A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,143
you can go about your evening.”
Elspeth’s heart beat so fast, she was sure someone would notice. She worked to keep her outward appearance relaxed, but feared she was squeezing Aunt Leah’s hand rather tightly. Giving her an encouraging smile, Elspeth loosened her grip.
The silence in the common room grew. Everyone looked around, mostly in fear. In addition to Elspeth and her aunt, the guests were one single man, a married couple, and three women.
“I’m disappointed no one will speak,” the man said, frowning. He inclined his head to a man standing not too far to his right. Then he pointed at Elspeth. “Her.”
“No!” Aunt Leah grabbed Elspeth’s arm.
“Don’t fret, Aunt Leah,” Elspeth said with a calm she didn’t feel.
The man came toward her. He was very tall, with wild, straw-colored hair and small, intense eyes. He held a flintlock pistol and had a sword strapped to his hip.
Elspeth stood and squared her shoulders, hoping the posture would give her some much-needed courage. “What do you want with me?”
The man at the fireplace gestured for her to come forward. “Kent, bring her.”
Kent reached for her, but Elspeth hurried around another table and went to the man who was apparently their leader. She gave him a defiant stare as she arrived at his side.
The leader’s eyes glittered with impatience. “My men said your room was cold. Tell me why.”
“I was overheated. I had the window open.”
“Then why were there men’s boots in your room?”
Oh, hell. She hadn’t even had time to consider that. Heat rushed to her face, and she didn’t think it was possible he wouldn’t notice.
“They’re mine,” she said with only the barest hesitation. “I sometimes dress as a man. Undoubtedly, they also saw my coat.”
Pulling back his lips in an exaggerated smile, the leader bared his teeth. “I find that hard to believe, Miss…?”
“Why does my name matter? Besides, I don’t know yours.”
“I am Hurst Grover. I work for an organization, and we are here to find a sword that rightfully belongs to us.”
No, it didn’t! Elspeth pressed her lips together.
He stepped toward her. “Now, you are…?”
She felt the breath of the other man—Kent—behind her. “Miss Marshall.”
“Lovely. Now, Miss Marshall, where is the man who was in your room?”
“I told you, the boots and coat are—”
She didn’t get to finish because Grover’s hand shot out, striking her across the mouth. Pain streaked through her lips and cheek. She tasted blood. Her aunt’s cry filled the common room, and Elspeth could hear others murmuring. But she didn’t turn her head to look. She kept her gaze—and all her fury—directed at Grover.
“I know where it is.”
Now Elspeth swung her head, as did Grover, toward the person who had spoken.
Carrie looked at him, her eyes devoid of their usual brightness.
“Carrie, don’t,” Elspeth said.
She turned her gaze to Elspeth and pushed herself up from the table. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter Nine
Leaving from Elspeth’s window proved more difficult once Tavish got outside. He’d found a footing in the stonework, then a gust of cold wind had nearly blown him to the ground. The sound of voices in Elspeth’s room nearly drove him back inside, but he didn’t know how many men he would face. Better to assess the situation and hopefully recruit the pair of grooms in the stable to help him.
As he made his way along the stones toward the corner of the building, he was simultaneously grateful for his bare feet and annoyed. He was able to use his toes to grip the stones, but they were absolutely freezing, and the wind was fierce, so that by the time he rounded the edge of the building and dropped onto the roof of the lean-to, his feet were quite cold.
Ignoring his discomfort, he lowered himself from the roof, then pivoted toward the stable. Lanterns hung on either side of the wide entryway. In the middle stood a man—not one of the grooms—with a musket. Bloody hell.
Tavish waited until the man’s head was turned, then dashed over to the building, pressing himself against the icy stone. Moving quickly, he crept along the shadows. Damn, he wished he had his boots, and not just because his feet were cold. He wanted his knife. Except that he hoped Elspeth had been able to grab it.
He couldn’t use the sword because it would flame as soon as Tavish was threatened. The last thing he wanted to do was set his opponent on fire and have that fire spread to the stables. Lann Dhearg was a powerful weapon, but in