Page 43 of The Highlander’s Unexpected Wife

Erin hesitated. She couldn’t imagine the depths of her father’s anger should he discover that she had repeated his business to anyone. Still, curiosity dug deep.

“A business associate of my father’s told him that Lord Weston had delivered the merchandise, so perhaps they need not worry about his wedding.”

“By God,” Mister McIntyre swore. He took a step toward her. “Miss Lennox, do you know this man?”

She shook her head. “Nae. Well, I saw him once before at my father’s home, but I do not know who he is.”

“When did you overhear this conversation?”

“Tonight, as I was sneaking—er, leaving.”

“Did they say more?” he asked.

Dare she tell him all? “The gentleman visited my father once before, the day after Alison became engaged to Lord Weston.” Erin ignored the flare of anger at the memory of Alison locking her in the closet. “He—the gentleman—told my father to ‘get Hunter in line.’”

“Anything more, Miss Lennox?” Mister McIntyre asked.

She hesitated.

“Miss Lennox, I realize this is difficult, but I urge you to remember that we are in service to His Majesty. To withhold information—”

“You do not need to remind me of my duty, sir. But he is my father.”

Mister McIntyre’s expression softened. “I know, and I am sorry, but I do not exaggerate when I say that lives are at stake.”

She repressed a strange desire to cry and said, “The gentleman said that if they were discovered they would be hanged.”

“I cannot believe it,” Mister McIntyre burst out. “This answers much.”

“Answer what?” Erin demanded.

“Your father does not know you left his home tonight?” he asked.

Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I wanted to see Alison.”

He smiled gently. “I am not reprimanding you, Miss Lennox.” He paused, his gaze seeming to bore straight to her soul. “You did not plan on returning, did you?”

A tremor rippled through her stomach. “I thought I might stay with Alison for a bit.” She wasn’t about to admit her true hopes and plans.

“Can you describe the gentleman you heard speaking with your father?” he asked.

“Tall, raven hair with a curl coiffured to look as though it had fallen carelessly across his forehead.”

His eyes lit with excitement. “An elaborate cravat?”

“What?” Erin replied stupidly.

“Did the gentleman wear an elaborate cravat?”

“Oh.” She thought back. When he’d caught her as he left her father’s study, she’d been so distracted she had only noticed his broad shoulders and handsome face—and that hair. She gave a slow nod. “His cravat was very elaborate.”

“Bloody hell, it has been right there in front of us all along. What fools we were not to see it.”

“See what?” Mrs. Cummings said.

He looked at her as if he’d forgotten her presence. “The very thing that will alleviate your concerns, Mrs. Cummings. Ma’am, if I leave Miss Lennox here, can you find her a place to stay until Lord Weston and I return?”

Mrs. Cummings straightened. “Of course.”

He nodded and smiled. Erin’s insides melted at sight of that smile. There was something kind behind the dangerous edge she now saw on his face.

“Very good, Mrs. Cummings. I must ask that if Miss Lennox’s father should demand the return of his daughter, that you stand strong and deny him.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked.

“Because her life may depend upon it.”