Nathaniel didn’t dare nod for fear it would send him back to his knees, so he merely looked at his uncle.
John pursed his lips. “Then definitely drain those accounts and give it all away so he doesn’t get his hands on it. Everyone else has more than they need. You have enough for your legal bills?”
“Aye.”
John smiled, embraced him briefly, then pulled back quickly and wrinkled his nose. “Forgot where you’ve been, laddie. Don’t particularly care to wear any of that.” He turned to Ceana and smiled. “Come along, lass, and come home. We’ll take care of you.”
Tears were streaming down her face. “Thank you.” She looked at Nathaniel. “And where will you go?”
“We’re going home,” Nathaniel said, not arguing as Emma drew his arm over her shoulders. “Time to marry this lass here before she gets away.”
“She’s very pretty,” Ceana said with a faint smile. “Good fortune to you both.”
Nathaniel smiled. “John will take care of you,” he said. He looked at his uncle. “Do what you have to, aye?”
“You know I will, Nathaniel.” John looked at Emma. “Lovely to meet you, lass. Grind this one under your heel as often as possible after you wed him. I’ll see that he’s born,which is likely the least I can do for him. Now, off with you both before Nat falls on his arse. Be safe, children.”
Nathaniel nodded to his uncle, refrained from putting his arms around his mother and bawling like a bairn, then decided that perhaps it was best they get on with getting home.
Assuming they could.
He turned away before he couldn’t make himself turn away, then stumbled along with Emma toward where he knew the gate lay.
“Is Gerald still following us?” he asked very quietly.
“I can’t hear him any longer,” she said. “He’s not very careful, but I would have to leave you and go have a look to know for sure.”
“Nay,” he managed, “let’s just keep going. If we can get home, we might find some help there. And to keep my mind off the fact that I wish I were dead, tell me where you learned to do all that.”
“Do what?”
He was truly unhappy with how hard he was leaning on her, but he couldn’t do anything else. “Steal keys and liberate half-dead Highlanders from medieval dungeons.”
She shouldered more of his weight. “Well, it was more theory than practice, if you want the whole truth. Patrick sharpened up my fighting skills while Ian was teaching me Gaelic. Jamie watched with a lairdly frown. They weren’t happy about my going, but I didn’t give them any choice.”
She fell silent and he didn’t have the strength to press her for a reason why. It took him almost all the way to the gate to be able to have the energy to speak again.
“And the lock picking?”
“Bertie, of course,” she said with a faint smile. “I had to have something to do to fill my rebellious teenage days, and he had to have something to do besides polish cars. My father had four drivers, in case you were curious.”
“I was,” he wheezed.
“My parents had to keep up appearances, you know,” she continued. “They live in an enclave within yachting distance of Seattle and routinely use words likeexclusiveandeliteto describe the guest lists created for intimate, extremely important dinner parties.”
“You bluestocking, you,” he managed.
She laughed a little. “You wish I were,” she said. “Unfortunately you know the reality is I’m the dorky middle child who learned to pick locks so I could get out of anything my brothers could lock me into, namely the attic.”
“Cinderella practices unsavory skills, is that it?”
She nodded. “Exactly.”
He found that he couldn’t speak anymore. It was slightly unnerving to him that he had to concentrate so fully on just continuing to walk quickly, but he supposed perhaps he couldn’t have reasonably expected anything else. He managed to take one last decent breath for speaking.
“Thank you, Emma.”
She smiled up at him, then squeezed his arm that was slung over her shoulder. “Almost safe home.”
