Page 73 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

The proud mama’s eyes widened. “Of—of course, but these men cannot compare to your husband.”

Caroline lifted a brow. “No?”

“Oh, no, no, they are very young and have yet to prove their mettle. You understand.

We cannot give our Sophie to a man who has yet to make his way in the world.” Unfortunately, Taran would agree with the abominable woman.

The woman’s eyes shifted past her. Caroline turned to come face to face with her uncle. She couldn’t halt the gasp of breath ripped from her chest. Tremors rolled through her belly.

Comprehension flickered in his eyes. “Caroline,” he said in a cultured voice that would have fooled anyone into believing he was anything but the murderer he was.

A scream rose to her throat—along with the demand to know what he was doing there. But she knew the answer. His henchman hadn’t appeared at the appointed meeting place, so he had come to investigate. And her reaction had told him more than he could have hoped for.

He gave a slight bow of his head to the woman. “If you will excuse us, madam, I must speak with my niece.”

The woman’s cheeks reddened in obvious fluster at the sultry note in his voice. “Niece? Oh, of course, sir.”

The orchestra began playing a minuet, and couples headed for the dance floor. Etherton’s fingers closed around Caroline’s elbow and he turned her towards the door.

“I am busy.” She yanked her arm in an effort to free herself, but his grip tightened on her flesh as he pushed them through the crowd.

He said under his breath, “Make a scene, Niece, and I will slit your husband from sternum to cock.”

Caroline lifted her gaze to his. “Blackhall is not the easy mark my father was.”

Etherton steered her around three women oblivious to their presence. “So you have met Phillips. What did the fool do?”

She yanked hard and he released her. Caroline halted and locked gazes with him. “Tried to kidnap me.”

Her uncle’s mouth tightened. “What did you do to deserve that?” She didn’t answer and he added, “You are a fool, Caroline.”

“Just like my father?”

“You are your father’s daughter.”

Before she realized his intent, he snaked his arm around her and the barrel of a pistol dug into her side. She glanced down and he opened his coat wide enough to reveal the double flintlock Blunderbuss pressed against her waist. She recognized the pistol as the one that hung over his mantle. He’d kept the weapon as a souvenir from his days as privateer. He had spoken of how the gun was particularly useful in warding off pirates trying to board a ship. Her heart rate accelerated. What had he loaded it with, shot, nails, glass? The pistol fired anything with the potential to harm the target—and was especially effective in at close range. Even if she survived being shot, the doctor could never retrieve from her body all the pieces of whatever he had loaded into the barrel. She would die of infection, if she didn’t bleed to death first.

Caroline looked up at him. “There are two hundred witnesses present.”

“The report of the pistol will cause chaos,” he answered without hesitation. “You will be dead, and I will be forced to shoot at least two others in order to ensure my escape.” She started to say the pistol fired only one shot, but he cut in, “I never carry only one weapon.

Where is your husband?”

Panic shoved forward. If he discovered Taran was in the dungeon, he could dispose of her first, then surprise him and Lord Edmonds, and kill them.

“He has taken your man to the sheriff.”

Her uncle cast her a condescending look. “Blackhall owns the sheriff. He will dispense justice, then inform the sheriff of the verdict and sentence after the fact.” Etherton glanced around the crowded room. “I imagine there is a tolerable dungeon in this castle. Likely accessed from the kitchen or perhaps beneath one of the towers.”

She startled. How many dungeons had the infamous Peiter Everston visited? How many had he been imprisoned in? She had never been in a dungeon, hadn’t thought to ask Taran where the dungeon was. How long had he been gone now, one hour and fifteen minutes? Perhaps he was no longer in the dungeon. It would be like him to leave her in the dark while he discussed matters with Lord Edmonds. For once, she would be glad his male mind didn’t take into account her female sensibilities.

Etherton started them towards the exit. “Even a peep, Caroline, and I will shoot you, then find your husband and kill him.” “You will do that anyway,” she replied.

“I may let you live,” he replied.

He skirted the dancers and, a moment later, they reached the door. He led her down the hallway, deeper into the castle’s interior. Here was her chance. Caroline whirled. The back of his hand came across her mouth with such intensity stars streaked across her vision. He seized her shoulders. Footsteps sounded in the corridor up ahead. He turned in the direction of the sound. Hope rushed to the surface.

“I will shoot whoever that is,” he hissed, and shoved the pistol into his waistband.