The Sinful Scot (Saints & Scoundrels) Read online

  “Such a comfort, that,” Connie dryly remarked. “I’d forgotten how honest you were.”

  Alec looked briefly taken aback, but then a slow smile replaced the frown. “Aye, you used to hate it.” For a brief moment they shared a grin. But then Alec’s eyes became serious. “I think I’d best find out what the man is doing, though.”

  “And how do you intend to do that?”

  “In a few seconds, I’m going to start riding hard for him,” Alec replied. “When I do, I want you to ride for the opposite tree line, and then make sure you can’t be seen from the road.”

  Connie shook her head. “I have no intention of hiding while you face possible danger.”

  “We need to know what the fellow is doing here.” His voice was infinitely patient. “If he means no harm, then all will be fine.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Connie felt like screaming at him. “You said yourself, you don’t know if he has a rifle with him. What if he does?”

  He winked at her. “Then I’d best ride toward him quickly. Rifles are terrible at close range.”

  “I think a bullet would still do damage if it struck your flesh, would it not? Regardless of the range?”

  “I’ll be fine. Now, when I tell you to ride, I want you to ri—”

  “I’m done with being a coward. If you’re going to put yourself in harm’s way, then I shall, too.” Connie pressed her heels into her horse’s flank, and before she could change her mind, she urged the animal toward where Alec had said he saw the man. She could hear Alec swearing as the sounds of horse hooves followed closely behind.

  She couldn’t believe she’d done such a thing. But she was sick and tired of the men in her life treating her like she couldn’t do anything of use. And she wasn’t going to let Alec think he could do so, too, even if he was trying only to protect her.

  It was time she showed both of them that she was more than capable of taking an active part in all facets of their investigation. Even if it meant riding toward a man who possibly had a weapon within easy reach.

  Good Lord give me courage.

  …

  Glenn stood silent, hidden among the trees, simply watching the duchess as she and a man rode along the path in the distance. His employer would not be happy to learn that her grace wasn’t traveling alone.

  “She looks prettier in person than in her picture,” his companion, Troy, whispered from behind him. “But she’s with a bloke. I thought she weren’t meant to be with no one else.”

  Controlling his wish to tell Troy to stop being an idiot, Glenn swirled around to face the man. “She wasn’t. But she is, so we’re not going to be able to rescue her now, are we?”

  “Why not?” His companion cracked his knuckles together. “I reckon the two of us can take ’im.”

  Glenn glanced back to the man riding alongside the duchess and quickly disagreed with his companion’s assessment. The man with the lady looked as tall and broad as an ox, and he held himself in the saddle with an air of competence. It was the same man he’d seen speak with the duchess at the ball the other night, and definitely not someone to be trifled with. “I doubt it. Plus, the gentleman is most likely armed.”

  “What? So we just gonna let the lady get away?”

  His employer wouldn’t like it at all, but what choice did they have? Besides, if they were heading to Inverness, as his employer thought they were, there would be plenty of opportunity in the city to get her away from the gent and take her to the safe house. “We are. Go and ready the horses; I’ll meet you at the clearing in a minute.”

  His companion trekked back through the forest, presumably to where they’d left their horses, while Glenn watched the duchess for a moment more.

  He still couldn’t understand why she was heading to Inverness when she should be fleeing as far from Scotland as she could. Perhaps she was trying to clear her name?

  For a moment, he wished he could tell her the truth, and why he was helping to do what he was doing. But he couldn’t. He’d promised his sister before she died that he would get his revenge on those who had perpetrated such an evil act upon her. And Glenn would ensure she and the other ladies had their vengeance, even from the grave.

  But until he did, he was sworn to secrecy.

  He got a fright when suddenly the duchess spurred her horse and began riding toward him, with the gentleman following closely behind. It appeared as if she was looking almost directly at him. He had to get out of there, because one thing his employer had been more than clear about was that he was not to get caught.

  He scrambled backward and began to run through the forest to where the horses were tethered.

  “We have to leave now,” he yelled to Troy, who was already astride his horse. The man needed no further encouragement and took off down the track without a backward glance.

  It took Glenn a hasty few goes to get up on the saddle, as he was not a confident rider by any means. But he sent up a prayer when he managed to sit himself astride the beast and urge the horse away from the area. The duchess must have seen him hiding among the trees, though he hoped he was far enough away that she hadn’t been able to recognize him from the castle.

  As his heart rate eased the farther he got away from the area, a new sense of worry began to take ahold of him. His employer would not be happy he’d been unable to secure secure the duchess. Though, her grace had that gentleman with her. So it wasn’t actually Glenn’s fault he couldn’t get her.

  He wondered if his employer would see it in that light. He doubted it.

  His employer was rather exacting and had been in a rage since killing the duke. Glenn didn’t understand why. Not really. But then, his employer had funny ideas sometimes. Sometimes Glenn even wondered if madness ran through his employer’s family.

  He rather suspected it did. Which may not bode so well for Glenn himself.

  Though he was on God’s mission, so surely the Lord would steer his employer’s wrath away from Glenn himself. He dearly hoped so and shuddered to think what might happen if the rage was redirected at him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Connie drew closer to the spot where Alec had seen the man and could just glimpse a figure dashing back through the bushes away from her before she lost sight of him altogether.

  She reined her horse to a halt, near to where she’d first seen him standing, and surveyed the ground. Alec pulled his horse up beside her, and she noticed he was holding a pistol in his right hand.

  “Next time you decide to go tearing off toward a potential threat without a word of warning,” he ground out, “don’t.”

  “You would have stopped me from coming.” She scanned the ground and could see two sets of footprints.

  “Damn right I would have!” Alec jumped down from his horse, his whole body braced and alert.

  “Well, quite frankly, I’m tired of always being timid and afraid,” Connie replied. “I just wanted to be brave for a little bit.”

  Alec sighed. “At least give me a warning first, all right?”

  “Very well,” Connie said, following Alec’s lead and dismounting from her own mare. “Looks like there were two of them, and they tore off down that way.” She pointed to the north from where they stood.

  “You still remember my tracking lessons from when you were a girl?” He seemed rather astounded at the possibility.

  “Of course.” She tied her horse beside Alec’s and followed him as he trailed the footprints, his pistol still in his hand, though resting by his thigh. She still thought back with fondness on the memories of when she’d been just shy of twelve, and Alec had taught her and Sophie how to track footprints in the woods.

  They walked through the scrub till they got to a clearing, and Connie could hear the thunder of hooves retreating in the distance. “Yes, there were definitely two men.” The impressions on the dirt trail were more than that
of one man and a horse.

  “There were,” Alec agreed. “But they’re gone now. Come, we best get to our horses and leave the area before they decide to come back.”

  A stray piece of paper stuck in a bush and flapping in the breeze caught her attention. Walking over, she picked it up. Her breath hitched in her throat.

  “What is it?” Alec asked, striding over to where she stood.

  “It’s me.” She passed him the paper, which was actually a photograph with her own image on the underside.

  “What do you mean, it’s you?” Alec asked, peering down at the picture.

  “Duncan had it taken after we became engaged and kept it in a picture frame on his study desk.” Connie could still remember her excitement when the photo was taken. All she could think of was that she would be a duchess, and that her future husband must love her and be so proud of having her as his fiancée, that he’d commissioned the picture. “At first I thought it was to show his love, but I soon realized it was to remind himself that I was his possession.”

  She noticed that her hand was shaking slightly as she passed the image to Alec; he glanced at it before slipping it into his jacket pocket.

  “We need to leave now.” He took her hand in his and led her back through the forest to where their horses were waiting.

  Connie flinched at first, still becoming accustomed to anyone touching her, but then a heat radiated up her arm from the contact, unlocking a yearning within her that she didn’t seem able to push aside. He was so warm, and strong, and gentle. So different than Duncan that, not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her. To feel his hands caress her skin and skim along her thighs.

  But the thought also scared her. She’d never experienced any joy or pleasure from Duncan’s touch—quite the opposite, in fact. Perhaps she was incapable of actually enjoying such things? Good Lord, what was she doing even thinking about something like this, and now, of all times, when they were on the run and potentially in danger.

  Perhaps she was slightly insane?

  They reached their horses, and Alec released her hand before holstering his pistol.

  For a moment, she missed his touch, feeling suddenly alone without it. But then she chastised herself. Hadn’t she learned that she had to depend on herself, and not a man? She couldn’t start to rely on Alec, even if he did feel like her anchor in a turbulent sea. No. She had to summon her inner confidence and independence.

  It was the only way forward for her.

  Neither of them said a word as they mounted their horses, and fleetingly Connie wondered if Alec had been as affected by touching her as she had been touching him. She doubted it. Instead he was probably listening for any threats, or for the riders’ possible return.

  Thankfully, though, the air was silent.

  They both nudged the animals back onto the dirt path that wound its way toward Inverness. Alec stayed slightly behind her, still clearly paying vigilant attention to their surroundings.

  Which she was thankful of, considering those men could still be around.

  Another chill ran up her spine with the thought that someone had obviously given them the photograph of herself. What scared her the most, though, was the who and the why. Because she’d thought that no one else apart from Alec and Connie knew where they were heading.

  But clearly someone did.

  Chapter Twelve

  A few hours later, Connie awkwardly dismounted from her horse, cringing as her feet landed with a thud on the ground. Perhaps she should have accepted Alec’s offer to assist, as her legs and back were in agony after being in the saddle for so long, having not ridden for what seemed an age, particularly as Duncan had rarely allowed her outside of the castle.

  When they’d come across the roadside inn, the idea of a short rest and some refreshment had proved too much of an enticement, even with the threat looming large. So they’d decided to stop briefly and then continue on their journey to Inverness, which was still a solid few hours’ ride away.

  And considering her stomach had been grumbling for the last hour, the thought of some freshly baked bread and a hot cup of tea had her salivating. She hadn’t really eaten over the past two days, and she imagined that she’d need her wits about her in Inverness.

  Glancing around the outside of the establishment, she was pleasantly surprised. A quaint two-story inn sat perched on the side of the road, and it looked refreshingly clean and well-kept, with the red brickwork of the building free from dust and the paint on the window sills and door a bright chirpy blue.

  “We’re going to need to get you something to disguise yourself with.” Alec’s deep voice rumbled beside her as he took her reins and led both horses over to the stables to the right of the inn. “Or at least something to cover your hair.”

  Following him, she tucked back some stray wisps that had escaped from her rather hastily pulled back bun. “Disguise myself?” She hadn’t really thought about being recognized. The types of people she was used to socializing with wouldn’t be out and about at this early hour, let alone frequenting such an establishment. Though she supposed her pale blond hair was rather unusual and often invited comment. And if Fergus was searching for them, someone would probably remember her hair color.

  Alec handed over the horses to the stable boy and passed the lad a coin.

  She nearly ran into him as he turned back toward her, but his reflexes were sharp, and before she could slam into his chest, his hands reached out and gently gripped her shoulders, steadying her forward momentum.

  The touch of his fingers against her dress was firm but oh so gentle. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She couldn’t say she was scared of the physical contact, though a part of her was certainly wary of any touching, after how Duncan had mistreated her, but the very feel of Alec’s hands pressed against her, even with a few layers of fabric between his skin and her own, sent a searing awareness through the dress, burning all the way down to her suddenly heated flesh.

  The sensation was foreign but thrilling.

  Connie couldn’t ever remember a time when Duncan’s touch had elicited such a response.

  And when she glanced up into the deep-brown depths of Alec’s gaze, her mouth went dry, and she suddenly felt blissfully lost. His eyes were like a rich molten whiskey; she could easily drown in their depths.

  “Steady there,” he said, the soft Scottish brogue of his accent cascading over her like silken amber. Hot and yet so smooth. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, duchess.”

  He winked at her, and her heart flipped.

  It was that same wink that he’d bestowed on her when she was eleven, which had sent the very first flutterings through her heart all those years ago. How could something as simple as a wink make her knees weak? It was downright embarrassing, though in her defense, she was certain she was not the only one affected.

  How could the man be so deliciously sinful yet saintly, all at the same time?

  And moreover, how did women resist such a combination? Connie rather doubted they could.

  The thought of other women and Alec was a sobering one. Particularly as Connie had no business thinking of him in such a context. She was practically drooling over him, and her husband wasn’t even six feet under yet.

  Alec gently squeezed her shoulders before setting her steadily on her feet. His touch was casual but so caring and completely second nature to him, even if it did send an illicit thrill down to her toes.

  “Are you all right?” There was concern in Alec’s voice. “You look a bit flushed.”

  She blinked, knowing she needed to gain control over her wayward thoughts immediately. But then, a hideous sense of guilt wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She shouldn’t be thinking about how Alec’s very presence made her more aware of herself as a woman than she’d ever been.


  Duncan had abused her on more occasions than she could even remember, but he’d still been her husband. It was wrong and completely inappropriate to be fantasizing about Alec, even if he did make her feel sensations that no other man ever had. “Yes, I am fine,” she replied. “Just hungry, I think.”

  “Aye, I heard your belly rumbling.” His full lips twisted up at the corners, and there was a decided twinkle in his eyes. “Best we get you some breakfast before it gets even louder.”

  “You heard it rumble?” Connie felt the flush rise on her cheeks. How embarrassing. “I haven’t eaten much of anything lately, even before Duncan’s death.”

  His expression sobered. “No, I don’t imagine you have. Come on, then.”

  Alec guided her back through the courtyard and over to the front door of the inn, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Luckily, there wasn’t really anyone about, except for a few of the stable hands and employees scurrying around to the back of the inn. They gave her and Alec a cursory glance but nothing more.

  Though she was confident they wouldn’t know who she was, Connie tucked her jacket around herself more firmly, suddenly wishing it had a hood, so at least her face could be hidden. Having eyes on her, even for a moment, was making her feel somewhat exposed, especially as she wasn’t all that used to being out and about.

  Alec’s earlier suggestion that she needed a disguise was sounding more and more like a good idea.

  They approached the entrance, and Alec stepped to the side to open the door for her. Thanking him, she went ahead, and was once again pleasantly surprised by the interior of the inn. It was fresh and clean, with the reception area to her left and the tavern-cum-breakfast-room tucked away to the right.

  The sounds of cutlery clinking on ceramics chimed merrily in the background, and the smell of fresh baked goods wafted into the entrance area. The aroma was delicious, and Connie took in a deep breath through her nostrils, savoring it. In reply, her stomach gurgled loudly.