Caught by the Scot Page 7

  Conner sent Theodora a look under his lashes, and she found herself holding her breath. Please don’t say a word about the ridiculous errand you came on. Please.

  It would just make things awkward. Lance would never understand her relationship with Conner. She wasn’t sure she understood it herself.

  Conner shrugged. “ ’Twas pure happenstance. I was driving through and found myself parched. Imagine my surprise on finding Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe sitting here in the parlor.”

  Lance chuckled. “I’m glad you weren’t sent here by her parents or brother, as I would hate to have engaged you in a duel.”

  Conner’s smile froze, a hard look entering his eyes. “Oh?”

  A clatter arose in the hallway, and the maid finally arrived with tea and cakes. Theodora had never been happier to see a tea tray in her life.

  The girl set down the tray but made no move to serve the tea, merely gazing at Conner with a come hither look until Theodora snapped out, “That will be enough. I will pour.”

  The maid dragged her gaze from Conner. “Oh. I’m sorry, miss. I can pour. I was just—”

  “No, thank you.” Theodora picked up the pot. “You may leave.”

  The maid sent a final glance at Conner from under her lashes and, with a reluctant curtsy, left the room.

  Theodora looked at the three cups. “Who would like some tea?”

  Conner held up his whisky glass. “Nae for me, thank you.”

  “I’ll take some,” Lance said.

  She handed him a cup of tea before filling her own, the steam carrying the scent of bergamot and cinnamon.

  Lance started to take a sip, but then paused. “We should have told the maid to set another place for dinner.”

  Theodora almost choked on her tea, managing to croak, “Conner is not staying for dinner! He—he is on a family errand, and cannot stay.” She pinned him with a stern look. “Aren’t you?”

  “I am,” he said promptly. “Fortunately, my errand can wait, and I would be happy to stay for dinner.”

  She glared at him over her teacup.

  Blissfully unaware he’d just been visually fried, Conner stretched out his legs, looking even more relaxed. “I can stay even longer than dinner, too—”

  She smacked her cup into the saucer, tea splashing over the cup lip. “No, you cannot.”

  His brows rose, humor shimmering in his gaze while Lance looked at her with a startled expression.

  She refused to back down. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but you have an important errand. I’m sure we’ll miss you, but never fear, we’ll see that you’ve some dinner to take with you.” To keep Conner from refuting her yet again, she turned to Lance, a smile plastered on her face. “What is the word on the wheel? You returned faster than I expected.”

  “Ah. Yes. That’s because I rushed like a madman; I hated leaving you here alone.”

  “She was nae alone,” Conner pointed out.

  Lance’s smile slipped a bit. “So it appears, but I wasn’t aware of that.” After an awkward moment, he turned back to Theodora. “I do not have the best of news on the wheel. It can be repaired, but the closest wheelwright is located in Sheffield.”

  “Sheffield? Good God, that’s at least three days from here. Surely there’s someone closer!”

  “Sadly, there is not. All in all, it could be a week or more before we’re back on the road.”

  “No!” At this rate, she’d never be married! It seemed to Theodora that her boring, staid past had just reached through time to hold her in place. “Surely there’s a wheelwright closer than Sheffield.”

  “I fear not. To be honest, we’re fortunate there’s one as close as that. There are no large towns in this area.” Lance smiled encouragingly. “Come, Theodora, a week is not so long. At least we’re at this delightful inn and not stranded upon the road.”

  She glanced about the common room, noting the threadbare curtains and the lack of cushions on the chairs, which hinted at very poor conditions for the beds. She wished she’d examined the one in her room, but her mind had been elsewhere.

  Disheartened, and far too aware of Conner’s intense gaze, she forced herself to swallow her disappointment. “You’re right, of course. We’ll be fine here.” She collected herself a bit more. “Better than fine. I’m sure we’ll be quite cozy.”

  Conner’s gaze swept the room, lingering in the same places Theodora’s had. “It’s quite a rustic inn, is it nae? But then, that is what makes it romantic.”

  “Exactly!” Lance beamed. “It has its own brand of charm.”

  Theodora found herself saying with far more enthusiasm than she might have otherwise, “It will be an adventure of sorts.”

  Lance smiled proudly. “That’s my girl!”

  Conner’s brows rose at the “girl,” and Theodora, avoiding his gaze, busied herself by refreshing her cup of tea. “I can use the extra time to get my clothing back in order. Everything I have is wet.”

  Lance made a face. “I wish my sister Arabella was here to help. She is especially talented at organizing clothing and mending and such.”

  At the word “sister,” Theodora slipped a glance at Conner. His gaze was locked on his whisky, a bleak expression in his eyes.

  Theodora’s throat tightened yet again and she wasn’t the least surprised when Conner set aside his glass and stood. “Pardon me, but I just realized I must see to my horse.”

  Lance looked at him in disbelief. “Right now?”

  “Aye. He gets a wee bit nervous around people he dinnae know.”

  Lance put down his cup as if to rise, but Conner threw up a hand. “Dinnae get oop. ’Twill nae take me long to see to the animal. It’ll be easier once my coach arrives and brings my servants to—” His brows knit. “Hmm.” Conner didn’t say anything more but rubbed his chin as if he’d been struck by a thought.

  Lance politely asked, “Yes? What is it?”

  “It just struck me that as, er, romantic as this inn is, I know neither of you are eager to stay whilst the wheel is being repaired. If you’d like, you could use my coach to continue to Gretna. It’s coming doon this very road as ’tis following me. In fact, it should arrive tomorrow.”

  “You don’t plan on riding in it yourself?” Lance asked.

  “Och, nae. I dislike being shut oop in a coach. Besides, I have my horse and as I’ve said, I’m in nae hurry.” Conner nodded as if it were decided. “You will use my coach to continue your trip.”

  Theodora said “No!” even as Lance exclaimed, “Of course!”

  Her face hot, she sent a hard look at her intended.

  He looked confused. “Theodora, I don’t know how we can say no, unless you want to wait here while our wheel is repaired.”

  “We couldn’t possibly importune Mr. Douglas in such a way.”

  “Och, I’ve nae plans to use it, so you may as weel take it. You may return it later, once you’ve married your squire.”

  Lance couldn’t have looked happier. “By Zeus, that would be just the thing. Are you certain you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. In fact”—Conner’s gaze slipped to Theodora—“I insist.”

  Lance stood and grasped Conner’s hand in both of his and pumped it heartily. “Thank you! It’s most generous. I can see now why Theodora is always talking about you.”

  “It’s nothing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have a word with the innkeeper to bespeak a bedchamber.”

  Theodora had just taken a sip of tea to calm her sinking heart, but at Conner’s words, she looked up, her mind racing. Stay? Why?

  As if he could hear her question, Conner added, “The weather’s looking a bit grim and I dislike riding in the rain. I caught the ague once from such a turn of weather, and I’ve avoided it since.”

  She gritted her teeth. What are you doing? The inn was so small, and had so few rooms, that only a narrow hallway or a thin wall would separate her from Conner. The last thing she wanted was to spend the night within feet of where he was t
o be sleeping.

  Yet despite her irritation at his machinations, her heart fluttered at the thought of being so close to him, and her mouth felt oddly dry as the memory of their kiss flickered through her.

  Was it wrong that she had no reaction about the nearness of her fiancé, and was all too aware of Conner’s? I’m sure it’s perfectly understandable, she told herself firmly. Conner is unprincipled enough to take advantage of that nearness, while Lance would never do so. Yet another reason why Conner is not the sort of man one should marry.

  The wind lifted a bit and rattled the windows, as if in cahoots with Conner.

  That seemed to decide Lance, who said, “The wind is lifting. Douglas, you were wise not to continue today.”

  “I’m fairly guid at reading the weather.” Conner walked to the door, looking far too pleased with himself for Theodora’s peace of mind. “If you’ll pardon me, I will give you two lovebirds some privacy while I speak with our host aboot a bedchamber.”

  “But—” Theodora began.

  “I insist.” He bowed, sending her a particularly winsome smile as he left, whistling a merry sea ditty as he disappeared out the door.

  Theodora’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Lance had just walked into a trap of some sort, one too complex for her to see. Blast it, Conner, what are you up to? What can you hope to gain through this?

  Whatever it was, she’d figure it out and whoa betide the man then!

  7

  Much to his amusement, the rain Conner had fictitiously predicted arrived during dinner. He made certain to say several times how glad he was he’d decided to stay, which the squire readily agreed with, making Thea glower.

  Dinner had been every bit as awkward as Conner had expected. Thea was quiet and taciturn, while her beau attempted to pull her from her obvious doldrums by expounding on his latest plan for crop rotation, a subject Conner found painfully boring. Even the green-thumbed Thea couldn’t seem to muster a hint of enthusiasm. After dinner she’d abruptly excused herself, saying she was tired from the day’s events, and limped from the room.

  The good squire had tried to excuse her behavior, which had bothered him far more than it had Conner. Thea had good reason for her irritation, although he was more than willing to risk her ire in order to make his point.

  Still, Conner hadn’t minded the time alone with Fox. A toasty fire, a bottle of good whisky, and two hours of jovial storytelling had given Conner the opportunity to explore his enemy’s weaknesses.

  Thus this morning, even though Conner had awoken with a fuzzy head, he was well satisfied that he’d not only gained the squire’s trust, but had also planted a few seeds of future discord. Conner went downstairs and found that breakfast had been set up in the empty parlor, but the fresh breeze outside offered some solace for his heavy head, so he opted to take a walk instead. The rain had left the morning cooler, the leaves and cobblestones freshly washed, the roads newly muddied. It was a sun-drenched day, the sky a pure blue, and he felt more at peace than at any moment since Anna’s death. His heart was slowly healing, and pursuing Thea was serving as a much-needed—and entertaining—distraction.

  Turning his face to the sun, Conner leaned against the wall of the inn and mulled over his next move. He knew two things well—privateering and women. If he wished to win this game and have Thea to wife, then the decision to end her engagement would have to be hers—which meant he had to convince her that he was the far better choice of husband, and that could take some doing.

  He’d picked up a few clues at dinner last night. The squire had been openly courting Thea, and her discomfort with that attention had been obvious, although the squire didn’t seem to notice. She was a private person, not given to public displays, but the squire hadn’t honed in on that yet. This lack of attention on the squire’s part emphasized the differences between the couple, which showed promise. Unfortunately, it also showed the squire’s commitment to wooing Thea, which couldn’t be quickly dismissed.

  On the surface, Lance seemed uncomplicated and straightforward. If he was happy, he smiled. If he was sad, he frowned. There were no shades of gray to be pondered, no hidden agendas, and thus far, no covert attempts to thwart Conner’s presence.

  Conner pulled a cigar from his pocket and rolled it between his fingertips, the fragrant scent lifting his spirits. This errand was proving far more difficult than he’d expected. Or rather, Thea was proving more difficult, and stubborn, and . . . He couldn’t say disappointing, because she was being true to who she’d always been, strong-willed and calmly focused on what she thought to be right. It was what he’d always liked about her, but he now realized that it also meant she wouldn’t be nearly as malleable as he’d rather foolishly imagined. Hmm. Was it possible his expectations of her as a wife were a bit off, too?

  It was possible she wouldn’t quietly sit back while he went to sea for months on end, or established himself in London for part of a season without her presence now and again. In fact, now that he was no longer indulging in the brotherly braggadocio that had first sent him on this quest, he had to admit that while Thea wasn’t overly sentimental, neither was she without pride. She would demand a high level of respect.

  He thought of the flash of her eyes when he’d blithely informed her of their impending marriage. While it revealed a large flaw in his earlier thinking, it hadn’t put him off. Instead, he was intrigued and challenged. She’d surprised him, and it felt as if he were seeing her for the first time, meeting her for the first time. He supposed that made sense as before now, he’d always visited her while she was at her home, with her parents or brother. But here she was on her own, and he was intrigued at the difference. The new Thea—or perhaps it was the more honest Thea—could not be easily won over, and he would have to adjust his plans accordingly.

  He laughed softly and lit his cigar. Sparring with her was as exhilarating as a sea battle. He’d assumed he wanted a quiet, complacent wife, but he had to admit that he appreciated her spirit. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, which added a layer of challenge he was enjoying far more than he’d expected. His wife would need to be independent if she were going to run Dunskey House while he was at sea. Of course, it might also mean she’d expect him to visit their home far more often than he’d imagined.

  Home. It was a distant word for someone who’d lost his at such an early age. For try as she would, Anna hadn’t been able to make any place feel the way their home had when their parents were alive. What would “home” mean with Thea? She was dashed good at organizing things; he’d seen the way she’d taken over the many, many temporary moves her family had undertaken. She was the one who evaluated their assigned living quarters and, when necessary, hired out a new one, decided which furniture (if any) would go, saw to the delivery of necessary items, made certain their travel arrangements were comfortable, oversaw the hiring of servants—the list was truly impressive. And she’d done this yearly, sometimes more often, depending on her father’s assignments.

  He imagined Thea at Dunskey House and had to admit that he could see nothing but good coming from it. Damn, it would be nice having a well-organized, smoothly running home to come to when his ship was in port. He could see himself sitting before a fire, dinner ready nearby, Thea at his side, smiling as she refilled his whisky glass— He snorted. As if she’d refill my glass. It’s far more likely I’ll be refilling hers. But there was a certain charm in that, too.

  He was making the right decision to woo Thea; he was certain. His only other option was to leave and find another female to meet the requirements of the will, and he couldn’t picture that. Although there were always plenty of women on the marriage mart who wanted money over all else, none were so interesting, so comfortable, so amusing, so . . . everything. Compared to Thea, the thought of marrying a stranger was distasteful.

  He glanced up at her window, noting the lace curtains were still drawn against the morning sun. What would it be like to wake up in her bed, to roll
over and pull her near? To place a kiss on her neck and warm her body to wakefulness—

  His cock stirred, and he grinned. There were more benefits to be had by marrying Thea than he’d originally realized. Which was why he’d offered his carriage.

  It would take time to dissuade Thea from her intention to marry Fox, time for Conner to convince her that he and she would make a better couple, so he had to slow the pace of their rather poorly planned elopement. The more time she spent in the good squire’s company, the better. Meanwhile, Conner would find ways to subtly point out the differences between Thea and her beau, and if possible, exacerbate them.

  It was unfortunate he couldn’t race in and sink the squire’s ship immediately in a glorifying blaze—which would be most satisfying, but would put Thea on alert. But Conner could make certain the winds weren’t favorable for the eloping couple. If things worked as he hoped, the hapless squire’s pursuit would founder on rocks of his own making.

  Conner smiled, thinking of the suspicion in Thea’s eyes when he’d offered his coach. Och, you know me weel, my dear. He’d have to steer lightly through the shoals of her suspicions and be careful not to throw up an alarm, but he was fairly certain he could do it—especially with such a rich prize awaiting.

  Lance’s voice came from somewhere inside the inn, raised as if in greeting. Was Thea already up? Conner dropped his cigar and ground it out with his heel, and then moved closer to the parlor window, remaining out of sight. Through the glass, he could hear Lance saying in a placating voice, “Theodora, pray reconsider!”

  Well, that was promising!

  “No. I cannot believe you made this decision without consulting me.”

  Oh ho, a fight! Conner leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, unable to keep from smiling.

  “Theodora, you must understand. I thought of it late last night, and as I couldn’t imagine you’d disagree, I saw to it first thing this morning, before you awoke. Once you’ve had time to consider everything, you’ll agree I did what was best for us both.”