flowers was mirrored in her face.

  “Where did you get those?” he asked.

  “From the garden in the back. Mrs. Macpherson has a remarkably green thumb. Though it’s already late in the season, she still has a lovely assortment of flowers and herbs. She has thyme and basil and mint, roses and—”

  “Don’t tell me the name of every flower and herb in the blasted garden. I’m bored, but not that bored.”

  Her lips quirked. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I was, however, bored enough to make friends with our recalcitrant landlady. According to Mrs. Macpherson’s gouty left knee—which, I’m told, is never wrong—we’re in for one more day of this relentless rain.”

  “Only one? I’m astonished.”

  “And I’m relieved. There’s no reason why we can’t at least give the caves a good preliminary scouting today. If we’re to visit them, it would make sense to get a feel for the excursion beforehand.”

  “And then we’ll know what equipment we’ll need.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That can be done, although I fear we’re in a spring tide.”

  “But it’s October.”

  She’d been arranging the flowers in the vase, but at this, she shook her head. “Spring tide doesn’t refer to the time of year, but to the height.” At his curious look, she said, “There are spring and neap tides. Spring tides come with the full moon and are high, while neap tides come with the waning moon and are low.”

  “Ah. And we have a full moon now.”

  “Almost. Which means the cave won’t be out from underwater for very long. When we visit it, we’ll have to slip in and out as quickly as we can.”

  “We’ll just have to make it work.”

  “Very well. I’ll gather rope, candles, and the other supplies we’ll need and have them packed on the horses in the morning.”

  “Good. I’ll—” A horse rode into the courtyard, and Michael stood to see who it was. “Ah, there’s Ammon. I wondered when he’d return.”

  Jane set the vase of flowers in the center of the table before she joined Michael at the window. “I didn’t realize you’d sent him out.”

  Michael looked down, though all he could see of her was the top of her head, her hair darkened from the rain. “Oh, yes,” he said, moving so he could see her face. “I sent Ammon with an invitation for the charming Lady MacDonald.”

  Jane’s brows snapped low, and she sent him a dark look. “You’re wasting your time if you think to find out something about my past from her.”

  He shrugged. “Then you’ve nothing to fear from my visiting the delightful Lady MacDonald.”

  “I didn’t say I was afraid,” Jane returned stiffly.

  She hadn’t said it, but oh, she was; he could feel it in the air about her. “I daresay I’ll be gone awhile, for I intend on having a long talk with Lady MacDonald. We’ll probably speak on a number of topics. The weather. How she came to be on this forsaken isle. Her favorite color. The sort of books she enjoys. Memories of childhood friends . . .” He grinned at Jane.

  She didn’t so much as blink. “You’re not going to give this up, are you?”

  “No.”

  Ammon, having tied his horse to a large ring on the outside of the farmhouse, now entered, water dripping from his cape.

  Michael stepped forward. “Did you get an answer?”

  Ammon withdrew a small folded note from the voluminous folds of his cloak. “With Lady MacDonald’s compliments.”

  Michael pulled out his spectacles and read the note. “Excellent!” He took off his spectacles and tucked them back into his pocket. “I am to visit her this very afternoon.”

  Jane sniffed. “Go. Talk to Lady MacDonald. You won’t learn a thing.”

  “One never knows where one might find a clue. Ammon, she asks for no reply, so I’ve merely to arrive at her home at two. Was it difficult to find?”

  “No, sir. It is the only house on that stretch of road. It’s a fine edifice, too.”

  “Lady MacDonald doesn’t strike me as the sort of woman to live in anything less. Thank you, Ammon. Oh, and Miss Smythe-Haughton and I will be going for a short ride this morning ourselves, just as soon as Turner has fixed Ramses’ loose shoe. Please ask Mrs. Macpherson to have a luncheon waiting at noon when we return.”

  Ammon bowed and left.

  Michael was aware of Jane glaring at him. He faced her now, his brows raised politely. “If you don’t say something, you’ll explode.”

  “Had I known you weren’t coming to Barra to search for the amulet, but t
o engage in senseless flirting, I wouldn’t have bothered to accompany you.”

  “I wouldn’t call it senseless flirting.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You’re just going riding with her to ask about my past?”

  “Jane, please. You’re not the focus of every conversation I have. In fact, I doubt you will even come up. Of course, if you do . . . naturally, I will listen to whatever Lady MacDonald has to say.” He headed for the stairs. “We should change our clothing if we’re to go mucking about the cave site today. I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

  He climbed the stairs, noting that the day seemed much brighter. Oddly, discovering the truth about Miss Jane Smythe-Haughton was almost as exciting as finding the Hurst Amulet. Almost.

  Humming, he found his riding clothes and began to change.

  A half hour later, Michael pulled the horse to a halt and looked around at the thick underbrush. “How do we reach the cave entrance from here? You said it was at sea level, and we’re far above that.”

  “There’s a path.” Jane slid off her horse. She’d worn a sturdy gray gown instead of her riding habit, in order to have much more freedom of movement. “The path is cut into the cliff face and it starts there.” She pointed to where the earth seemed to disappear from sight over the distant vista of the ocean. “It’s rather steep in places.”

  Michael swung down from his mount, tied the horse to a shrub, and then walked to the sheer cliff edge. Below, the surf pounded furiously against sharp rocks. “Where exactly are we?”

  “At the southernmost point of the island. This”—she gestured to the cliff edge, which curved in a crescent above the tumultuous sea—“is Devil’s Height.”

  “Ah. Named by whom?”

  “Sailors. There are many ship hulls on the bottom of this cove. The tide is strong here and the reefs treacherous. Once a ship gets caught, it’s done for.”

  “I can only imagine.” A fat drop of rain plopped on his sleeve, and he glanced up at the gray sky. “The rains won’t hold off for long.”

  “Which is why we must hurry,” Jane said. “We should at least go a short way on the path to make certain it’s still there. It’s been years since I was here, you know. It could have crumbled into the ocean in that time.”