Page 12 of Deception of a Highlander

To prove her point, she waited by the horse strapped with her bags, hoping Kieran would lift her onto its back. While he appeared otherwise engaged, Colin was more than eager to assist. He cradled her waist a moment before he lifted her to the saddle with ease.

Colin was not as tall as Kieran or as large, and he carried himself with less of a stiff-backed silence. While remarkably attractive and charismatic, he did not hold the quiet, brooding mystery that drew her to Kieran.

Nor did he possess the information she needed.

Mariel drew a steadying breath. She was doing this for Jack. All she needed to do was obtain the location of Blair and Dougal Hampton, and she could be free without anyone having been physically harmed.

She patted the glossy brown neck of her steed and regained her composure. Kieran had gone to great expense to purchase their horses, especially considering the exorbitant prices in London.

Once everyone was in their saddles, she urged her horse to his side to express her gratitude and appreciation.

“You have purchased very fine horses for us. Thank you.” No one had bought a gift for her in years and certainly none so grand as the steeds. The idea of accepting such an expensive gift made her uncomfortable but also gave her a glimmer of hope that she might succeed in her assignment. After all, no one would gift something so costly and not expect anything in return.

“A cheap horse is no’ a good horse, and we have a verra long distance to travel.” He gave an indifferent shrug and rode ahead to join Alec, leaving her alone as they departed the palace grounds.

The horses’ hooves clacked loudly against the dirty, cobbled streets and echoed off the tired buildings that housed man and business alike. Mariel was leaving London, leaving the overwhelming presence of Aaron and the power he kept clutched in his bony fist.

Nothing held her to the filthy city; at least nothing she cared to remember. Nothing except Jack, with his silky black curls and precious smiles. The very thought tightened in her chest. The memories hurt more as time passed, but she did not shy from them. Coupled with the guilt she harbored for her actions to free him, the pain of her memories kept her human.

She turned back to her former home, facing the ugliness of the city. Somewhere in the filth and fog was her one reason for living, and she basked in the ache that pulled at her heart. She did this for a purpose, a reason more important than her own life.

Determination flared within and filled her with a renewed energy. She would be successful, and when she returned, Jack would be free.

She glanced to where Kieran rode ahead of her. Even from her vantage point, she could make out his exposed forearm where he’d rolled up his sleeve. Though he maintained a relaxed hold on the reins, the strength beneath his tanned flesh stood out with sinewy muscle that would have left the Greeks desperate to sculpt him.

Seducing him would be easy enough. She’d seen the desire in his eyes, felt it in the warmth of his mouth when his lips almost grazed hers. Almost.

She could lose herself to a man like Kieran MacDonald.

Trepidation crept into her chest and squeezed the air from her lungs. She could lure the man into her bed, but would she be able to keep her own heart protected?

CHAPTER 6

Mariel swayed in time with her steed’s gait, and her breath fogged in front of her. Pine trees crowded the narrow trail, scenting the air with a sharp tang.

The deep intake of breath did little to quell the anxious churning in her stomach. A fortnight had passed since they’d left London, and not once had she had a chance to be alone with Kieran.

Not that Mariel hadn’t tried. True, he spoke to her often. His banter bordered on flirtation, and he seemed to seek her out for conversation, but all her suggestions to lure Kieran from the others had been thwarted with his petty excuses. As if he did not wish to be alone with her.

A disheartening fact echoed in the razor edge of Jane’s glare.

Mariel studied her maid’s childlike profile. The woman was not as old as her harsh words made her appear. Jane was similar to so many of Aaron’s other whores. Young, pretty, full of bitter self-loathing, pushed forward with the futile hope of rising above her station. Like most of Aaron’s girls, she had doubtless been a street urchin lucky enough to clean up well and keep all her teeth to adulthood.

Mariel, however, had a different beginning.

After her parents had fallen victim to the plague and her neighbors turned her and Jack away in fear, she had become his sole caretaker. When hopes for employment became a fruitless reality, they were forced onto the streets. They survived well enough for a few months by scavenging for food in the stinking masses of filth piled outside homes and shops. Then Jack got sick.

No doctor would look at him when she had no coin to pay, and all declared the same dismal fate—he would be dead within the week and wasn’t worth the expense.

Aaron had approached her then, elegant and handsome in his velvet breeches and fashionable brocade doublet. She had been penniless and desperate to cling to any scrap of hope she could grasp. His words were soothing, delivered with a confidence she wanted to trust no matter how wary she had become. She knew better, but she’d had no other options.

Mariel glanced once more to where Jane rode beside her. How the woman had been pulled into their dark life was of little importance. They were both among the many on Aaron’s shelf of broken dolls, and for that, Mariel could not help but feel sympathy toward her wayward companion.

* * *

Kieran watched Mariel’s straight back ahead of him. Her maid’s complaints had carried on throughout their journey thus far. Mariel, however, had tolerated the brutal pace in silence, even though her stiff-backed walk hinted her obvious discomfort.

Truth be told, he had enjoyed her companionship and was glad for her presence. It’d been a long time since anyone had really made him smile.