Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance Read online

  “I checked the entire inn yard,” he continued, “and found nothing out of place. The public room is empty and the front door was well bolted before I went out to investigate. I think it’s safe to say the noise you heard was nothing more than the storm.”

  She tightened her arms a fraction more, aware of what he must be thinking. No doubt he was fighting an urge to roll his eyes and laugh over what a silly goose she was—terrified by the wind and a few random tree branches.

  “Well,” she said brusquely. “Pray accept my thanks for your efforts, however unnecessary they may have proven to be.”

  “It was no trouble, lass, but you’re quite welcome all the same.”

  “Your Highness,” she corrected, embarrassment making her tone come out sharper than intended.

  “What?”

  “Your Highness,” she repeated more softly. “You really ought not refer to me in such a casual manner. Calling me lass is highly inappropriate.”

  He arched a single russet brow and gave her a long, considering look. “Still a princess, are ye, then?”

  Of course I am a princess, she thought automatically. Then a new thought occurred, one that made her heart sink. Is he like the others, after all? Does he believe I am lying?

  But then he smiled, his eyes shining with a warmth that left her uncertain all over again.

  “As you wish, Your Highness,” he said. “My sincerest apologies for the lapse in etiquette. Now, if that will be all for the evening, I am tired and must seek my bed.”

  Her chest gave a hard squeeze. “You are right. It is very late.”

  “Aye, that it is.”

  She shivered despite the warmth in the room. I shall be fine alone, she thought, chiding herself for her cowardice. He checked for intruders and everything is safe and secure. The men who attacked my coach have not tracked me here, and anything I may hear from now on is just the wind.

  MacKinnon swung around to leave. As he did, the building shuddered again; the windows rattled in their frames and an eerie, keening wail rose that sounded like an animal in pain.

  “No, don’t go!” she cried hurriedly.

  He turned back, a look of understanding in his eyes. “There’s no one prowling around outside, lass…I mean, Your Highness. It’s naught but the wind whistling against the timbers. You’re safe here.”

  She clenched her fingers together and tried not to tremble.

  She trembled regardless.

  “I—I know,” she said. “It’s just…well…just that…”

  “Just what?”

  “I am scared to be alone,” she confessed. “I’ve been having nightmares and I fear they will start again the moment I close my eyes. Could you not stay?”

  He regarded her silently for a moment “By stay, ye mean you want me tae sleep in here with ye tonight?”

  “Yes,” she answered in a curiously breathless voice. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Chapter 4

  A flood of possibilities raced through Daniel’s mind, each one more provocative than the last, as he mulled over the invitation to spend the night with Mercedes.

  Not that she’d meant her offer in a sexual way—he knew that without asking. Nevertheless, he was a man, and she was a fetching lass in spite of her present difficulties. Any healthy male would have trouble keeping his thoughts pure and wholesome around her, particularly considering the borrowed nightclothes she wore, which didn’t conceal nearly as much of her shapely figure as she assumed.

  Then there was her long hair that flowed like a dark river over her shoulders and along the graceful curve of her back—wavy and sleek and ripe for the touch of a man’s hands. Her lovely face with its rosy mouth didn’t lessen the strength of his musings either, nor the deep melting pools of her eyes that gazed beseechingly into his own in a way that seemed to reach straight through to his soul.

  But even as his body warmed to the carnal ideas that teased his senses, his mind cooled it down as fast as a dip in an icy loch. For as plain as the nose on her wee bonnie face, she was innocent and clearly had no notion of just how dangerous a suggestion she had made. Another man might have taken advantage of the situation. But despite the undeniable temptation she presented, he wasn’t in the habit of ravishing untried young misses—particularly ones scared out of their wits.

  With a regretful sigh, he set his illusions firmly aside. “I’m sorry you’re still afraid, Your Highness, but I don’t think my staying is a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Well, for one, there’s the issue of where I am to sleep. Or are you offering tae let me share yer bed?”

  “No! Most certainly not.”

  Even in the dim glow of the candlelight, he saw the blush that spread over her cheeks like a burn.

  “I—I thought you could use one of the chairs.” Lamely, she pointed toward the less-than-hospitable wooden chairs in which they had seated themselves for dinner.

  He shot a baleful look toward the offending pieces of furniture. “Not bluidy likely, lass…Your Highness, I mean. A few hours in one of those and I wouldn’t be able to walk upright come morning.”

  A tiny frown, which he found unexpectedly adorable, creased her brow. “Oh. Well, I suppose I could sleep in a chair.”

  “Then you’d be the one turned into a cripple by dawn. No, it won’t do.”

  Terror returned to her eyes. “I beg of you to remain. I—I really won’t mind the chair and you can have the bed.”

  Bluidy hell, he cursed silently. Now what was he to do? Especially with her looking at him like some defenseless kitten who’d been tossed out into the street?

  He knew she was in no danger. He’d checked the inn and the yard beyond, even the outbuildings to make sure there was no one skulking about who didn’t belong. He’d found nothing, and met no one except a sleepy stable hand who’d awakened when he’d entered the stables to take a look there as well.

  Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how much of her story to believe. She’d claimed her coach had been attacked by a band of highwaymen who had killed everyone in her party except herself, and that she’d only managed to survive by hiding deep in the nearby forest. But if that were true, reports of such a horrific incident would have traveled far and wide by now—reaching even an out-of-the-way glen such as this one. Murder was always prime news, and murdered travelers would receive special attention at any time of year. The inn patrons would have been buzzing with the tale, but they had not been because there had been no such report.

  Even so, he might have believed her were it not for her even more ludicrous claim that she was a princess. He had to give her credit for maintaining the ruse, although why she continued to play the part he didn’t know. What did she hope to gain by pretending to be a royal? Or was it a delusion she’d conjured up in order to escape the painful reality of her life?

  Yet whatever might or might not have happened to her, and regardless of who she might really be, there was no doubt that her fear was real. Also real was the fact that for some completely inexplicable reason, she brought out his protective instincts. He’d been unable to abandon her earlier today when he’d seen the crowd turn against her in the common room, and in spite of knowing how gullible he was being, he again found he could not abandon her.

  “Och, all right,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

  A brilliant smile spread over her face, its radiance almost angelic to behold.

  His blood warmed once more at the sight.

  Hastily, he glanced away. “I willna sleep in a chair, but the floor will do if I’ve enough padding.”

  As he well knew, the hard wooden floor wouldn’t make for the most comfortable of arrangements. But he’d slept on worse over the years, and at least he would be warm and dry. He shuddered to remember a few of the cold rainy nights he’d spent while on march through the Spanish countryside, when even the officers had been chilled straight through to the bone.

  “Do you want my coverlet?” she offered.

  He shook his head, thinking one last longing time of the comfortable bed he was about to give up. “Nae, I’ll go next door and get my own bedding. I’ll be back in a trice.”

  Unfastening the bolt, he let himself out into the empty hallway.

  Mercedes had no idea how much time had passed when a hand on her shoulder shook her awake. Drawing a ragged breath, she opened her mouth to scream, but the hand moved quickly to cover her lips so she couldn’t make a sound.

  “Ye’re having a nightmare, lass,” came a throaty whisper through the darkness. “It’s only me. There’s no one here to harm you.”

  MacKinnon.

  “Are you awake now?” he asked. “You’ll no’ scream, will you, if I remove my hand?”

  Wordlessly, she shook her head.

  Slowly he withdrew his palm.

  As soon as he did, she threw herself against his chest, trembling with relief when his arms moved to enfold her. Closing her eyes, she burrowed into his warmth and strength as she tried to forget the frightening images that lingered in her mind.

  He said nothing, seemingly content to let her cling. Idly, he began to stroke her hair in long, easy glides that soothed her frayed nerves and slowed the pace of her frantically beating heart.

  “Better?” he questioned at length.

  “Mm-hmm,” she said with a contented sigh.

  Breathing deeply, she took comfort in his clean, sleep-warmed scent. The fabric of his shirt was soft against her cheek, while his chest provided a wonderfully firm cushion beneath.

  I never want to move again, she thought. How blissful to just sit here like this forever.

  Renewed weariness swept through her, exhaustion seeping back into her muscles and bones as the last of her night terrors be
gan to fade.

  Sleepy and warm.

  She was so delightfully sleepy and warm.

  And safe.

  Safe with Daniel MacKinnon.

  Nothing could harm her when she was with him, not even her dreams.

  She smiled to herself, drowsy and on the verge of sleep.

  Dimly, she felt him ease her backward onto the bed and settle her head against her pillow.

  He started to move away, but she reached out to stop him.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered, so sleepy she wondered if she was already dreaming again.

  “I’ll only be a few feet away,” he told her.

  “It’s too far. Stay with me.”

  She sensed the sudden tension in his body and heard the long silence.

  “Stay,” she murmured again. “You’ll be more comfortable in the bed.”

  A wry, silvery chuckle filled the air. “You’ve the right of that, lass. Even so—”

  “I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she whispered. “You’ll keep me from being afraid. Don’t go.”

  Another long silence followed before she heard him sigh. “All right, Your Highness, but don’t blame me come morning.”

  Blame him for what? she wondered drowsily.

  The bed dipped beneath his weight as he stretched out next to her. He pulled the covers over them both, then settled back, leaving a narrow width of space between their bodies.

  Rolling onto her side, she snuggled against him, her head pillowed on the broad expanse of his shoulder. His chest moved up and down in silent laughter as he curved an arm over her back and drew her close.

  “Just don’t forget whose idea this was,” he remarked.

  She’d fought the increasing lure of sleep too long for his words to make sense. Relaxing fully for the first time since her entire world had been turned upside down so many terrifying hours ago, she tumbled into a deep, dreamless oblivion.

  Daniel stared into the darkness, far too aware of the young woman slumbering so trustingly in his arms.

  Too trustingly.

  It was reckless of her to put so much faith in a stranger, yet here she was, lying beside him as though she had known him all her life. Once again, he thought about the way another man might have taken advantage of the situation. After all, she was beautiful and much too conveniently close at hand. How easy it would be to lean over and kiss her. An unscrupulous rogue would have done that and a great deal more, whether she desired his attentions or not. But he supposed her instincts had led her in the right direction, since he was an honorable man at his core.

  He also supposed he ought to have refused her and gone back to his own bed, but how could he when she’d gazed at him with such open entreaty in her melting dark eyes? Usually he wasn’t so easily swayed by a pretty face, but there was something about her that reached down deep and found the compassion he had learned to bury long ago.

  If only his reaction to her went no further than compassion, then it would be an easy matter to sleep here at her side. But honorable or not, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was a very desirable female—a female he did not dare have.

  One night, he thought. I can lie with her for a single night with no harm done to either of us.

  When morning arrived, he would continue on his way home, while she continued on to hers, wherever it might be. He frowned at the thought, wondering how she would fare on her journey. But his compassion could be expected to extend only so far. He didn’t have either the time or the inclination to nursemaid some lost, frightened girl for days on end. Instead, he would give her a bit of money to see her on her way, then say his good-byes. It was the right thing to do, for them both.

  Telling himself he was satisfied with his decision, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. But try as he might, many long minutes passed before slumber finally claimed him.

  Chapter 5

  Mercedes awakened to a flood of early morning sunshine, the room made pleasantly warm by the gently rising summer heat outside. Soon her lady’s maid would be along to chase her from her bed. Mercedes would then enjoy her usual breakfast of toast and fruit and tea while the other young woman bustled around the room laying out her clothes and preparing her bath. Once Mercedes was dressed and her belongings repacked, they would climb back into the coaches and resume their journey home.

  Resume their journey home…

  Mercedes’s eyes snapped wide, the spare surroundings of the inn bedchamber coming into sharp focus.

  So it hadn’t been a dream after all. Instead, it had been a nightmare from which she wished she could awake. Tears she hadn’t been able to shed before filled her eyes, sliding silently over her cheeks and chin as she realized that her maid would not be coming to attend her. She would never do so again because she was dead; they were all dead.

  A quick knock sounded at the door.

  She sat up with a jolt, as though startled by a gunshot. Before she had time to speak, the door opened and the inn’s serving maid entered bearing a well-laden tray.

  “I’ve brought yer breakfast,” the girl announced as she crossed to the table without bothering to glance Mercedes’s way. “Good Scottish oats and a pot of strong black tea. There’s milk too, if ye’ve a liking for it. Personally, I can’t abide having mae meal watered down, but then ye’re English, so I suppose it’s only tae be expected.”

  Mercedes opened her mouth to say that she was not English but just as quickly realized there was no point in attempting to explain. Instead, she lifted the sheet and used a corner to quietly wipe the dampness from her face. She would have preferred a handkerchief, but she had none at present. In point of fact, she no longer had any personal belongings to her name, not even the nightgown she was wearing.

  She looked for her robe where she had left it lying across the end of the bed, but it wasn’t there. Instead, she found the garment draped over the back of a nearby chair. How had it gotten there?

  Suddenly a fresh flood of memories rushed upon her and she gasped. Her gaze darted first to the floor and then to the bed’s spare pillow lying so innocently next to her own.

  The major’s bedding was gone, but not the slight, incriminating dent in the pillow. In her mind’s eye, his nocturnal visit seemed so much like an illusion, jumbled in among all her nightmares and lingering fears. Yet there lay the evidence, the head-shaped dip that clearly showed the reality of his having come to her room last night. She was certain if she lifted the pillow to her nose, she would be able to catch a hint of his heady masculine scent lingering on the linens—a sultry richness that had wrapped comfortingly around her as she’d finally dozed into a blissful sleep last night.

  Heat surged into her face and she raised her palms to cover her cheeks. She darted a look to the side, grateful when she saw that the serving maid was occupied drawing open the curtains, her back turned to the room.

  Heavens above, did I do what I think I did last night? she mused as she lowered her hands to her lap and bowed her head. If she wasn’t misremembering, she had actually begged the major to stay with her—not once but twice, insisting the second time that he actually sleep with her in her bed.

  She had only a vague recollection of their last conversation, and then everything went blank—everything, that is, except for the unsettling memory of curling herself against him as sinuously as a cat, her head pressed to his chest, as she fell into a contented slumber.

  “Don’t blame me come morning.”

  From out of nowhere, his warning replayed itself in her head, the honeyed tones of his voice rounded with ill-suppressed laughter.

  And now here it was—morning. As for any apportionment of blame, she could hold only herself accountable.

  Yet nothing had actually happened, had it?

  All she and the major had done was sleep in the same room—and for a few hours, the same bed—because she had been frightened.

  Of course, should the facts ever become known, she would be ruined. But she wouldn’t worry about such matters now. There was no reason anyone need ever know…she hoped.

  “You’d best eat yer meal afore it grows cold,” the maid said as she turned away from the windows. “I’ll be back with yer new clothes in a few ticks and bring a fresh pitcher of water so ye can wash.”

  “Thank you. That is most kind.”