Scoundrel’s Redemption (Highlander’s Pact #3)

Chapter Six

G reer knew better than to bring Teagan to such a secluded spot, but when the chance arose to “escape” with her fictional hero, she just couldn’t help herself. The temptation was too great.

It was foolish, though, and she knew it. Not just for her sake, but for his because he was Scottish. Therefore, he could be blamed for anything at any time, only for where he came from.

If that were not enough, now she hoped her hero would see through a quest she’d painted for him. But she simply couldn’t help her strong emotions or passion when it came to this. More than that, she heard the determination in his voice when he’d spoken to Besse earlier. When he’d assured her, he would get her out of here.

“I want to smuggle all three of them out,” she stated. “And it needs to happen before I’m married and no longer here to protect them.”

Rather than look at her in shock, and say, “Ye’re out of yer bloody mind!’ a slow smile crept onto his face that made her stomach flutter. Almost as though she were going to swoon.

“At least your legs are more stable now that he’s not outright smiling,” Margery would have said, amused, teasing. “Can you imagine the mortification had they given out altogether? Had you just crumpled to the ground?”

She could. Very much so. She’d prayed they would keep her upright down the castle stairs, along the path leading here, then pretty much up to this moment. She’d never been so aware of a man in her life. Not just because of his substantial height and muscular build, either, but because of how gentle he’d been with her and Besse. How kind.

Then there was the way a dimple appeared in one cheek when he smiled. But then a roguish crooked smile would do that, wouldn’t it? A sinful smile that kept her legs—or perhaps her knees specifically?—feeling rather weak.

“And just look at him helping you pick herbs,” Margery would exclaim. “Can you imagine Bartholomew doing such a thing?”

No, never. But then Teagan and Bartholomew were remarkably different men. For example, her fiancé hated this very spot. Everything about nature. He had come here once with her, vowing never to do it again. According to him, it was nothing but filthy bathing water for the peasants.

“Though it willnae be easy,” Teagan said, interrupting her reverie, “I agree that yer Scottish friends need to be gone from this place.”

She nodded, relieved to hear him say it. “I know ’tis a lot to ask, but I have seen the fate of others before them and cannot stand to watch it happen again.” Though tempted to move closer, to put her hand on his arm in a gesture of goodwill, she knew better. “I will do anything you need of me. Anything at all.” She shook her head. “I care nothing of my welfare after you get them out of here.”

“But yer ma will.” He frowned, not seeming to care they had only just met. “As do I.” Though it seemed he wanted to say one thing, he hesitated and said another. “Whatever comes of it all, I will find a way to get them out of here, Greer.”

Whatever comes of it all?

As if there were more to this than what she asked of him?

“It sounds like your Scottish friends are not the only thing he wants to smuggle out of here,” Margery would hedge, smirking at her. “Perhaps you will be riding off into the sunset after all?”

“Do not think like that,” she whispered, cursing it the moment she said it, mainly because Teagan looked at her curiously again. When he responded, she realized he replied the way he did on purpose. That he was trying to keep her from feeling bad about talking to herself .

“I will think like that,” he said. “For they dinnae deserve the life they currently live nor the one that surely lies ahead.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, genuinely grateful. She was about to say more when he put a finger to his lips that she stay quiet, looked back the way they had come, and slowly unsheathed his dirk.

As it happened, her mother appeared moments later. She swore she saw a flash of approval in her eyes that Greer and Teagan were together before her expression switched to one of surprise.

“My apologies.” Mother stopped short. “Was I intruding?”

“Of course not,” Greer said too quickly, feeling guilty when she should not. “Why would you be intruding?”

Her mother glanced between them curiously before she relented. “True. ’Tis not as if I stumbled upon a secret tryst.”

“A tryst ?” Greer exclaimed, stunned she would say such a thing.

“Is it me, or is there amusement in your mother’s eyes?” Margery would tease. “Perhaps even, dare I say, hope?”

There best not be.

But what if there was? What would that mean?

She frowned at her mother and Teagan, wondering if she imagined things. For Mother envisioning her with Teagan was a preposterous notion. An outright impossible one.

“Yes, dear, a tryst,” her mother replied, waving it away as though she hadn’t meant to say it.

Good. Enough of that.

Yet almost as an afterthought, her mother continued, mortifying Greer more by the moment. “But then, a romantic tryst betwixt you and Teagan would be impossible at this juncture, considering you only just met.”

Teagan muttered something indiscernible under his breath, then saved the day.

“Yer daughter is too much of a lady for that, Cecille.” He sheathed his blade and shook his head. “Even jesting about such is inappropriate, aye? ”

“Is it, though?” Margery would wonder, mirth dancing in her eyes again. “Because I think we both know being a lady around the likes of him is a struggle.”

Was it ever. Not just because of the desire he invoked, but because of the freedom she felt around him. She had no idea why, either. Only that it drove her to bring him here, to begin with. A bold move, considering she was engaged to be married.

Her cheeks warmed at the thought of what might have happened had her mother not come along. How their hands may have mistakenly brushed when they reached for the same herb. How their gazes would have connected and lingered. Caught in the moment, he might have brushed his fingers along her cheek. Trailed them down her neck. Along her heaving chest.

No, no, that’s not how he would have gone about it at all. Instead, his gaze would linger on her lips, his desire unmistakable, his need for her undeniable. She would lick her lips, tempting him to imagine what else she might do with her mouth. Then he would lick his lips…

“Enough with the lips,” Margery would cut in, rolling her eyes. “Just kiss the man already!”

“Are you all right, darling?” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts. “You seem a bit red in the face.”

“Do I?” She fanned her face with her hand, feigning innocence. “’Tis a rather warm afternoon.”

In truth, it was fairly cool.

Thankfully, her mother went along with it, however knowing her gaze.

“ ’Tis rather warm.” Mother eyed the location, her gaze sentimental. “You always did love this spot, daughter.”

She wondered if her mother recalled the numerous times she, Greer, Julianna, and their father had picnicked here.

“Yes, ’tis a nice spot,” she replied, not sure what else to say. How she truly felt.

Although she loved this area, something about her mother being here right now left a sour taste in her mouth. Her presence reminded Greer how she’d left and never returned. How they all did.

“I should get back,” she murmured, forcing the words out when she would rather flee without saying anything. Flee before she grew too upset and said things she might regret.

“Must you?” Mother’s pained gaze turned her way. “Why not stay and enjoy the view with me? We need not talk if you prefer the silence.”

“No.” She said goodbye to Teagan in passing. “I must get back.”

Fortunately, her mother didn’t stop her, and she made it to the kitchens without seeing anyone else, most especially Bartholomew. The children’s mother, Ada, was the only one she ran into just outside the door.

Greer gestured at the basket and smiled. “Some extra herbs for cooking if you need them.”

A small woman with bright red hair and fiery blue eyes, Ada was like bright sunlight dimmed by storm clouds. Repressed and unable to shine as she should. One could see how lovely she was, but like Greer, she was bound by those around her. Imprisoned in a life where she didn’t belong. That was probably why they got along so well. Or, for that matter, why Greer smiled at all.

“Ye know I dinnae need more herbs.” Ada eyed the basket, then glanced in the direction of the river with amusement. “But then I imagine ye needed a good reason to tromp off alone with our handsome new arrival.”

“I was not tromping ,” she defended.

“Aye, more like floating on thin air.” Ada chuckled before she grew serious. “’Twas good seeing ye smile like that.”

She’d been smiling? “You make me smile.”

“Aye, but not nearly enough.” Ada’s eyes twinkled. “And not nearly like that.”

“I did not realize I was,” she murmured before something occurred to her, and she frowned. If Ada saw them so clearly, who else might have?”

“’Twas only me who saw ye, friend,” Ada said, guessing Greer’s unspoken concerns. But then she had a gift for that sort of thing. “I think yer bigger concern should be how much ye spoke with Margery on yer stroll.” She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. “Though mayhap ’twould not be such a bad thing for the braw lad to meet her upfront.”

“I…she…” Greer cleared her throat, knowing better than to claim she talked to herself to Ada. “I spoke with her very little.”

“What does she think of Teagan?”

“You know his name?”

“Aye, I know everything that happens around here, mistress, and well ye know it.” Having obviously talked to her children, she winked. “Even about yer warrior-hero.”

God love them; they were chatty children.

“Margery likes him.” She gave Ada a look she couldn’t misinterpret. “And it just so happens he is a hero.”

“Och,” Ada murmured, understanding what Greer implied. For, Besse would have told her why Teagan was their “warrior-hero.” Hope flashed in her eyes before they dulled with resolve. “’Tis nice to think he might be our savior, friend.” She shook her head. “But unless he has an army at his disposal, ’tis impossible as far as I can see.”

“Whatever he has,” she lowered her voice, lest others overhear, “he seems determined. As if he wants to help no matter what it takes.”

“Then, we can only hope he has an army backing him.” Though emotion simmered in her eyes, Ada stayed strong. “I know yer uncle intends to get coin for my children. As to his plans for me, I think we both know where that will lead.”

She did, and didn’t like it one bit. The way he looked at Ada lately was telling.

“I will speak with Teagan again soon,” Greer assured, “and find out how he intends to go about things. If, perhaps, he has fighting men who might help.”

When Ada nodded and looked at her hesitantly, Greer frowned. “What is it?”

“I was thinking mayhap ye should come along, too, if he gets us out of here.”

“I could never,” she began before Ada cut her off and whispered in her ear exactly why she might want to reconsider never .