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

Chapter Fifteen

O f all the rotten luck.

“That blasted man,” Cecille cursed under her breath when Bartholomew arrived just before they sat down to supper. “I had hoped he would not return yet.”

“’Tis no matter,” Teagan assured softly, grateful he’d been gone this long to begin with. “I will still get ye out of here.”

He would, too.

If it were the last thing he did.

In all actuality, considering the swine purchasing Duncan had retired early, Bartholomew’s return might not be such a bad thing. Especially if it meant Randolph drank more than usual. If anything, what turned out the more challenging aspect of the Englishman’s return was watching him with Greer.

Where he’d envisioned doing dark things to the Sassenach before, now that he knew Greer all that much better, he wanted to draw out Bartholomew’s torture for days. Weeks if he could manage it.

“Do not let this rile you, friend,” Edmund would say. “Do not let your demons take over and ruin everything.”

Keeping that in mind, fighting his monsters every step of the way, he clenched his teeth and bore it. Bore the sight of Bartholomew’s filthy gaze on sweet Greer. Tolerated the demeaning way in which he talked to her. Tried not to envision the almost healed bruises the man’s touch had left on her delicate flesh .

God’s truth, it was more than telling by supper’s end just how far his feelings for Greer had progressed. How strongly he felt about her. Protective in a way he’d never known before. Not only did he enjoy her company immensely but craved her presence. He wanted to be around her every waking moment. To see her smile and laugh and bloom.

Kissing her today had only amplified the stirrings he already suffered. Stirrings not just of the heart but of the flesh. He couldn’t remember a kiss having ever affected him as hers did. A chaste kiss at that, too. But it had. Profoundly. He’d wanted to sample more of her. Slip his tongue into her mouth. Lay her back in the grass. Come between her soft, slender thighs.

When Cecille kicked his leg under the table in warning, he realized with alarm that he’d been staring at Greer. Worse yet, by the lovely warming of her cheeks and the blatant frustration in Bartholomew’s regard, his gaze had been telling. How could it not be when he desired her so much? Cared for her?

“When did you say your brother was returning, Scot?” Bartholomew said tightly. “For I imagine you are ready to return to your people.”

The way he said “people” made his disgust for them obvious.

“Verra soon,” Teagan assured, more concerned by Bartholomew’s return the more he thought about it. Would Randolph tell him about the jewel this very night? Before they made their escape?

Because he remained convinced, Cecille’s brother would betray them somehow.

“Good,” Bartholomew said bluntly about Teagan leaving before his attention turned to Randolph. He went on to complain about miscreants causing problems at his estate hence his delayed return.

“Who were they?” Randolph asked.

“If I only knew.” Bartholomew made a dismissive gesture. “Peasants just out to cause trouble, I imagine. ”

Teagan shared a look with Cecille, who knew all about what Edmund had done. Peasants, his arse. Nay, his friend had received word from their scout and delayed Bartholomew. Something the lout remained clueless about as he rattled on about the worthless poor and their troublesome ways.

Meanwhile, rather than embracing the lively lass she was becoming, or, according to Cecille, who she’d once been, Greer kept her eyes downcast and barely touched her food.

If Teagan were to be perfectly honest, a part of him hoped Bartholomew pursued them to Scotland. He wanted a chance to fight him. To cut him down and make him bleed.

When dining came to an end, he made his way to the corridor Ada was supposed to meet him in, so he knew all was going according to plan. She was there as promised, both eagerness and mayhap a dash of fear in her eyes.

“My bairns are ready to go,” she informed.

“Good,” he replied. “How do they seem? Are they frightened? Will they be able to do this?”

“Aye, fear naught. Though nervous, they are also excited. More importantly, though, they know how to stick to the shadows and remain unseen.”

“They do,” he agreed.

“We will sneak down to the river soon,” she informed. “Then wait for ye where ye requested.” She glanced around to make sure no one was coming. “Cecille and Greer should be arguing in the garden soon.”

He nodded, having seen them stroll that way after supper.

“And what are you and your bairns to do if ye get caught?” he asked, going over what they had discussed earlier.

“Say we were but going for a swim.” She shrugged. “It wouldnae be the first time I have taken them down there at night.”

“And what of the satchels yer carrying? ”

“A change of clothes.”

He nodded again, satisfied that she had things well in hand. “All right then, stay safe, my friend. I will see ye again soon.”

“Aye, ye will.”

After they went their separate ways, he made his way down to the courtyard, only for Bartholomew to cut him off.

Reeking of whisky, the Sassenach narrowed his eyes and slurred, “Do you ever sleep, Scotsman? For you always seem to be skulking about in the shadows where you do not belong.”

As if he would know despite not being here the past fortnight.

“I’m but out for a wee bit o’ fresh air,” he replied cordially. It would be so easy to slice his dirk across the man’s soft neck. Quickly. Smoothly. Bartholomew would never see it coming.

“I think we both know you have no interest in fresh air,” Bartholomew bit out. “Greer is my wife, Scot.” He shook his head sharply and looked down his nose at Teagan. “Even if she were not, do you honestly think she would ever marry the likes of you?”

“I know she would,” he nearly said. “Because she is not your wife.”

Fantasy still in play, he would plunge his blade deep into Bartholomew’s blackened heart before the Sassenach had a chance to fall to his death.

Though Teagan nearly trembled with repressed rage, somehow, he managed to keep control. Rather, his mind brought him back to the village that awful day. He once again saw the brutalized women. Just like Greer might be at the hands of this man.

That and that alone kept his demons at bay.

His needed to see Greer free of this monster. Free of the life she would suffer with him. So he fought his rage to give her freedom. A chance to be the woman she should be rather than the lass she was becoming with men such as this.

He kept his expression cordial and spoke with a level of calm and respect he by no means felt. “I cannae imagine Mistress Greer ever looking my way. Her honor wouldnae allow it.”

“Yet she did look your way, did she not?” Bartholomew’s eyes narrowed. “Because you lured her somehow, you filthy—”

“Ah, t-t-there you are, Lord Bartholomew,” Alfred said, joining them. “I was h-hoping, I might s-speak with you for a m-moment.”

“What would I ever have to say to you?” Bartholomew didn’t bother looking his way. “You are too simple to hold a decent conversation.”

“Quite r-right,” Alfred stammered. “’Tis m-my uncle who s-summons you, though. For he has something dire to d-discuss with you.”

“Dire, you say?” Bartholomew frowned at him. “Why not speak with me earlier then?”

“I d-do not know.” Alfred shook his head. “He awaits you in his c-cabinet chamber.”

Bartholomew looked from Alfred to Teagan and back before he muttered under his breath about poor timing and strode off.

“Come on then, simpleton,” he snapped over his shoulder, never looking back.

“Y-you must go now,” Alfred whispered urgently to Teagan. “You p-proved you were a good man years ago, so t-take Greer and g-g-go as far as you can from this p-place before ’tis too late. Randolph means to betray his s-sister.”

Just as they suspected he might.

“Join us,” Teagan said without thinking but meaning it. He had no way of knowing where Alfred’s allegiances lay as a whole but knew him a man of good conscience. And, because he clearly paid attention, one of stealth and intelligence. “Ye need not stay here with these people.”

“And w-where would I g-go?” Alfred shook his head. “Your lot w-would not want me around anymore t-than this one.” He gestured in the direction of the river. “Now g-go and keep her s-safe. ”

“My lot would be happy to have ye,” he assured. “And I could use another fighting man to get the lasses and wee bairns out of here safely.”

Alfred thought about that before he nodded. “I will try. Until then, ’tis b-best I remain here and l-learn what I can of their p-plans. Perhaps even d-distract them.”

He nodded, seeing good sense in that. “Aye, wishing ye the verra best of luck, friend.”

“T-to you as well.” There was no missing how much Alfred cared for Greer. “Please see her well c-cared for.”

He would if it was the last thing he did.

Once Alfred hurried after Bartholomew, Teagan stuck to the shadows and made his way into the woodland behind the estate. He was never more grateful Randolph’s castle lacked a moat and second curtain wall. Otherwise, this plan would have been impossible. As it were, the men posted further out tended to scout the land betwixt the watchtowers fairly regularly. At least the two in four he and Greer had discussed.

He caught up with her and the others just over the river, relieved to find everyone well, if not nervous. Though he’d spoken to them about what they needed to do to get out safely, it didn’t make the mission any less dangerous.

Fortunately, Cecille and Ada could wield a blade. Though all three of them had given Greer pointers over the past few weeks, it did little to ease his mind. Having watched everyone practice, he knew they weren’t ready for what might come at them tonight.

Worse yet, they traveled with bairns.

“Which will very likely make these lasses fight all that much harder,” Edmund would say.

As requested, everyone kept quiet and fell in behind him single file. He’d walked these grounds several times over and saw well at night, so made his way without much issue. The key was to watch their step and remain perfectly quiet. Sneezes and coughs must be muffled. No dragging one’s feet through dried leaves.

Once they were beyond Randolph’s men, he’d get them where they intended to meet Edmund, then pray his friend made it before the Sassenach came looking. Something he feared would happen quickly.

Or, alarmingly enough, far sooner still, based on what happened next.