Page 61 of The Widow Wore Plaid

“Then we will find some other way to get you home.” Easier said than done, however. She obviously could not carry him, neither did she think she had the strength to drag him if they could even devise a sled of sorts. Few materials presented themselves at present. “I’m going to search along the shoreline. You never know what someone might have left behind.”

“Optimist.”

She laughed, though his attempt at humor spoke of his desperation. “I’ll be just along here. Call out if you need me.”

Nodding, he closed his eyes.

Almost at her wits’ end, Jane followed the shoreline heading north along the loch. Vegetation was thick in spots and she had to skirt around it. The loch’s edge was too spongy to be able to walk next to the water, and she didn’t really know what she was looking for. A miracle, perhaps?

Rounding a little group of small trees, she almost stumbled over one that had been uprooted and lay directly in her path. As she made to walk around it, she stopped and looked at it again. Some type of alder tree she’d guess by the size and bark. The leaves had landed in the water and rotted away, but she was fairly sure it was an alder. Most of the tree lay in the water, where it bobbed with the gentle current. The bobbing drew her attention. If she pushed the rest of the tree into the loch, it should float. Like a raft of sorts.

Suddenly excited, Jane bent over and pushed the rooted end of the tree. It wanted to hang up on the ground cover, but she twisted this way and that and with a mighty thrust, the tree shot out into the water, submerged, then bobbed up to the surface and floated.

“Hooray!” Uncaring now for anything save a way to get Gareth home, Jane waded into the loch. “Oh Lord, that’s cold.” The murky water wasn’t icy, but the cold was seeping quickly into her bones. Better be off quickly. She grasped the tree and pushed it back the way she’d come, walking quicker in the water than she had on the land. At least it seemed that way because the little spot of land where Gareth lay came into view much quicker than she’d thought.

She anchored the tree as best she could, pushing it up into the cattails to keep it from drifting away before climbing through the rushes and onto dry land. Her skirts clung to her legs, making it more difficult to walk. If she’d still had her petticoat she’d have abandoned the heavy thing. Rushing over to where Gareth lay, she had a sudden premonition that she’d find him dead, but he had actually sat up, a pleasant surprise. His coloring was still paler than normal, but he seemed alert, smiling as she approached.

“Did you fall in?”

“No, I jumped in.” Smiling, she extended her hand to help him up. They should go immediately if he was feeling better. She doubted it would last in his condition.

“Thinking about swimming across the loch, are you?” He got to his feet, swaying a little.

“More like sailing across.” She drew his good arm across her shoulders to take some of his weight. Hoping he wouldn’t balk at the cold water, she helped him to the water’s edge. “Your barge awaits, Mark Anthony.”

Gareth spied the tree and laughed delightedly. “Not exactly what Cleopatra would have provided, I think, but you have done marvelously, my dear.”

“I think if you drape yourself across the trunk and lay very still I can push it across the loch by kicking my legs.” She glanced down at the filthy red nankeen skirt, still clinging tightly around her. “I suppose I will need to pull the cloth up somewhat to free my legs.”

“Or you could take it off completely.” He grinned at her. “I assure you, as there is no one here to see, I won’t mind at all.”

“You must be feeling better if you can make such a lewd suggestion, Kinellan. I suppose I was worried for nothing.” Relieved, she grinned back at him. “Shall we climb aboard?”

He stopped her before she could step into the water, running his finger down her cheek in a soft caress. “I predict you will be the best, most resourceful marchioness there has ever been at Kinellan, my love.”

The unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking froze the reply on her lips.

They turned together and Jane gasped.

Rory Seton stood before them, pistol outstretched. “She’s never going to be Marchioness of Kinellan.”

* * *

Without thought, Gareth pushed Jane behind him, hoping she wouldn’t lose her footing and end up in the water. Their dangerous situation had just become dire indeed. He straightened his shoulders, disregarding any pain as he fought to keep his head clear and look for an advantage where surely none existed.

Jane pressed against his back gave him additional strength. He would not let his murderous kinsman harm her no matter what he had to do. And the first thing he could do was try to reason with his cousin.

“Rory, you need to put the gun down.” Holding his arms out, as though his hands alone could stop the ball from killing them, Gareth hoped to find a way to reason with his cousin.

“Huh. Not a chance, Kinellan.” Rory waggled the pistol at them.

Gareth held his breath. Lord God, don’t let it go off. “If you don’t harm us, I’ll make certain the magistrate treats you with mercy.” Transportation for Rory and his wife would be a godsend to them. Attempted murder of a peer carried an automatic sentence of death by hanging.

“No one’ll ever know it was me if you just go missing.” He nodded to the loch. “Yon loch won’t give up a weighted body too quickly. By the time it does, none will have an inkling that I was ever near you the day you made away with the lass.” He chuckled. “They might even think you did for her, then drowned yourself for grief. I’ve heard of men doing that.”

“I don’t think anyone will believe that of me, Rory. I have friends who know me well, who know of my deep devotion to Jane and hers to me. They would never believe I could harm her.” Slowly Gareth moved his arms down by his sides. He needed to get to the gun in the carry bag that Jane was carrying.

“I don’t care what they believe.” He waved the pistol in Gareth’s face. “I will not live my life like my father did, always in the shadow of his brother and of you. That title’s just as much mine as it is yours.”