Page 1 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
CHAPTER ONE
ALANA
“We’ve abandoned them.” Alana flung her hands in the air, nearly hitting the top of the coach, her stomach twisting into knots.
She’d told Mr. Thomas Reid that very afternoon that she was sailing for America. He’d seemed unsurprised by her announcement, and a small part of her suspected he approved of her brother’s insistence on sending her as far away from Wiltshire, and the murders, as possible.
“They’re our cousins, Aidan.” Alana glowered at her brother. “They could die.”
“They will survive without our assistance for a few hours while I convey you to the docks and meet with Patrick.” Aidan’s tight voice belied his sentiment, his eyes glowing fiercely in the dim cabin. “Both Samantha and Edward know how to use a pistol, and Benjamin and Thomas are with them.”
“What about Da?” Alana’s gaze flicked to her left.
The white-haired man scrunched in the corner snored lightly, his head drooping on his chest. He shifted, mumbling in his sleep, his thick brogue coating the small coach, then fell silent.
“Are you suggesting I should have left him alone on the estate with the knowledge there is a killer threatening our family?” Aidan arched his eyebrows, his hand curling around the rifle stretched across his lap, the same one he’d extracted from their father before shoving him into the coach.“He would have shot any person who wandered onto our property, friend or enemy.”
She pursed her lips, a growl of frustration emanating from her throat. Leaning forward, she hissed, “I meant about sending me to America.”
“You agreed.” Aidan shrugged, unperturbed by her attempt at intimidation.
“You tricked me!”
A smirk crossed his face—acknowledgment of her accusation.
“I’m quite capable of caring for Da while assisting our cousins in capturing that vile man who murdered our uncle. You—”
“If you say, ‘I’m a woman,’ I will strike you.”
Another smirk.
“Actually, I was going to say you’re a woman.”
She flew off the bench, a ball of anger and irritation, and swiped at his face.
Aidan captured her arms and forced her down next to him. Collecting both her wrists in one hand, he placed a finger over her mouth, his eyes flicking to their father. She snapped her teeth, nearly biting his fingertip.
“How do you think your death would affect Da?” He grimaced, releasing her.
The hand raised to smack his face, paused, her brother’s melancholy question floating around her. She stared into his blue eyes, a mirror of her own, then slowly lowered her arm.
“That’s unfair.”
“With you safe in America, we can focus on the task of capturing Uncle Hastings’ assailant.” Aidan reached over, placing his hand on top of hers, and squeezed. “Once he’s arrested, you can return. Perhaps you’ll meet someone on your trip.”
“Matchmaking?” Alana narrowed her eyes. “You hardly seem the type to meddle.”
“Something to occupy my time.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Pray tell, who did you have in mind for me?”
Stroking his dark beard, Aidan dragged out the silence.
“To be honest, there’s not one man in Wiltshire I’d subject to your fiery temperament.”
She punched him in the shoulder and moved to the opposite bench, folding her arms across her chest.
“When are you going to tell Da about sending me to America… after the year has passed?”
