Read Online My Highland Lord (Highland Lords) by Tarah Scott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tarah Scott
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she said.
“I had hoped Regan would meet us here," he said, "but I can't wait any longer. I must press north. Connor will be here to see you early this morning. If he says you can ride, we'll travel together.”
How was she going to escape him and get word to Alistair of the plan to assassinate the duchess? Phoebe closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Are you ill, Heddy?”
“There's a good chance I will be.”
“Shall I fetch the chamber pot?”
“Only if you wish me to brain you with it.” She looked at him. “Don't you understand what this means?”
“That you are ill, or that you wish to do me bodily harm?”
“Lord Stoneleigh isn't coming—because I am not Hester.”
“If that is true, when I return, you and I will get better acquainted.”
Her pulse quickened. “It is imperative I return home.”
“And I must continue north,” he replied.
Why force her to go with him? At this point, his attempt to play cupid was dashed. Had he come to doubt she was Heddy? Surely he wasn't serious about getting better acquainted? He'd said he'd planned to secure an introduction at Drucilla’s soirée.
“What is so pressing that you must return to Edinburgh, Heddy?”
She shook her head. “Not Edinburgh, England.”
“ England, then?”
“What awaits you in the north?” she said. “You don't strike me as a man displaced from his home.”
“My home is nowhere near the duchess.”
“I see.” Phoebe nodded. “Kidnapping women, stalking robbers in the night, dabbling in murder conspiracies, it is you who suffers a nasty case of ennui.”
“But you have solved that problem, my dear,” he replied.
“Lord Stoneleigh won't appreciate you kidnapping me,” she shot back in desperation. By now her uncle must know she was missing. If he was on following her as he had been she’d eloped with Brandon, Kiernan MacGregor was likely to receive a bullet through his heart.
“So my money isn't enough, then?” Kiernan said.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. Perhaps he deserved the bullet.
*****
Baron Ty Arlington closed the door to his mother's bedchambers as he entered. She sat on the settee overlooking the small garden in their Carlisle home, and looked up. The smile on her face faltered.
He strode to her, his fury barely held in check. "Where is Phoebe, mother?"
"W-what ? How should I know?"
"She's been missing four days. Don't toy with me. I'll wring your beautiful neck, then make sure your precious Clive hangs for your murder."
Her eyes widened. "Ty, I don't know what you mean by Clive—"
"I am well aware you've been spreading your legs for him these last three months," Ty snarled. "Unlike your husband, I am no fool. What did you do with my cousin?"
"We—I— did it for you," she sobbed
Blood roared through his ears. "Did what?"
"You know she won't marry you," his mother rushed on. "We must gain control of her inheritance. If she is dead—"
Ty seized his mother's arm and dragged her to within an inch of his face. "If she dies before I marry her, we won't get a damned thing. There's a stipulation in her mother's will that if Phoebe dies before marrying, her money goes to a distant cousin."
His mother gasped.
"That's right," he said. "Lady Wallington didn't trust us."
"Us? But we never hurt her."
"Only because she had the good grace to die of a fever first." He gave his mother a violent shake that jarred dark curls loose from their pins. "What did you do?"
"Phoebe isn't dead," she got out between sobs, then began to cry harder.
Rage flashed in a blinding light through his brain befor e her words penetrated. Ty shoved her back onto the couch and she fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief. He pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it in front of her face. She hesitated.
"Take it," he ordered.
She took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "You can be so cruel," she said through a dramatic hiccup.
"Like mother like son."
Her head snapped up and her eyes locked onto
“I had hoped Regan would meet us here," he said, "but I can't wait any longer. I must press north. Connor will be here to see you early this morning. If he says you can ride, we'll travel together.”
How was she going to escape him and get word to Alistair of the plan to assassinate the duchess? Phoebe closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Are you ill, Heddy?”
“There's a good chance I will be.”
“Shall I fetch the chamber pot?”
“Only if you wish me to brain you with it.” She looked at him. “Don't you understand what this means?”
“That you are ill, or that you wish to do me bodily harm?”
“Lord Stoneleigh isn't coming—because I am not Hester.”
“If that is true, when I return, you and I will get better acquainted.”
Her pulse quickened. “It is imperative I return home.”
“And I must continue north,” he replied.
Why force her to go with him? At this point, his attempt to play cupid was dashed. Had he come to doubt she was Heddy? Surely he wasn't serious about getting better acquainted? He'd said he'd planned to secure an introduction at Drucilla’s soirée.
“What is so pressing that you must return to Edinburgh, Heddy?”
She shook her head. “Not Edinburgh, England.”
“ England, then?”
“What awaits you in the north?” she said. “You don't strike me as a man displaced from his home.”
“My home is nowhere near the duchess.”
“I see.” Phoebe nodded. “Kidnapping women, stalking robbers in the night, dabbling in murder conspiracies, it is you who suffers a nasty case of ennui.”
“But you have solved that problem, my dear,” he replied.
“Lord Stoneleigh won't appreciate you kidnapping me,” she shot back in desperation. By now her uncle must know she was missing. If he was on following her as he had been she’d eloped with Brandon, Kiernan MacGregor was likely to receive a bullet through his heart.
“So my money isn't enough, then?” Kiernan said.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. Perhaps he deserved the bullet.
*****
Baron Ty Arlington closed the door to his mother's bedchambers as he entered. She sat on the settee overlooking the small garden in their Carlisle home, and looked up. The smile on her face faltered.
He strode to her, his fury barely held in check. "Where is Phoebe, mother?"
"W-what ? How should I know?"
"She's been missing four days. Don't toy with me. I'll wring your beautiful neck, then make sure your precious Clive hangs for your murder."
Her eyes widened. "Ty, I don't know what you mean by Clive—"
"I am well aware you've been spreading your legs for him these last three months," Ty snarled. "Unlike your husband, I am no fool. What did you do with my cousin?"
"We—I— did it for you," she sobbed
Blood roared through his ears. "Did what?"
"You know she won't marry you," his mother rushed on. "We must gain control of her inheritance. If she is dead—"
Ty seized his mother's arm and dragged her to within an inch of his face. "If she dies before I marry her, we won't get a damned thing. There's a stipulation in her mother's will that if Phoebe dies before marrying, her money goes to a distant cousin."
His mother gasped.
"That's right," he said. "Lady Wallington didn't trust us."
"Us? But we never hurt her."
"Only because she had the good grace to die of a fever first." He gave his mother a violent shake that jarred dark curls loose from their pins. "What did you do?"
"Phoebe isn't dead," she got out between sobs, then began to cry harder.
Rage flashed in a blinding light through his brain befor e her words penetrated. Ty shoved her back onto the couch and she fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief. He pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it in front of her face. She hesitated.
"Take it," he ordered.
She took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "You can be so cruel," she said through a dramatic hiccup.
"Like mother like son."
Her head snapped up and her eyes locked onto
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