His aunt’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Murder, is it?”
“He murdered my father and my mother.”
“You have proof?”
“Of course not.”
“A child’s memories, no doubt, with no certainty behind it.”
She didn’t answer. Her gaze was on his, and he was lost in the beauty of her standing there. His aunt had dressed her in a rich green, too bold for a debutante, but perfect for her. Such presence she had. Like a queen commanding her knights.Kill him for me.And he fought the urge to do just that.
He ran to logic rather than give in to what she wanted. “I’ve no need to go to war with a Scottish clan,” he said.
She swallowed and nodded, though he knew she was thinking of a way to persuade him otherwise. A moment later, she surprised him. Again.
“Do you know of anyone? Do you have men who would be willing? For five hundred gold coins?”
“You’d have to marry to get it.”
She lifted her chin. “But it should be enough to induce someone, shouldn’t it?”
Several someones, but she’d have to be careful whom she selected. So few men could be trusted. Even fewer would have the skills required. Hell, he had no idea ifhecould do it. There were too many unknowns.
“You have no idea what you’re asking,” he said slowly.
She didn’t argue with him. She simply folded her arms and stared at him as a queen might look at a recalcitrant boy. And there between the two of them stood his aunt with a canny look on her face.
“You’ve got Jonathan,” Aunt Judy said. “He’s been looking for more work. And he’s built up a good group of men.”
“She’s talking murder. Jonathan and I have never done that. We protect. We escort. We—”
“Took on the highway men for us,” Iseabail said. “You recovered my necklace for me.” The pendant sat clear as day between the sweet mounds of her breasts. “Have you never killed before?”
Of course, he had. He was a man built for the London kind of warfare. He’d been trained in it since his youngest days and had learned to respect the cost of taking a life. In London, he was an undisputed king among his set.
Scotland was an entirely different environment. A very new kind of challenge.
Even as he told himself that he was not equipped to handle a war in Scotland, his mind started categorizing the things he could use. Iseabail was the most obvious asset. She knew the terrain, the people, and was smart enough to be accurate in her descriptions. Then he could add in all that very interesting Scottish superstition about witchcraft. He might see Iseabail as a queen, but he knew others saw her as a powerful witch. He could use that mysticism to great advantage. It was probably why her uncle was so keen to keep her around.
The possibilities intrigued him. He felt a familiar churn of excitement that had been absent from his life for so long. But to embrace that would be to give up on his ambitions here in London. The one where his children would be among the peerage. He might want to harry off to Scotland on a new adventure, but what would that do to his future children?
He would not give up on them. He’d invested too much time and money in his current scheme. And so his decision was clear.
“I’ll send a message to Jonathan. He’s your best option.” Then he added a bit more, though the words choked him. “He’ll make a decent husband as well.”
Chapter Fourteen
Iseabail didn’t wantthis “Jonathan” to marry her, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Still, she made one last attempt to persuade Mr. Bates.
“You still think you can find an aristocrat to marry you. You’re deluding yourself after today’s fight.”
“I’m sure I can,” Mr. Bates said with a smile. “Never underestimate theton’slove of money. I didn’t want to buy my way in, but I could. Even after today’s fight.”
Iseabail heard the certainty in Mr. Bates’s voice and felt despair settle deep into her bones. Even though he had suggested a different man to help her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that without him, she was doomed.
Didn’t he understand that she had spent the last decade looking for a man who would stand up to her uncle? She’d found no one in Scotland or England. She hadn’t even been sure about him until she’d seen him fight. She’d never seen someone move like him. Fluid and quick. He didn’t have a weapon, and yet he’d dispatched Hamish’s men like so many children.
And now he was denying her.
