Page 29 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
Ah, hell, he’d upset her. Fool that he was.
“I came to London last year, during my sister’s illness. She’d weakened, and her husband was not well suited to looking after anyone, much less a spirited young girl who was losing her mother.”
“You were aware he planned to take the child to Scotland?”
She nodded. Her eyes filled with regret. “Of course. I thought nothing of it at the time.” She gave her head a little shake. “No, that’s not entirely true. I found it unusual for Mr. Abbott to restrain his activities with a child’s presence. But he loved the girl. Anyone could see that.”
“He gave no indication that he knew he was in danger?”
Again, she shook her head. “None whatsoever. If anything, he seemed excited about the prospect of escaping the clamor of the city. He’d planned to bring Laurel to visit relatives in the Highlands, family I’d never known of before he announced his holiday.”
The bounder was a relentless liar. That much was sure. What the hell had he been thinking, involving a wee lass in his plans? For a heartbeat, Connor debated his next words. “You believe the man had no kin in Scotland?”
“I now suspect that to be the case, but my position in their lives was built on shifting sand. I am Laurel’s aunt, with no true authority over the girl. It was not my place to question her father’s decision. My sister would have seen me appointed the child’s guardian, but…well, that simply couldn’t be done. For all his flaws, Mr. Abbott loved his daughter and doted on her when he was inclined to spend a day with her.”
A copper-tinged curl dangled against Johanna’s cheek. Unable to stop himself, Connor gently swept it behind her ear. He’d half expected her to balk at the small, intimate gesture, but instead, she offered a soft smile the Mona Lisa might have envied. The first sparks of wary trust gleamed in her eyes. The fist in his gut twisted. He didn’t want to shatter the fragile truce forming between them with what might seem an interrogation. But there were questions to be asked. Too much was at stake to waste time sheltering her emotions. He needed to determine what she knew about the book. Did she have any idea what she really had?
“And the book? How did you come to possess it?”
Her mouth firmed as her eyes narrowed, taking him in with a cautious gaze. “You already know the answer to that.” Her flat tone revealed little. “It was a gift from Mr. Abbott.”
“When did he give it to you?”
Her shoulders squared, as if she braced herself for battle. “The night before he departed, if you really must know. He’d offered it with his gratitude for my assistance with the household.”
“That didn’t surprise you?”
A scoffing little laugh escaped her. “Of course it surprised me. He was not known for his thoughtfulness. Or his generosity, for that matter. Mr. Abbott wasn’t a man to readily part with his acquisitions. Quite honestly, I’d have been less shocked if he’d pressed a sovereign in my palm and sent me on my way.”
So, she was letting her protective armor display a few cracks. Good. The tasks he faced would be easier if she trusted him with the truth. “Why do you think he chose that work?”
Her shoulders lifted and fell. “I suppose he knew I admired Mrs. Shelley. I’ve often counted her as an inspiration.”
“Do you know the value of that manuscript?”
“Not in pound notes and pence. But it is irreplaceable and precious to me.”
“To a man like Cranston, that book represents little more than a stack of pages with a worn leather binding. Ye’re certain this is the ransom he demanded?”
She dropped her gaze to the Aubusson carpet and offered a soft nod. “His instructions were explicit. He requires the book in exchange for my niece.”
“Something is wrong. This does not fit Geoffrey Cranston’s profile.” Turning, he went to the window and stared into the darkness for any sign they’d been pursued. He heard Johanna’s abruptly indrawn breath and pictured her mouth in his mind. How he’d enjoy easing the terse set of those plump lips with another kiss.
God above, he’d gone daft to even think of it. This was not some amorous lass ripe for a randy seduction. No, this was a woman so driven by fierce devotion to a child that she’d cast her fear and better judgment to the wind. It was bad enough he’d already tasted Johanna’s mouth. But now—now that he knew what had spurred her dealings with Cranston—he had to rein in his desire. She was a temptation he couldn’t afford.
“You doubt my word? What reason might I have to lie?” Her words were clipped and tightly controlled, an undercurrent of ire simmering just below the smooth surface.
“You’d have reason enough to conceal the truth. I’m naught but a stranger to ye. But it’s not you I believe who’s behind this deception.” He leaned against the window, meeting her questioning eyes. “I’d sooner believe the queen swam the bluidy Channel than trust that those lying thieves are interested in a book.”
The shimmer in her eyes intensified. Damnation. He hadn’t meant to distress her. But Johanna had to know the kind of men she was dealing with. “If you don’t believe they want the book, what do you think they’re really after?”
“A fortune.” Now it was his turn to veil the truth with a vague response, not quite a lie. If his sources were correct, the man Johanna knew as Richard Abbott had stumbled upon an artifact of great historical significance, a treasure rumored to harness powers beyond the realm of possibility; indeed, the stuff of legend. Abbott most likely would never have guessed at the properties the gem was rumored to bestow upon the person who controlled it. Far-fetched tales, as unbelievable as the stories Connor’s grandmother had told of spirits that could bring good fortune and abundant garden harvests.
But Geoffrey Cranston was a true believer. If Connor’s sources were right, the Englishman would stop at nothing to claim the artifact.
Somehow, Johanna Templeton held a key to locating the stone—a key she didn’t even realize she possessed. And it needed to stay that way.
Her feathered brows arched. “How do you propose my brother-in-law might have hidden a fortune within the pages of that book? Perhaps he wove diamonds and rubies into the binding. I shall have to investigate.”
