Read Online Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance by Tracy Anne Warren - Free Book Online
Authors: Tracy Anne Warren
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There’s money in there. Take it and
buy yourself a seat on the coach to London. The coach doesn’t stop at this inn, but
I’ve arranged for one of the stable hands to drive you over to a coaching inn where
you will be able to proceed on your way. Do not worry about repaying me. I’ll not
miss a few pounds.”
She grew still, her fear turning first to fire, then to ice. “You do not believe me,”
she whispered. “Like all the others, you think I am a fraud.”
His brows drew close, his words slow and carefully measured. “I think that you have
suffered a great fright and that you are confused. Shock can make people believe all
variety of things, some of them quite imaginative.”
Such as claiming to be a princess.
He didn’t say the words, but they hung in the air between them nevertheless.
So, he believes I am addled,
she mused.
Which was worse—liar or madwoman?
He sent her what she presumed was meant to be a reassuring smile. “My advice is that
you take the coach and go to visit your friends in London. By the time you reach the
city, I suspect things will seem less alarming and far clearer than they do now.”
Once again, he extended the envelope. “Take it. Let me help you.”
She shot him a disdainful look and made no effort to accept. “I have already told
you how you may assist me and you have refused. Pray do not trouble yourself further.”
His scowl deepened. “Doona be like that, lass.”
“I am
not
your lass.”
He rolled his eyes skyward. “Just take the money.”
“Thank you but I am not in the habit of accepting charity from others.” Actually,
she’d never even considered such an eventuality, particularly since she had always
been the one who gave to those less fortunate, not the other way around. How peculiar
to find herself in such straits.
“Then doona see it as charity,” he suggested. “Consider it a loan.”
“I would much rather you accept my offer to serve as my bodyguard.”
To her disappointment, he remained silent.
And vexing though it was to admit, he was right that she would need money if she had
any hope of reaching London on her own. But a loan was every bit as much out of the
question as taking charity. She scowled as an idea occurred to her, one that made
her sad even to consider.
“I propose an exchange,” she said. Reaching into the neck of her robe, she withdrew
a slender gold chain. On the end of it hung a crucifix, gleaming red and gold in the
early morning light.
“How much would you give me for this? It is quite an old piece, solid gold and inlaid
with rubies. It belonged to my grandmother, who received it as a gift from her grandmother.”
She waited, prepared to unfasten the clasp and hand over an heirloom she had cherished
from the day her beloved grandmother, the old queen, had given it to her on her thirteenth
birthday.
His eyebrows arched with surprise. “If that’s real, it must be worth a small fortune.”
She tilted up her chin. “Of course it is real.”
“Then I couldn’t possibly pay you what it’s worth.”
“But—”
“And why on earth, if you had that, did you no’ show it to the innkeeper last night?
He would have been bowing and scraping, offering you his best food and lodgings, rather
than threatening to toss you out into the lane.”
Mercedes considered the question for a moment, then shrugged. “I did not think of
it.”
He gave her an exasperated look, then rolled his eyes again.
“Well?” she said.
He glanced back. “Well what?”
“Will you buy this from me?” She brushed a finger over the pendant with undisguised
regret.
“Nae, lass,” he said. “I could no’ take your grandmother’s necklace from you, and
certainly not when I could no’ pay you even a fraction of its worth.”
“Then what am I to do?” she whispered.
His jaw tightened and he glanced away.
For a moment her heart beat faster with the hope that he was about to
buy yourself a seat on the coach to London. The coach doesn’t stop at this inn, but
I’ve arranged for one of the stable hands to drive you over to a coaching inn where
you will be able to proceed on your way. Do not worry about repaying me. I’ll not
miss a few pounds.”
She grew still, her fear turning first to fire, then to ice. “You do not believe me,”
she whispered. “Like all the others, you think I am a fraud.”
His brows drew close, his words slow and carefully measured. “I think that you have
suffered a great fright and that you are confused. Shock can make people believe all
variety of things, some of them quite imaginative.”
Such as claiming to be a princess.
He didn’t say the words, but they hung in the air between them nevertheless.
So, he believes I am addled,
she mused.
Which was worse—liar or madwoman?
He sent her what she presumed was meant to be a reassuring smile. “My advice is that
you take the coach and go to visit your friends in London. By the time you reach the
city, I suspect things will seem less alarming and far clearer than they do now.”
Once again, he extended the envelope. “Take it. Let me help you.”
She shot him a disdainful look and made no effort to accept. “I have already told
you how you may assist me and you have refused. Pray do not trouble yourself further.”
His scowl deepened. “Doona be like that, lass.”
“I am
not
your lass.”
He rolled his eyes skyward. “Just take the money.”
“Thank you but I am not in the habit of accepting charity from others.” Actually,
she’d never even considered such an eventuality, particularly since she had always
been the one who gave to those less fortunate, not the other way around. How peculiar
to find herself in such straits.
“Then doona see it as charity,” he suggested. “Consider it a loan.”
“I would much rather you accept my offer to serve as my bodyguard.”
To her disappointment, he remained silent.
And vexing though it was to admit, he was right that she would need money if she had
any hope of reaching London on her own. But a loan was every bit as much out of the
question as taking charity. She scowled as an idea occurred to her, one that made
her sad even to consider.
“I propose an exchange,” she said. Reaching into the neck of her robe, she withdrew
a slender gold chain. On the end of it hung a crucifix, gleaming red and gold in the
early morning light.
“How much would you give me for this? It is quite an old piece, solid gold and inlaid
with rubies. It belonged to my grandmother, who received it as a gift from her grandmother.”
She waited, prepared to unfasten the clasp and hand over an heirloom she had cherished
from the day her beloved grandmother, the old queen, had given it to her on her thirteenth
birthday.
His eyebrows arched with surprise. “If that’s real, it must be worth a small fortune.”
She tilted up her chin. “Of course it is real.”
“Then I couldn’t possibly pay you what it’s worth.”
“But—”
“And why on earth, if you had that, did you no’ show it to the innkeeper last night?
He would have been bowing and scraping, offering you his best food and lodgings, rather
than threatening to toss you out into the lane.”
Mercedes considered the question for a moment, then shrugged. “I did not think of
it.”
He gave her an exasperated look, then rolled his eyes again.
“Well?” she said.
He glanced back. “Well what?”
“Will you buy this from me?” She brushed a finger over the pendant with undisguised
regret.
“Nae, lass,” he said. “I could no’ take your grandmother’s necklace from you, and
certainly not when I could no’ pay you even a fraction of its worth.”
“Then what am I to do?” she whispered.
His jaw tightened and he glanced away.
For a moment her heart beat faster with the hope that he was about to
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