“What in heaven’s name is going on?”
Angela stood in the doorway, her face a mask of concern and confusion. Her wide eyes darted between Charlie and her employer, taking in the ring gleaming in MacAllister’s palm.
MacAllister turned to his housekeeper, his expression shifting into something almost pleasant. Almost. “Ah, Angela. Just in time. It seems yer ‘guest’ has a habit of wandering where she shouldnae. I found her snooping about the house, and lo-and-behold—” He held up the ring. “I found her with this.”
Angela’s eyes widened further as she looked at Charlie. “Charlotte?”
Charlie shook her head fiercely. “I didn’t take it! He planted it on me!”
MacAllister sighed theatrically. “Of course I did. Because I have nothing better to do than go about hiding trinkets in ladies’ pockets.” He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Tell me, lass, why exactly did ye sneak around my house if not to steal?”
Charlie’s fists clenched at her sides. She couldn’t tell them the truth. She couldn’t admit what she had really taken, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him pin this on her, either. She had to get out of here. Now.
With a burst of defiance, she shoved past MacAllister, aiming for the door, but she barely made it two steps before MacAllister’s hand clamped around her wrist in a bruising grip, yanking her back.
“Ye are not going anywhere.”
Charlie twisted, trying to wrench herself free, but he was stronger, his fingers like iron.
“Get your damned hands off me!” She aimed a kick at his shins, but he stepped out of the way without releasing her, his lips twisted in dark amusement.
“Angela,” MacAllister said smoothly, not taking his eyes off Charlie. “Be a dear and send Terrance for the sheriff, would ye? We’ve a thief to deal with.”
Angela gasped. “The sheriff?” She looked at Charlie, her expression flickering with uncertainty. “My lord, surely that isnae necessary—”
“Oh, but it is,” MacAllister said, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He stared at Charlie and his voice turned almost gentle, as though he were explaining something to a child. “Do ye know what the penalty is for stealing? Hanging.”
Charlie’s stomach dropped.
Hanging.
For a ring she hadn’t even stolen.
She stared up at MacAllister, her breath coming fast. He was enjoying this—playing with her like a cat with a cornered mouse. Panic clawed up Charlie’s throat. She had to think. She had to get out of this. But how?
The door burst open with a deafening crack.
Niall stormed inside, his face thunderous, his eyes locking onto the scene before him in an instant.
Charlie’s heart soared at the sight of him. “Niall!” she cried, struggling in MacAllister’s grip.
“Let. Her. Go.” He glared at MacAllister, and his voice was low and dangerous, the kind of voice that sent men running if they had any sense.
MacAllister didn’t move. He merely lifted a brow, his lips curling. “Ah, Campbell. Ye do have a knack for arriving at the most interesting moments.”
Niall took a slow step forward, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “Ye heard me, MacAllister. Let her go, or I’ll make ye.”
MacAllister’s grip tightened ever so slightly, making Charlie wince. “I caught yer wee lass rummaging through my house. And when I confronted her, well—” He held up the ring with his free hand. “What do ye make of this?”
Niall barely glanced at it. “I make of it that ye are a lying bastard.”
MacAllister’s eyes darkened. “Ye’ve no cause to speak to me that way, Campbell. The lass was caught red-handed. She’s to be turned over to the sheriff—”
He never finished the sentence.
Niall’s fist crashed into MacAllister’s jaw with a sickening crack. The force of it sent him stumbling backward, releasing Charlie as he reeled. She gasped, staggering back, but Niall was already moving.
He launched himself at MacAllister, driving him into the wall. They hit it hard, the sound of splitting wood echoing through the room. Niall’s fists were a blur, his fury unleashed as he drove blow after blow into the man who had dared to put his hands on her.
