The Beautiful Stranger (15 page)

It was her fault he was still in Glenbaden. But the lass, she had a way about her that could seep into a mans skin. Thomas would never forget the first day he met her, scarcely a week after Fraser brought her home. With flour on her face and those loose, dark curls bouncing off her shoulders, she had smiled at him as if he was the Good Lord Himself and had offered him a plate of some of the best food hed ever

eaten.

But that was not what made him stay. It was the way she respected everyone in Glenbaden as if they were her closest kin, when in truth, one or two of them werent any more industrious than the cattle. It was the way she had dealt with Fraser, treating him like a king when he wasnt any better than an ass.

Thomas had never cared for Fraser, had not since they were ladsthere was something ugly about him, something that gave a body a cold shudder from time to time.

But Frasers worst crime was letting his wife work herself almost into the ground without a single encouraging word. Kerry McKinnon had done everything even a man could do to keep the land producing and rents paid at a time when it seemed everyone around the little glen was being forced from their homes in favor of Black-faced sheep.

And she had done it with a sunny disposition, too, even if she had become a wee bit desperate over the last two years. Any fool could see what was happeningthe land was too rocky to support a cash crop.

The beeves were too sickly with the fever in their bones. Fraser had not known what to do and had let some stranger buy in with a bit of cash. It had not been enough cash to save Glenbaden, though.

Well, no one knew the glen like Thomas, least of all Fraser, and he wasnt too proud to admit it. Hed meant to go a long time past, but he never seemed to find the right time. He could not leave them, not with things as bad as they were and getting worse. One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew, he was almost all Kerry had. Big Angus could not tend to the glen alone, not with a group of women and infirm old men.

So Thomas had stayed.

Which had brought him full circle back to his original conviction that a man should move on unless he wants his heart and his mind to get all wrapped around some unwanted entanglement. And dammit if he had not found himself with an entanglement. He was sick to death with worry about Kerrythe lass had been gone two days too long nowand he was just about as scared as he had ever been in his life.

He and Big Angus had discussed it over a plate of haggis last night, had decided if she didnt come home today, Thomas would go after her. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he was goinghaving never left Glenbaden, he wasnt entirely certain how large a place like Dundee might be, or how difficult it might be to find his way there. He couldnt even assume she had actually reached Dundee, but he refused to let himself imagine the things that might have happened, and had snapped Mays head nearly clean from her shoulders when she had begun to hypothesize on that point. He just preferred no one say a word, not a single word, because God knew his own conscience was talking enough for all of them.

Now that the day had come and almost gone with no sign of Kerry, Thomas donned the coat his father had left when he had died fifteen years ago and packed a sack of Mays biscuits. Big Angus drew him a mapa bit sketchy, it seemed to Thomas, seeing as how Big Angus hadnt left the glen in a dozen years himself. But at least Big Angus knew where to find Pitlochry, and Thomass plan was to reach it before nightfall, then start out from there the next morning.

He finished wrapping the biscuits and walked outside to say his fare-thee-wells, but was distracted by Big Anguss excited shout from somewhere near the barley fields. Thomas squinted across the field in the direction Big Angus pointed, and his heart actually skipped a beat or two. Thank the saints; hed never in his life seen anything as wonderful as the sight of Kerry McKinnon walking across that field, even if she was trampling the new growth.

And hed never in his life been as livid as he was with the man who was walking next to her.

Whoever the hell the stranger was, Thomas hoped for his sake that he had a damn good explanation for why Mrs. McKinnon was two days late and looked like that. Lord Almighty, her hair was loose and flying around her, her mourning clothes caked with dirt all the way up to her neck, and her pretty face was smudged with what looked to be mud. The lass looked as is shed rolled all the way from Dundee!

He found it highly ironic, therefore, that Kerry was grinning.

Grinning.

Well, there it was, then. There was not a damn thing the stranger could say now that would save his bloody hide, and Thomas would take great delight in doing the killing, too. He dropped his bundle and walked out to greet them.

Thomas! Kerry cried, and ran the last few yards to him, laughing as she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. The sour smell of loch water assaulted his senses; Thomas wrinkled his nose as he pulled her arms from his neck.

Been worried unto death about ye, lassie, he said gruffly, aware that he had yet to take his hands from her wrists.

Oh, Thomas, you will never believe what has happened! she exclaimed gleefully, but before she could tell him just what in the hell had happened, she caught sight of Big Angus lumbering toward them. Big Angus! She slipped from Thomass grasp as May came running behind Big Angus, shrieking her thanks to the Lord above.

In the middle of their joyful reunion, Thomas turned and raked a very cold gaze over the stranger.

To his credit, the man calmly beheld him as Thomas took in the wavy hair, the beard that looked to be a few days old, the sorry state of his clothing and the mans boots. The rest of him looked like hell, but those were some of the finest boots Thomas had ever seen in his life. He lifted a blistering stare to the mans face. All right then, just who in Gods name are ye?

Arthur Christian, he responded politely, and extended his hand.

Bloody hell, a Lobsterback on top of everything else! Thomas scowled at his proffered hand. You see the lad standing just there, he drawled, jerking a thumb in the general direction of Big Angus. The stranger looked at Big Angus, seemed to take in his enormous size and mess of bright red hair, then returned his gaze to Thomas.

Thomas gave him a wry smile. Give me one reason why he shouldna wring your neck like an old hen.

Arthur Christian didnt so much as blink. But a corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, and he said in a voice as pure as Thomas had ever heard, You must be Thomas McKinnon. A pleasure to meet you, sir.

That surprised him greatly; he folded his arms defensively across his chest and cocked his head to one side to better assess the scoundrel. Aye, Id be Thomas McKinnon. And if Thomas McKinnon finds that youve so much as touched a hair on her head, just a single hair, mind ye, so help me God Ill see ye dead, I will.

Incredibly, the stranger chuckled at that and looked to where Kerry was talking excitedly to May, her hands flying as she animated her story. He watched her for just a moment, but a moment in which Thomas had to suppress a groanhe saw something flicker deep in the mans eyes, from some place deep within him. From the place that caused entanglements a man did not need.

The stranger looked at him again, his smirk turning to a lopsided smile. Frankly, sir, I find it nothing short of a divine miracle that I have somehow managed to survive this extraordinary little journey, and relatively unscathed at that. I assure you, you have nothing to fearyour Mrs. McKinnon is quite indestructible.

With a short of disgust, Thomas frowned at Kerrys back. He supposed he should not be too very surprised after all, he knew better than anyone else that the lass had a way about her that could not help but seep into a mans skin.

An hour or more after Maywho was as petite and dark as Big Angus was enormous and redushered Kerry to a waiting bath in the pleasant white house with green shutters, Arthur calmly considered the possibility that he might have to fight his way out of the tidy parlor, judging by the expressions on the faces of Thomas and Big Angus. Both of whom were staring at him from the door. As no one had invited him to be seated, Arthur stood with one shoulder against the wall, his arms folded negligently across his chest, his legs crossed at the ankle, eyeing the two men with some amusement. He had seen similar looks on the faces of fathers and brothers in England, but never delivered with quite such intensity. He rather thought hed have a fair chance with Thomas, although his tall, slender frame belied sinewy muscles that Arthur could see outlined in his clothing. His dark hair, peppered with gray, was just as deceivinghe was a man in his prime.

While he might have had a decent enough chance with Thomas, Arthur was extremely doubtful he could succeed against Big Angus. He had driven smaller carriages than that man.

He sighed, glanced around the room again, taking in the furnishings. The house was certainly smaller than what he was accustomed to, but larger than it appeared on the outside, and much larger than the cottages that dotted the valley. Perhaps a little ragged around the edges, but all in all, like the glen, the house was very pleasing to the eye.

Actually, the view along the tree-lined path leading from the loch into the glen was spectacular. Fields of heather gave way to green slopes of new barley that swept down to the banks of a small stream. The main house, nestled in a clearing overlooking the stream was a white frame and rock structure, marked by green shutters on pane-glass windows. Below the house was a scattering of smaller quarters, mostly thatch and stone, with lazy streams of smoke rising to the clear blue sky. A large stable and barn dominated the foot of one hill, where one horse and two milk cows resided.

But while the exterior of the house was attractive in a rugged sort of way, the interior of the house startled a mans senses, and particularly that of an Englishman. It was quite obvious, even without the grand tour of the place Kerry insisted on giving him, that a woman ruled here. White chiffon curtainsfrom Edinburgh, May had proudly told himlifted gracefully in the breeze, wafting across the muted floral prints that adorned every room. In the four main rooms that dominated the center of the house, there was evidence of many feminine hobbies.

Here, in the parlor, two worn but overstuffed chairs and a couch were covered with big pillows, each depicting a different rural scene in intricate needlework. Books ranging from breeding techniques, to a handful of popular novels, to history tomes and one very large atlas were carelessly scattered across various surfaces. In a small room at the end of the hall that served as an office, the account books lay

open for anyone to inspect. Tiny little numbers were neatly recorded in the columns on a desk permanently stained with a large circle of ink.

It had taken Arthur a quarter of an hour to fathom that what was missing was any sign of a man. In the small cloakroom off the main entry, for example, there were no riding boots or crops, no hats. Instead, the pegs along the wall were draped with faded ribbons and tattered sun bonnets. Where sturdy boots should have stood was a pair of well-worn slippers. There was no tobacco box in the dining room; all port glasses were presumably tucked away in the scarred hutch. In the room with a basin, there were no strops or razors, no neckcloths or waistcoats or buckskins.

The only suggestion that men were even welcome was the presence of a small sideboard in the parlor on which sat one decanter of whiskey.

Only one.

Arthur had to admire Kerrys spunkwhile he might wonder who looked after her, he could not help but respect her bravery. Women were not supposed to milk cows, or balance books, or occupy their time with anything more taxing than an occasional ditty at the pianoforte. For her to struggle to keep this glen afloat was incomparably unique and wholeheartedly admirable. And to his own surprise, he found it quite refreshing one woman, unfettered by the bounds of societal convention, living exactly as she pleased, and none of her family circleincluding the crusty oneseemed to mind.

At the thought of her family circle, Arthur languidly shifted his gaze to Thomas again. As insufferable Scots went, Thomas McKinnon was in top form. So, Arthur said amicably, hoping to lighten his stoic expression with a bit of civilized conversation, I am given to understand that you raise cattle.

Thomas McKinnon did not even blink.

Arthur blithely continued, Must be quite an endeavor, raising beeves. I would imagine it requires a good amount of acreage for grazing.

What ye be doing here, then? Thomas asked.

So much for civilized conversation. Apparently, the inquisition wasnt quite over. I believe I have said. Ive some business in Dundee on behalf of an old friend.

Aye, and what business would that be?

As if he owed the man any explanation at all. Private business.

Private, Thomas repeated, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. Your private business would have naught to do with our Mrs. McKinnon, would it now?

Good God. I beg your pardon, sir, but I cannot speak any plainer than I already have. As Mrs.

McKinnon herself told you, she shot me in the arm then insisted on running off into the wilderness as if she were Moses, without so much as a firearm to protect her. I was compelled as a gentleman to see that she did not come to any harm, and granted, although she returned to you quite mussed, I assure you the consequence might have been far, far worse indeed had I left her to her own devices. I am certain you have noted prior to this occasion that Mrs. McKinnon is perhaps rather headstrong, have you not? I should think it perfectly obvious that I have no designs on her, have never met her ere a day or two ago, and certainly do not intend to take advantage of her hospitality a moment longer than is absolutely

necessary, given the unfortunate chain of events.

Thomass scowl deepened. Then ye willna mind sleeping in the barn, eh?

Oh, Thomas, dont be ridiculous! Hell sleep in the room at the far end of the hall!

Kerry appeared behind Arthurs two guards, shoving her way in between their elbows with such force that she stumbled awkwardly but resplendently into the room. Her cheeks were rosy from the bath; her hair hung in one long braid down her back while little wisps of black curls framed her face. She had, thankfully, disposed of the black bombazine and wore a soft gray gown cinched tightly at the waist and buttoned up to a neckline that dipped well below her shoulders. Her smile was so deep that her fair cheeks dimpled.