Page 54 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Quite right.” Erroll faced his companions. “You ladies will ride in the carriage. I will drive and, you, Oscar and Somerset, will ride.”

Miss Eve Crenshaw shook her head. “You can elude the sheriff faster without us.”

Erroll grunted. “You two ladies sealed your fate and mine when you had me kidnapped. We all go together. We’ll sort out this mess once we reach our destination.”

“And where might that be?”

“That does not concern you.”

“It does—but never mind. I plan to return home.”

“Oscar,” Erroll said, “if you are going to stop me, now is the time; otherwise, I am putting your mistress in this coach and you will see to it she doesn’t jump out.”

“Have you lost your mind?” she demanded.

“Eve,” Somerset said, “he’s right. You cannot simply return to England. There is an alternative, however. Marry me—”

“For heaven’s sake, I have no intention of marrying you.”

His lips pursed. “As you wish. Then you will marry Lord Rushton.”

Somerset rose a notch in Erroll’s estimation, even if the viscount wasn’t helping Erroll’s cause.

“Lord Rushton is my betrothed,” Grace Crenshaw interjected.

“I thought you were going to marry the other one,” Graham said.

“Oh no,” the younger Miss Crenshaw went on. “That has been the plan all along.” She smiled up at Erroll. “Hand fasting takes mere minutes. Surely we have time to complete the ceremony before we leave? We can then use my coach for the trip.”

“You have a coach?” he asked. “Is it ready?”

She shook her head. “I was not anticipating a hasty departure. I engaged a room for us at the inn.”

Erroll cut a look Eve’s way. “I see you thought of everything.”

“That was not Eve’s idea, my lord.”

“You?” he asked the younger sister.

“Yes. But as we now must leave immediately, we can have my carriage readied while the ceremony is performed. That way, we can ensure all is in order when we reach the coast.”

“All is in order?” he repeated, then comprehended her meaning. “Madam, are you suggesting that we consummate our marriage during a carriage ride? Good God, you are what, eighteen years of age? How does a mere chit of a girl contrive to spread her legs for a man in a carriage?”

“You are as guilty as her,” the elder sister cut in with asperity. “She started this mess by lying, but you have even less excuse than her. She is young, you are not. You should have kept a cool head and spoken with my father instead of breaking into my room. You have no one to blame but yourself for this mess.”

“You are right,” Erroll said, then lifted and tossed her into the carriage.

*****

In the last three hours, Eve had failed to devise a way to unravel the mess that now had her and Grace settled in the cabin of a collier ship bound for the Isle of Mull. The Isle of Mull. Holy God, she didn’t want to contemplate what would happen once they reached Lord Rushton’s childhood home. The possibilities boggled her mind.

The carriage trip had given Eve time to think—too much time—and, in the end, she couldn’t fault the earl for forcing her and Grace to go with him. He was, in fact, acting far more chivalrous than they deserved. No doubt, news of the duel was already speeding toward Manchester, headed, ultimately, for London. By tomorrow night, the tidbit would be in all the gossip papers and on the lips of Society’s best. If Lord Halifax died, a warrant for Lord Rushton’s arrest would be issued, and he would have to flee again, probably aboard a ship bound for America.

“I do not understand why you didn’t accept Lord Somerset’s proposal,” Grace’s voice broke into Eve’s thoughts. ”The two of you could have returned to Manchester.”

Obviously, Grace, too, had been mulling over recent events. Eve looked up from her folded hands that rested on the small table and met her sister’s gaze. Grace lounged on the bed they would share for the voyage.

“I do not love him.”