Page 28 of Never Kiss a Scot
“I did leave, but not for London.” He poured himself a glass of wine and took a long sip. “Now, what the devil are you doing here, and why were you with that damned Scot in a cave?”
“Well, we…” She debated whether to tell him the truth and decided she must. Rafe was not Ash. There was a chance he would understand her plight. “We are running away to Gretna Green.” She took a drink and waited for him to react.
Rafe was quiet a long moment. “Mother and Ashton don’t know?”
She shook her head. “No, but they will soon enough. If we can arrive in Scotland by tomorrow evening, we may be able to marry before they can stop us.”
Her brother leaned back against the wall by the table where a few bottles of wine and some food were stored. She wondered if he came here often. Perhaps he lived here while he…
“Rafe… What are you doing here? Who are those men outside, and what is this place?” She waved a hand at the small bedchamber.
“I’m a highwayman, or hadn’t you guessed?” he replied, his tone a little sarcastic.
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I gathered as much, but why?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s amusing, and it keeps my pockets lined. Ash keeps a tight hold on the purse strings, as you well know.”
“Only for you. I have a trust and a banker who sends me money whenever I require it.” She had been trusted long ago with her own dowry funds as well as an annual income. Ash knew she was responsible. Of course, when she married, he would be furious that those funds would be used by her husband, but Brock would have to receive her consent to withdraw anything from the trust.
“Yes, well, dear Ash doesn’t let me have any control, so I’m making my own way in the world.”
“Mother and I thought you were trying your hand at speculating in the stock markets.”
“Well, I am a speculator, somewhat. I merely speculate on which carriages have the most money. Now, why the devil are you and Kincade getting married? You scarcely know each other, and he’s…well, he’s a bloody Scot. Don’t tell me you want to live in some dreary castle in the north?”
“And if I do?” she challenged archly.
Rafe laughed again and looked so amused that Joanna couldn’t resist smiling as well.
“Then who am I to stop you?” Rafe took another drink of the wine. “If he’s what you want, then off you go.”
“You won’t try to stop us?” She was used to Rafe being more relaxed than Ashton as far as protectiveness went, but this still surprised her. Lord knew Ashton was protective enough for a dozen brothers, but she thought Rafe still might protest. During her first season, Rafe had been even more protective of her than Ashton, and he’d even shown her some rudimentary ways to defend herself. Of course, tonight she hadn’t been prepared, and she felt like a fool for not using the skills he’d taught her.
Rafe sighed and came over to sit beside her on the bed. “Joanna, if you want to run away with a man, I trust you know your own heart in the matter.”
“I do know my own heart,” she agreed. “It’s been hard, Rafe. You haven’t been home much in the last year. I’ve had no dances, no courting, no interest. I’ve been put firmly on the shelf. Ash has been reduced to trying to bribe men into marrying me, and even most desperate have refused. But not Brock—he wants me.”
“Does he want your money, Joanna, or you? Have you talked with him?”
“I’m sure that has influenced him to some degree, but when he kisses me, it’s as if—”
Rafe held up a hand. “Now wait a minute, I do not want to hear about you kissing anyone. Even I have my limits.” He said this with a teasing smile.
She blushed. “I only meant that I feel wonderful, Rafe. I feel cared for and desired. It may not be a love match, but it’s better than marrying someone Ash had to throw a fortune at to even consider me.”
Rafe gazed into the distance. “Well…if it’s what you want, I will do what I can to help. You may both stay here tonight, warm up by the fire, and share our food.”
“Thank you.” She kissed her older brother’s cheek. “I must see to Brock now. Your man hit him hard, and I want to be sure he’s all right.” Joanna left the bedchamber and found Brock still unconscious on the floor. The other two highwaymen jumped to their feet, masks still on. They moved to block her escape.
Rafe chuckled from the doorway of the bedroom. “Easy, men. This is my little sister, Joanna. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t sure why she was with this man and wanted to catch him unawares. Don’t worry, she’ll keep our secret.” He leaned against the doorjamb with a devil-may-care grin. Joanna nearly rolled her eyes.
“Sister?” The one who’d called her a pretty bird looked down at Brock. “What about the Scot then? Who’s he?”
“Her fiancé. It seems we’ve interrupted a race to Gretna Green. My older brother, Ashton, will soon be on their heels, or might be already. I’ve offered them shelter and food here tonight.”
The other two men removed their masks, and Joanna gasped. She recognized the two men. Lord Falworth, a young viscount whose family was in need of money, and the other was a gentleman named William Amberly. She’d heard rumors about his home, Amberly Hall, being haunted, which was why he stayed in a bachelor residence in London much of the year. Many young ladies spoke in whispers about his beautiful home being left unattended and shared the ghost stories that accompanied the attractive man whenever he set foot in a ballroom. Both men were close to Rafe in age and had gone to school with him at Eton and Cambridge.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lennox,” they said, bowing in a courtly manner. Nearly all traces of their highwayman personas vanished now that their identities had been revealed.
