Karen Hawkins - MacLean 1 How to Abduct a Highland Lord Read online

  What was the man’s name? Ah, yes. “Thomas?”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Did you speak with her ladyship this evening?”

  “Yes, my lord. She came downstairs dressed to go out.”

  “Dressed?”

  “Yes, my lord. She looked quite elegant.”

  Bloody hell, she was probably wearing some of the clotheshe had bought for her, looking charming in a gownhe had chosen. “Did she tell you where she was going?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Thomas sent a wild glance at Devonsgate. Jack could not see the butler, but whatever gesture he’d made, Thomas swallowed noisily, stiffened his straight back even more, and said in an expressionless voice, “Her ladyship said she was going to a real, authentic gaming hell.”

  “Which one?” Jack asked grimly.

  “Lady Chester’s, sir.”

  Lady Chester was a fast widow who lived on the fringes of society. She ran one of the most dashing gaming hells in town. Every rakehell, scoundrel, and wastrel would be there. Jack knew, because he was acquainted with them all. “Did she say anything else?”

  Thomas swallowed again. “Yes, my lord. She—she said she was going to gamble away your entire fortune.”

  “She did, did she?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Thomas said miserably.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, my lord. She also stated that she was going to drink until she was tipsy, and—” Thomas seemed unable to go on.

  “Finish it,” Jack said in a harsh tone.

  “And flirt with every man in sight.” Thomas said the words so quickly they blurred.

  The absolute nerve of her! To go out on the town and gamble with his funds, drink until tipsy, and flirt withhis friends—it was untenable.

  In a blaze of white anger, he said through gritted teeth, “Was there anything else, Thomas?”

  “Yes, my lord. She was talking to herself quite a bit, muttering as if she was angry about something. She said she was finished taking good advice and her life turning out bad, so perhaps it was time to take some bad advice and hope for something better. At least that way, if it didn’t work, she wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Devonsgate cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold as to interject, sir. After her ride this morning, her ladyship mentioned that her brothers had given her some bad advice. She wished to know if mine had ever done the same.”

  “She is taking advice from Gregor and Dougal? I cannot believe they’d suggest she visit a gaming hell. An unescorted lady would be prey to all sorts of unwelcome behaviors.”

  “She didn’t go alone.”

  Jack stiffened and turned back to Thomas.

  “She—she sent word to a Mr. Campbell that she hoped to be out. He replied almost immediately that he would be glad to meet her there.”

  “Hell and blast! Campbell is the worst of the lot!”

  Thomas paled. “I—I—didn’t know, my lord!”

  “What is she thinking?” Jack snapped. “Have the phaeton brought around.”

  “But my lord,” Devonsgate said, “it has no cover. The weather has been very unpredictable of late.”

  Unpredictabledidn’t begin to describe it. “Bring it. I will be returning in the carriage, anyway.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Itwasn’t good. It was infuriating. Muscles tense, Jack ran up the stairs to change, his mind and emotions whirling.Fiona, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?

  But he already knew. She was mimicking him. All the way to hell.

  Just as Jack was speeding away from Kincaid House, Fiona arrived at the gaming hell.

  Campbell met her outside on the walk, impeccably dressed as ever. He was all smiles and compliments, flatteringly eager to escort her.

  Looking up at the brightly lit and noisy house that rose before her, she couldn’t help but be glad for the company.

  “You look ravishing,” Campbell said as they climbed the stairs of the establishment.

  She stopped on the top stair. “Campbell, before we begin, I think you should know I am only here because Jack and I had a huge row.”

  “I know.”

  She lifted her brows, and he smiled.

  “A married woman does not invite her husband’s enemy to escort her unless she is making a point.”

  Fiona flushed. “I do not mean to use you poorly.”

  “I didn’t think you would.” He captured her hand and pressed a light kiss to her fingers, his blue eyes twinkling at her. “Who am I to refuse to escort an intriguing woman to her first taste of sin?”

  She removed her hand from his. “I am glad to know I am not inconveniencing you.”

  “Not at all. I am always willing to discomfort Jack Kincaid.”

  “Why? What has he done to you?”

  “He has more,” Campbell said with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “More what?”

  Campbell’s gaze met hers. “Everything.”

  Suddenly uncomfortable, Fiona turned back to the doorway. “Shall we go in?”

  “Of course.” He bowed and gestured for her to precede him.

  Lady Chester’s looked exactly the way a gaming hell should. The foyer left Fiona with a mad impression of a swirl of rich red tapestries and deep wine-colored draperies, gilt-edged mirrors, and pictures depicting Roman debaucheries.

  Fiona looked around the crowd, seeing one or two faces she knew but many more she did not. This was the demimonde, those who hung about the fringes of society, mixing only with those who deigned to come down from their lofty perches to visit for such amusements as these.

  One of them, Lady Pendleton, who relied on her distant relationship to the duke of Rotheringham to gain her entrance into most houses in London, swooped upon them.

  An excessively silly woman given to gossip, Lady Pendleton rushed forward, giggling loudly. “La, there you are, Lady Kincaid! I thought that was you, though I couldn’t be certain in this light.”

  It certainly was dim. Fiona glanced up at the candle sconces and was surprised to see the light blocked by small panels of waxed paper.

  “And Alan Campbell!” Lady Pendleton exclaimed, looking between him to Fiona and back with an arch gaze. “I am so surprised to see the two of you here together! That just goes to show that you never know about people, do you?”

  Fiona’s cheeks burned. Campbell must have sensed her distress, for he quickly bid Lady Pendleton goodbye and bustled Fiona into the front parlor.

  “Odious woman!” Fiona said.

  “Very much so,” Campbell said, smiling down at her. “But please, do not allow her to destroy our pleasure. You wished to see a gaming hell, and this is the best to be had.”

  Fiona managed to smile back, though she was vastly uncomfortable. The room was filled with cigar smoke and raucous laughter. Tables were crammed into the space with barely any room to walk between them. Everywhere Fiona looked, she witnessed immodest behavior.

  The women were all dressed in the height of fashion, though they’d subtly altered their gowns. Fiona tried not to stare, but with so many flashing bosoms in the room, it was difficult not to. “Heavens,” she said weakly when a lady with a particularly low décolletage walked by. “I don’t know where to look.”

  Campbell chuckled and pulled her arm through his. “You don’t need to look anywhere except at me.”

  Fiona wished she’d asked Gregor or Dougal to bring her instead of Campbell, but she’d known her brothers would never have allowed her to come, no matter how much she begged. Looking around at the drunken crowd, she thought they might have been right.

  Either way, she was here now, and she might as well enjoy herself. At least until Jack arrived.If he came. She refused to think what she would do then.

  “Lady Kincaid—Fiona,” Campbell said. “Let’s find a table and try our hand at bucking the tiger.”

  “Bucking the tiger?”

  He smiled, his eyes twinkling down
at her. “That’s what you call it when you play faro. It’s a very simple game but quite swift-moving. I think you’ll like it.”

  She nodded, relieved to have something to occupy her mind. Campbell led her to a nearby faro table and seated her in a plush, gilt-edged chair. “Mr. Chumbly, Lord Penult-Mead, Lady Oppenheim, allow me to introduce a potential partner. This is Lady Kincaid, and she is new here in London.”

  Lord Penult-Mead brightened immediately. “New, are you? Excellent! Excellent! I am the banker tonight, my dear. If you need a line of credit, just say the word, and I’ll open one for you.”

  She glanced up at Campbell, who stood behind her chair. He bent and whispered, “Shall I frank you, my dear? Would that suit you better?”

  She flushed. It wouldn’t suit her at all, but she would rather owe Campbell than a stranger. “Would you mind?”

  He bent low and pressed a heavy coin into her hand. “It’s a pleasure to frank such a beautiful player.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I will pay you back, of course.”

  He laughed. “As you wish. Just start low in your bidding. When you feel as if you’ve lost too much, then quit.”

  That didn’t sound too bad. “Thank you. I am afraid I don’t know the rules.”

  Lady Oppenheim, who looked very much like a large pug dressed in puce silk and ostrich feathers, waved a bejeweled hand. “Oh, it’s quite easy, my dear. We are playing against Lord Penult-Mead, as he is the banker. The rest of us are called the punters. You purchase checks from the banker”—she indicated some round, coinlike chips that sat on the table before her—“and use those to place your wagers.”

  Fiona listened carefully as Lady Oppenheim explained the details of the game. It did seem remarkably easy, though there was a lot to remember.

  As if reading her mind, Campbell leaned in and whispered, “Do not worry, my dear. I will be here to assist you.”

  His breath brushed her ear, and though it felt pleasant, it didn’t awaken the response she would have felt with Jack.

  It was a dismal thought, and she forced herself to apply her attention to the game, even though part of her was wistfully watching the doorway.

  Fiona played only two hands before Jack arrived, and she knew the moment he walked in. Not only did her body tingle as if touched, but the room grew loud with cries of welcome. Even Lady Oppenheim waved her handkerchief.

  Jack came directly toward her, looking dangerously handsome in his black evening clothes, his dark auburn hair falling across his brow, his blue eyes steady on her.

  She clutched her hand around her markers and tried to calm her racing heart.

  Campbell didn’t seem to notice Jack’s presence until he was almost at the table.

  “Fiona,” Jack said.

  Campbell started, his hands tightening on the back of her chair, yet he said nothing.

  “Fiona,” Jack said. “It is time we went home.”

  Fiona grabbed a handful of markers and randomly placed them on the board.

  Lady Oppenheim shook her head. “My dear, have a care. That is a risky wager, indeed.”

  Fiona kept her head up high. “It’s what I wish to do.”

  “Very well,” Lady Oppenheim said in a doubtful voice. “Just do not cry to me when you lose.”

  Lord Penult-Mead dealt the card.

  “Excellent!” Campbell said. “You won, my dear!”

  Good. Then perhaps she could pay Campbell back before the evening was over. Her Scottish soul detested the thought of owing money.

  Jack had crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you through yet?”

  Actually, she was. She didn’t like the smoke or the hubbub or the quality of people. She’d much rather go home or have a quiet evening with friends, but she was not about to admit that to Jack.

  “I am just beginning to enjoy myself.”

  He reached for her arm. “We are leaving.”

  She freed herself. “No, we are not.You may leave, but I am staying.”

  He glowered down at her, his powerful hands opening and closing. Her partners at the table watched with interest as he leaned down until his eyes were even with hers. “Fiona, it’s time to go home,now .”

  She didn’t flinch. “As you said before, we are completely independent of each other. You may do as you wish, and I may do as I wish.”

  “That is not acceptable.”

  “It’s all you’ll get,” she said in a heated tone.

  Campbell had remained quiet throughout this altercation. Fiona wasn’t even certain he was still standing with her.

  “Very well,” Jack said. “If you wish to stay, then stay. I will do the same. Just don’t expect me to change my behavior because you are present.”

  “I expectnothing from you.” She waved a hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you are interrupting our play.”

  He glowered, then turned on his heel and left.

  Within seconds, he was surrounded by a bevy of attractive women and a group of rather dissolute-looking men.

  Campbell’s hand came to rest on Fiona’s shoulder. “Forgive me for saying this, but your husband is a hothead.”

  Campbell didn’t know the half of it. “He has had a bad day.”

  “Are we ready to begin?” Lord Penult-Mead asked.

  “I hope so!” Lady Oppenheim huffed. “I am quite determined to win back my markers. Lady Kincaid, I believe it’s your turn.”

  Fiona quickly placed her wager.

  The next hour was pure hell. Campbell stayed by her side, whispering advice in her ear and paying her overblown compliments. She pretended to be interested in what he was saying, but she was painfully aware of Jack across the room, looking dangerously handsome as he played at another table.

  She simply could not help peeking at him, noting the way his breeches clung to his thighs. The way he quite eclipsed everyone else in the room with his broad shoulders. The way his hair fell over his brow, shadowing his eyes until they looked black instead of dark blue. The way every woman in the room was doing exactly what Fiona was doing: watching Jack.

  Blast it all, what were they thinking? He washer husband!

  “Ah, I wondered when she’d arrive,” Campbell said softly, looking at the doorway.

  Fiona followed his gaze and saw Lucinda Featherington cross the room to Jack’s table. She stiffened. “I didn’t know that woman came to places like this.”

  Campbell shrugged. “She goes anywhere she thinks she might find Jack.”

  Lucinda spoke to Jack. Fiona watched closely, catching a flash of emotion on Jack’s face. It came and went so quickly she couldn’t tell what it meant, but Lucinda laughed and took the chair next to his.

  Fiona fumed. Who did that woman think she was? Hadn’t she learned her lesson yet?

  Fiona caught Jack’s eye. Slowly, their gazes locked, and he reached his arm along the back of Lucinda’s chair.

  Lucinda needed no more encouragement. She leaned toward Jack, pressing her bosom against his arm, gazing up into his eyes with open invitation.

  “Lady Kincaid.” Lady Oppenheim’s rather strident voice cut through the air. “It’s your play again. Please pay attention!”

  Flushing, Fiona smacked markers on various cards without paying the slightest heed to what she was doing.

  “Careful,” Campbell said.

  “I am tired of being careful,” she said, unable to keep her eyes on her cards.

  Campbell looked at her face, then glanced back to Jack’s table. Fiona’s gaze followed Campbell’s. Lucinda was whispering in Jack’s ear. He was listening with an absent smile, his gaze locked on his cards. As Fiona watched, Lucinda looked across the room, directly at her. A cool, triumphant smile flickered over Lucinda’s lips.

  Fiona rose from her chair, but Campbell’s hand pressed her back into her seat. Thunder rumbled outside.

  “Easy, my sweet. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of making a scene.” He glanced at the window as lighting flashed, a thoughtful loo
k on his face.

  “‘Making a scene’ doesn’t even begin to describe what I wish to do.”

  “Do as you wish, of course. I just thought you’d rather have your dignity than revenge,” Campbell said.