The Making of a Highlander (Midnight in Scotland #1) - Elisa Braden Page 0,53

waited like ominous sentries.

From inside the room, Angus spoke. His voice was remarkably quiet and threaded with steel. “Ye’re not to see her again, Huxley. No more teachin’. No more visits.”

Annie spun to face her father. “Dinnae be ridicu—”

“Haud yer wheesht and listen, lass,” he barked. “Ye seek him out again, and I’ll make that bonnie face of his far less bonnie. That’s a promise. Ye ken?”

“But I—”

“Dinnae try me, Annie.” His voice was harsh. Unyielding. “If ye want to keep yer place in my house, do as I tell ye!”

Shock widened her eyes and rounded her lips. Watching her expression, John knew Angus had never before made such a threat.

“Da,” she whispered as though it was the only word she had left.

John hated the hurt on her face. He wanted to gather her in and hold her tight until it disappeared. He’d felt the same after the women in the dress shop had ridiculed her.

But she wasn’t his. He must remember that. He might have fooled himself for a while, savoring their game more than was wise. She might make him feel alive after a long stretch in the grave.

But she bloody well wasn’t his. And he was damaging her by pretending differently.

Using her distraction as an opportunity, he nodded his understanding to Angus, who looked devastated to have wounded his daughter but determined not to show it. Then, John slipped between the tallest two brothers and made for the entrance hall.

Just as he exited the front door, Campbell caught up with him. “I need to speak with ye.”

Silent and unsmiling, Campbell MacPherson was intimidating on a good day. Now, in the frost-coated dark, the man seemed more monster than man.

“Your father made himself clear.” John tugged on his hat. “I’ll keep my distance. Nothing more to say.”

“Annie mentioned ye ran into David Skene on yer return from Inverness.” Amusement entered the other man’s voice. “She said ye handled yerself in a right entertainin’ fashion. Two pistols. A wild tale about Spanish brigands.” He paused. “Ye kept her safe. I’m grateful to ye.”

“There was never any question,” John replied softly. “And the wild tale was true.”

This time, the pause was longer. “Da believes ye’ll use Annie to gain an advantage then cast her aside when ye return to England.”

“I’m aware.”

“A man bent on such a scheme would have no use for a chaperone. He’d take what he wanted because he could.”

“Indeed.”

A nod was followed by another deep, considering silence. “Skene’s attacks have been bolder than I anticipated.”

John scowled at the memory of Skene’s hand reaching for Annie. “You’d do well to dispatch that problem sooner rather than later.”

“Aye. We plan to.”

John hesitated, willing his next warning to remain where it belonged—in his head. But out it came, dark and true. “If he comes near her again, I will do it myself.”

Campbell stilled then edged closer. In the faint light from the windows, John could just make out his expression. The heavy brow was furrowed and the jaw was hard, but he wasn’t threatening. At least, not toward John. “Do ye ken which lord Annie aims to wed?”

“No.” Another surge of resentment made him grind his teeth. He’d felt it before. It was stronger now. “My impression is that she seeks the title, not a specific man.”

“’Tis likely Skene has a backer. We dinnae ken who, but he’s almost certainly titled.”

“I concluded the same.”

“Broderick is in danger.” A wince around the man’s eyes spoke of anguish carefully disguised. “Skene’s gang runs a portion of the Bridewell. We must find a way to free him. Soon.”

John glanced at his cart then at the windows of MacPherson House. Then, he eyed the man before him and sighed. “Miss Tulloch’s title hunt may succeed, but it’s unlikely to bear fruit before summer.” He hesitated before making his offer. God, he was an idiot. “When you’ve run out of options for freeing your brother, come see me. I have connections which may be of use.”

Campbell nodded.

John climbed onto his cart and took up the reins. Then, he paused. “MacPherson.”

“Aye?”

He hesitated. Bloody hell, he shouldn’t be doing this.

She wasn’t his. Only an idiot would intervene where no one wanted him.

An idiot. That’s what he was.

“The first dressmaker your sister visited today was here in Glenscannadoo. The women in