Page 37 of The Highlander’s Unexpected Wife

Chapter Nine

Erin swiped at the tear that escaped her resolve and slid down her cheek. She pushed to her feet and turned from the bay window. Had Lord Weston truly thrown Alison over his shoulder and kidnapped her from her own house? How had Alison succeeded where she had failed? Fear tightened her insides. Once her father heard the news, he would be furious. She simply didn’t understand why he was so set on her marrying Lord Weston. There were other noblemen, some wealthier and more well-connected than the viscount. It would be wiser to make herself available to those men. Why Viscount Weston?

She recalled the man who has visited her father the other night. Tall, chestnut hair, with one rakish curl that looked as if it had carelessly fallen across his forehead. Genteel—nobility, no doubt—and quite rich, if the cut of his coat were any indication. Not to mention, dangerous. Not a man she would choose for herself, but the sort of man she might expect her father to choose for her. His fixation on Lord Weston bordered on obsessive.

What did her desires matter? She was completely at her father’s mercy. He would force her to marry whomever he chose. Lord Weston wouldn’t have been a bad choice. He was rigid, but not unkind. Might she still try to ensnare him, even after he kidnapped his bride-to-be from her own home? Erin fisted her hands at her sides. Of all the people in the world, she would never have believed Alison would betray her. All that talk about her beloved Robert, yet she swooped in on Lord Weston the instant the opportunity presented itself.

Erin choked back a sob. Lord Weston might not have wanted her, but she would have been a good wife. She would have made him love her. Even if he’d banished her to the country, that life would have been superior to living under her father’s roof. But Alison ruined it all. When her father discovered the truth…

Erin began to pace. There had to be a way to salvage the plan. Alison had stolen the note, then locked Erin in her closet. It was simply too much to bear. Her best friend had gone behind her back and stolen the man she intended to marry.

Erin halted. Turnabout was fair play.

Fifteen minutes later, Erin clasped her cloak as she quietly hurried down the stairs. By tomorrow morning, all of Inverness would be talking about her. Most importantly, her father would finally be pleased with her.

Half a flight down the stairs, a knock on the front door brought her to a stop. Who would be visiting at half past midnight? She dropped to a crouch and watched as her father strode into view. He continued out of sight. An instant later, the door creaked open and a male voice said, “Lennox.”

She knew that voice. The man she had encountered leaving her father’s study the other night. The door clicked shut.

“Taylor,” her father said, “you’re late.”

“I had to be certain our merchandise shipped as planned,” the man said. “It seems Weston has done exactly as instructed. Perhaps we need not worry about his wedding plans, after all.”

Wedding plans?

They walked into view.

“I do not trust him,” her father said. “He is honest by nature.”

The man laughed as they passed from view. “You cannot say that about him after tonight.”

Erin stared at the hallway where they had disappeared. Why would that man care about Lord Weston’s wedding? Wait, not the wedding—his marriage. But that made no sense, either. She recalled the man’s last visit. Hadn’t he said something about keeping Lord Weston in line? And something about them hanging if they were caught. Hanged?

How could she have forgotten that?

She hurried down the stairs to the foyer, then hesitated. Curiosity to learn more about the man’s business with her father burned hot. Dare she chance trying to eavesdrop? The other night when the gentleman had caught her outside her father’s study was a perfect example of how bad she was at eavesdropping. If her father caught her, she would never be able to leave, and her chance of getting Lord Weston to fall in love with her might pass.

She turned toward the door, pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and slipped through the front door into the chill night air. She ignored the gooseflesh that arose on her arms. She would show all of them—her father, Alison, even Lord Weston. Like Alison, she was capable of taking action. Erin imagined the anger on Lord Weston’s face when he discovered her in his bed, but experienced no fear. No man’s fury could compare to her father’s. Alison would be livid to find that Erin had stolen him right out from under his nose.

Eri reached the walkway and turned a sharp left. When she reached the main street, she would hail a cab. Pray God that she would find an unlocked door or window at the viscount’s home. A horrible thought occurred. Dear Lord, what if his father, the earl, were home? Only that afternoon, Alison had lunched with him. Erin slowed her walk. She had no wish to anger her future father-in-law. Her heart fell. Only two blocks from home and already her plan had begun to unravel. How could she possibly start life with her new husband if his father hated her?

There had to be a way to make the viscount fall in love with her. If Alison hadn’t sabotaged her, kept the assignation with Lord Weston in her place, it would be her living in Lord Weston’s home—probably warming his bed. Erin halted. What if Alison was already warming the viscount’s bed? Alison had resources, security…was it necessary for her to take him and his title, as well? Movement to her right caught her attention and she became aware of the rattle of carriage wheels. She halted as a carriage came to a stop beside her. The carriage was no street hackney, but that of a well to do gentleman. Erin took a step back when the carriage door opened and a tall, well-dressed gentleman stepped to the ground.

“Forgive me, ma’am, but Lord Weston has instructed me to return you to his home.”

Erin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“He is quite worried. Never fear, I will see you safely to Welbourne.”

“To Welbourne?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“I feel certain his lordship would have agreed to let you see your cousin, had you asked. There was no need to sneak out. You gave him quite a scare.”

Sneak out? Of Welbourne? Good Lord, he thought she was Alison. Her heart felt as if it dropped into her belly. Alison had sneaked out of Welbourne?

She pinned the man with a stare. “If I frightened him, then where is he?”

“Looking for you elsewhere, my lady.”