Sizzle All Day (20 page)

Gillian saw Jake's skin bleach white. His expression soured, reminding her of the look on Robbie's face right before she lost the contents of her stomach. Tugging hard on his arm, she said, "Best move away from the window, Jake. You do not wish to be seen."

And she didn't wish to have the draperies soiled.

Gillian's own stomach twisted nervously. The Earl of Harrington had arrived. The game was begun. "Hurry, Texas. I must go downstairs, and you need to disappear into the passages. Please!"

"What have I done to deserve this?" he replied, his feet all but glued to the floor. "Have I not been a loving, dutiful son?"

Trying to move this man was like pushing against an oak tree. He didn't budge.

"Have I not put my family's needs before my own for years?"

Gillian drew back her foot and kicked him hard in the shin. "Would you listen to me? This is not the time to indulge in rhetorical questions. Get ready to play a ghaist afore I make you one in truth!"

He scowled at her as he reached down to rub his leg. Pain must have cut through the fog. Good. "Why did you do that?"

"Just get in the passageway! I dinna have time for any more of this."

"Well, fine." Green eyes flashed. "Don't mind me. I'm only mired in a crisis here. You see that woman down there with your earl?"

"He's not my earl."

"Well, she's mine. My mother, to be precise."

Gillian glanced out the window. "You must be mistaken, Jake. That woman is much too young to be your mother."

"It's true she doesn't look her age," he said as he followed the path of her gaze. "It's all the scheming she does that keeps her young. You'll probably be just like her as you grow old. The two of you could be sisters-in-scheming. What is it about me that puts women like you in my life?"

She restrained herself from hitting him. "What is your mother doing at Rowanclere? Why is she with Harrington? This is too much a coincidence for my peace of mind."

"Oh, it's no coincidence. Not if it involves Elizabeth Delaney. You can count on that. The woman has only been in England since winter and she already has a spy network to put Scotland Yard to shame."

Gillian observed the scene out in the drive, noting how Mrs. Delaney laughed up at her escort. The resemblance to her son was plain to see. She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. "If she's knowledgeable about the activities of Society, she may well have learned of Harrington's interest in Rowanclere. Perhaps she chose to accompany him in order to check up on your progress toward locating the Declaration."

"It doesn't matter," he muttered. "She's here. My mother has come to Rowanclere. Just butter my backside and call me a biscuit. My ass is baked."

Then, in the blink of an eye, Jake went from immobile tree planted in front of the window to a thunderous tidal wave sweeping through the Great Hall. He clasped her arm and pulled her with him toward the door The passageways didn't extend to this, the oldest part of the keep, therefore the closest entrance was from a bedroom suite up one flight of stairs, something he was bound to know considering he had spent part of the previous week mapping the secret tunnels.

Gillian had to run to keep up with his long strides and concentrate to make sense of all the words he fired in her direction. "I don't want her to know I am here, not until I think it through. Warn the others, Robbie especially. Scooter best stay with me for now because she would give the game away. Meet me in your bedroom after you get them settled and we can compare notes. I'll watch the goings-on as best I can, but I'll need your insights, too. Oh, and tell your sister and brother-in-law I said good-bye, and that I wish them and their little ones a lifetime of happiness."

Inside the bedchamber, Jake tripped the latch that opened the passageway door. Then he paused and did the most amazing thing. He grinned at her, his eyes alight with mischief. "I love my mother dearly, but her meddling has worn me to the bone. Maybe it's time it backfires on her. What do you think? Are you with me?"

She was far from certain what he asked, but she found that did not matter. This Jake Delaney was a rogue, a pirate, and a highwayman all wrapped up in one. An irresistible combination. "Aye, I am with you."

At that, he did what any good pirate would do. He yanked her toward him, pressed a hard, quick, bone-tingling kiss upon her lips, then disappeared inside the castle's secret halls.

* * *

As Gillian greeted her guests, Jake spied upon the proceedings from a peephole in a portrait hung high on a wall above the entry hall. He had to listen a minute or so before his ears got used to the echo, but once it did he was able to pick up the conversation just fine.

"Ah, Mrs. Dunbar," the earl was saying. "How pleasant to see you again."

"Welcome to Rowanclere, my lord. I must confess I am not Mrs. Dunbar, but her twin, Gillian Ross. My sister and her husband were recently blessed with twin sons, so I shall be your hostess during your visit to Rowanclere."

The Englishman's brows winged up. "Felicitations upon the happy news, in that case, and may I say it is uncanny how much the two of you resemble. Tell me, my dear, are you married?"

"Nae, my lord. I am not."

Harrington beamed a smile at Gillian. "Excellent. I shall be certain to introduce you to my son. For now, allow me to present my companion, Mrs. Delaney."

Jake scowled as his mother and Gillian exchanged pleasantries.
Introduce her to his son. Looks like Mother is running with her own kind.

Gillian laughed at something his mother said, then added, "I am pleased to meet you both. I hope your stay here at Rowanclere will be a pleasant one."

"I am certain we'll have a lovely time." Jake's mother slipped her arm through the earl's and spoke in a teasing tone. "Miss Ross, I feel obligated to warn you it is well-known throughout London that Harrington is searching for a bride for his son."

"As if you're not about the same sneaky business, Elizabeth," observed the earl. Turning to Gillian, he added, "We are engaged in quite a competition to gain the best bride for our boys."

"It's true," Elizabeth confirmed. "It is my fondest wish to see my son happily wed. I confess he's grown quite weary of my efforts to assist him in finding a bride. Has he perchance mentioned that to you?"

Jake's stomach took a dip. The woman never gave up, and now she was going public, to boot. And what was all this touching between her and Harrington about? It was bad enough she'd traveled alone with the man. This sort of behavior bordered on... well... scandalous.

"Your son, Mrs. Delaney?" Gillian asked innocently. "Do I know him?"

"I believe he has been a guest of yours in recent weeks. Mr. Jake Delaney."

"Oh, the writer. Yes, he visited with us for a short time. I do not recall him saying much about his family,"

Behind the wall, Jake gave her a thumbs up. His Gilly was quick.

"A short time?" his mother responded. "My son isn't still here?"

"No." Gillian glanced up toward the portrait. Jake had enough experience with women that the light in her eyes made him wince. He braced himself as she said, "He told us he'd learned all he needed to know about Rowanclere and was returning to his grandfather's home in England. Although, he did plan to visit Inverness, first. The kilt-maker there is the best in the land. Mr. Delaney fell in love with the Highland style of dress during his visit, and he intended to order a whole new wardrobe. First, though, he shall need to make up his mind about his choice of tartan. I've never seen a man dither so much over shades of green and which proved most flattering."

Jake's jaw dropped simultaneously with his mother's. Why
that ornery little scamp.

"Jake in a kilt?" his mother asked, a bewildered note to her voice "I cannot imagine. Maybe we are talking about two different Jake Delaneys. Did this Jake have a dog with him?"

Gillian nodded. "Scooter, the puir wee beastie." As the Texan's mother turned a baffled look toward the earl, Gillian continued, "Would you care to take a brief tour of the castle before I show you to your rooms?"

"Certainly!" Harrington replied, obviously enthused by the prospect.

Taking care to remain hidden, Jake trailed the party through the castle for the next half-hour until Gillian showed them to their rooms. Then he watched from a tower window as she gathered with Angus and Robyn to see the Dunbar family off to Laichmoray, waving goodbye with tears flowing down her face. Jake watched the coach depart and realized the castle would feel a little empty with the babies gone.

He also felt a strong urge to hitch a ride away from here.

His matchmaking mother had come to Rowanclere. "It's enough to scare the boo out of this ghost," he grumbled.

When the Dunbar coach faded from sight he made his way to Gillian's bedchamber to await her arrival. Feeling edgy, he paced the room, his thoughts retracing the events of the day. As a result, by the time she entered her room, he'd worked himself into a lather. He waited until she shut the door behind her, then braced his hands on his lips and bellowed. "Kilts? Most complimentary shade of green?"

"I believe I said most flattering shade."

He continued to glare at her, and she stared right back. "You forced me to lie, Jake. I dinna like to lie."

"This from the woman who tied on a feather pouch and pretended to be pregnant?"

She shrugged. "It's different lying to your mother."

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth until finally, he abandoned the struggle and freed his grin.

"You are the cutest little thing. Mama will really like you. She will—" He broke off abruptly. He shut his eyes, grimaced, shuddered, and said, "Gillian, I want you to stay as far away from her as possible."

"What? I don't understand."

"Let me put it this way. No matter how nice and friendly and helpful she appears, my mother will not have your best interests at heart. The woman always has an ulterior motive for everything she does."

Gillian folded her arms. "That's not a nice way to talk about your mother."

"It's the truth, though. I can't let down my guard one little bit."

"Afraid she'll succeed in her matchmaking?"

Damn, cut right to the nut of it, didn't she? "It got rather nasty before I left London. My mother on the hunt is the stuff of nightmares, princess. You should have seen some of the gems she hauled home for supper."

"You think she'll act the same way here?"

"Sure. It got to where anyone in skirts would do, and considering the mode of dress for men here in Scotland, that tends to worry me a bit."

Gillian visibly bristled. "Since I'm the only marriageable woman at Rowanclere at the moment, ye need not fash yersel'. Dinna worry, Texas. Yer no in the least bit of danger from me. I widna have ye if ye were the last man in Scotland. Why, I'd rather be matched with a grumpy auld—"

It was too much for Jake. "Oh, haud yer wheest, Gillian."

"—bodach than someone like—" she broke off abruptly. "What did you say?"

"Haud yer wheest. Robyn taught it to me. It basically means shut up. Since you have me wearing a dress now, I figured I should learn a bit of the language."

"Oh my." She sank onto a chair, closed her eyes, and rested the back of her hand against her brow. "What monster have I created?"

Jake strangled back a chuckle. When he spied her peeking through her lashes, her own mouth twitching with a smile, he let the laughter loose. "Aw shoot, princess." He sank onto his knees before her and took both her hands in his. "Thank you for that. I didn't know how much I needed that laugh. Gillian, I apologize for how I said what I said. I certainly didn't mean to be insulting. My mother simply brings out the worst in me upon occasion."

"And this is one of those occasions."

"Most definitely. This desire of hers to see me wed gets my temper up, and when I'm in a temper, I don't think straight. I hope you'll forgive me, and that you'll still be my friend."

She sniffed. "I don't think it's temper, Jake. I think you're afraid of the woman. I think you're afraid she'll win."

"Damned straight I am. I wake up in a cold sweat sometimes from nightmares about it. She doesn't want me to go adventuring, you see, and she's wearing me down. I'm afraid that when it comes to my mama, I'm a cream puff."

"Cream puff? You?"

"It's humiliating, princess."

"I don't believe it, Texas. Not a cream puff." She paused and thumped a finger against pursed lips as she pondered for a moment. "You're more a marshmallow."

Damned if it didn't take all his strength not to take her in his arms right then and there.
Not a marshmallow, princess. When your eyes get to sparkling like that, I'm a red hot jalapeno pepper.

She might have seen something of it in his eyes, because she cleared her throat nervously and said, "So, what happens next? Does your mother's presence require any changes to the haunting plan?"

Standing and stepping away from her, Jake blew out a breath and forced his mind back to the matter at hand. "I don't see why it would. Although, I'm having a hard time deciding which trick to use at the midday meal—your moving breadbasket or my swinging chandelier."

"I'd say the basket. It's a nice, simple start."

"You're probably right. Except, it might not be enough for a member of the College of Psychic Studies. I allowed my mother to distract me during the castle tour, I'm afraid. If I had paid Harrington closer attention, I might have picked up a clue as to what would work best for the first haunt."

"You have both wiles set to work, correct?" Jake nodded, and Gillian continued. "We have half an hour before luncheon is served. Watch him in his bedchamber for a bit. That might give you your clues."

"I think I'll do that. This first trick will set the mood for the entire week."

A few minutes later with Gillian at his side, Jake flicked back the peephole cover and peered inside Lord Harrington's bedchamber. Immediately, everything inside him froze. Oh, my God!

A strangled sound emerged from his throat as he jerked back and slammed the peephole shut.