The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Read online

  Her back tingled with the vibrations from his voice. Deep and solid. Just like the rest of him. He’d mentioned he and his travel companion were professors at Edinburgh University. He appeared terribly young for such a spot. He seemed only a few years her senior. Maybe she had misunderstood him.

  Now that they were nearing the inn, she had to decide what she could do about her travel plans. No doubt she and Alice would require a day or two to recover from this mishap. That is if they didn’t come down with an ague that prevented them from continuing on for longer. Luckily, she’d always had a strong constitution, but she couldn’t say the same for her maid. Alice had been a last-minute substitution, because her own lady’s maid had returned to her family’s home for a funeral.

  With no carriage, driver, or footman, they were certainly in a quandary. Yet, she had no intention of turning back. They would need to rent a carriage to take them home, anyway, so why not rent one to carry them on to Bedlay Castle?

  The professor held out his arm. “Beyond that bend is the inn.”

  “Not too soon, to be sure,” she said. She’d begun to shiver miles back and now she felt as if icicles dripped from her chin. Thankfully, the rain had turned to a light drizzle.

  Even though it was only late afternoon, the sky was dark, and the lights from the inn glowed brightly, already making her feel warmer as they approached. Her escort brought the horse to a halt and slid down, handing the reins to a young stableboy. He reached up for Sarah and lifted her off. She continued to shake and shiver, almost unable to walk.

  “Are ye all right, lass?”

  “I th-th-think so.”

  Professor Blackwood and Alice were already hurrying to the door. Sarah took one step and stumbled. With the cold, the extra clothes, and the long ride, her legs wouldn’t hold her, and she began to slide to the ground. He scooped her up and headed to the door.

  “Put me down. This is most improper.”

  “Aye, and I assume falling flat on yer face is the proper thing for an English lady to do?” His grin told her he wasn’t taking it at all seriously. If anyone she knew was in this inn, she would be ruined.

  He nudged the door open with his hip and entered the room. “’Tis always amazing to me what ladies think is important.”

  “Not just ladies, sir. All of Polite Society casts dispersions on a woman who is viewed as being easy with her reputation. I assure you, I have no desire to shame my family by having my virtue come into question.”

  Professor McKinnon came to an abrupt stop. “Yer virtue?”

  She raised her chin. “Indeed. Now put me down and kindly lower your voice.”

  Her feet landed on the floor with a thump. To her utter humiliation, her legs threatened to give way again. She shot him a grateful smile when he extended his arm so she could hold onto it. She tried hard to ignore his grin. Did the man not take anything seriously?

  “Professor! So nice to see you.” A barreled-chested man hurried down the stairs. “Are ye in need of a room?”

  “Yes, Barton, two rooms, in fact.”

  “Aye. Yer lucky I have two rooms left. One for ye and one for the other two?” He gestured with his head toward Alice and Professor Blackwood.

  “Nay. One for me and the other fellow, and one for the ladies.”

  Sarah felt the heat rise from her toes all the way to her face at the suggestion that she and this stranger would be sharing a room. At the same time, a previously unknown feeling settled in her middle at the thought of her and this handsome professor climbing into bed together.

  Well, I’ve finally done it. I’ve managed to shock myself.

  “I’d say by the look of ye that a warm fire and one of my wife’s meat pies would help ye out.”

  “May I have a bath sent up, please?” Sarah moved away from Professor McKinnon so the innkeeper would not think there was anything between them except a stranger helping a woman in trouble.

  “Certainly, my lady. My wife will take ye to yer room and get ye settled.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I would appreciate a bath myself, Barton. If ’tis not too much trouble. I seem to have landed in a bit of mud.” Mr. McKinnon grinned at Sarah, but then turned serious. “But first ye will need to send for the magistrate. It seems the ladies here were in a carriage that went over the Manfred cliff. Killed their driver and footman.”

  “Ach. ’Tis a dangerous place on the road, for sure. I’ll have my boy go fetch him straightaway.”

  The innkeeper’s wife led them all upstairs. Sarah was never so happy to see a clean room with a nice bright fire keeping the space warm. “Alice, I’m sorry for the mess I’ve made of my clothes. I’m afraid it will take some time for you to set them to rights. We may need to stay here for a couple of days before we move on.”

  “Move on, my lady? Surely you don’t intend to continue? This is a cursed place.”

  “I do, indeed. You forget yourself, Alice. My sister lives in this ‘cursed place,’ and I had planned to see her and the new babe. That is precisely what I shall do. We’ll need some time to make other arrangements and to notify my brother of the two deaths. Since they were not regular servants, he will need to seek out their families to claim the bodies.”

  A chastened Alice eased herself down to the edge of the small cot against the wall. “Oh, my lady. I don’t know if I have the strength to carry on.”

  “Nonsense. All will be well. Now help me out of these gowns so I can prepare for my bath.” There was a slight scratching at the door. “Ah, that must be the bath now.”

  Afterward, Sarah donned a clean, dry dress the innkeeper’s wife had provided. While she’d bathed, Alice had dried her mistress’s clothing in front of the fire and cleaned herself up with the warm water in the bowl on the dresser.

  Feeling much better, Sarah sat while Alice twisted her mass of curls into a bun at the back of her neck, not bothering with letting it dry first.

  “My lady, the gentlemen await you and your maid in the dining room for supper.” Mrs. Barton arrived at their door just as Sarah and Alice were ready to proceed downstairs.

  “Why would we eat with those men?” Alice frowned. “We aren’t traveling with them.”

  “Alice, it is good manners. If they sent the invitation to us, it would be quite rude to refuse. After all, they did rescue us.”

  It was disconcerting to have a maid who had a stronger sense of propriety than she did. She and her sisters had oftentimes skirted some of the more rigid mores of Society—riding in breeches being one of them. Truth be known, if they were anywhere near London she would be more concerned herself, but they were in the wilds of Scotland where the chance of her running into anyone she knew was slight.

  Braeden and Monty stood as the ladies approached the table. “Ye are looking much better, lass.” Braeden pulled out a chair for Sarah. The smells coming from the kitchen had his mouth already watering.

  “Yes. A hot bath and clean, dry clothes make a great deal of difference in how one views the world.”

  Mrs. Barton arrived along with her two young daughters. They set bowls of some type of fragrant stew, warm bread, butter, and cheese in front of them.

  There was very little conversation while they ate, just comments on the good fare and their luck in being able to secure rooms.

  Sarah wiped her mouth on the napkin and laid it alongside her plate. “Professor McKinnon. Something has occurred to me.”

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye. And what is that, lass?”

  “Are you, by chance, a relative to Laird Duncan McKinnon of Dundas?”

  Although startled by her question, he showed no surprise. “I am. The laird is my cousin. His da and mine were brothers.”

  “Do you live near him, then?”

  “Indeed, I do. My family has been in service to the lairds for generations. My mum and da, along with my sisters, work at the castle. My brothers each have a patch of land they live on with their families. They’re sh
eep farmers. When I am home from university, Duncan allows me to stay at Dundas to have access to the library.”

  He began to squirm as Sarah continued to smile at him. What was the lass up to now? For some reason he didn’t think it would bode well for him.

  Tilting his chair backward on two legs, with a niggle of concern deepening in his belly at the lass’s expression, he asked, “Why do ye want to ken?”

  “Because, sir, it relieves my mind quite a bit.” She placed her hands in her lap and attempted to look very innocent.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “And why is that, lass?” Her innocent look didn’t fool him. He’d already decided this lass was someone of whom he should be leery. She had quite a bit of pluck, unlike most English ladies he’d met.

  “It so happens my sister, who I am on my way to visit, is married to Laird McKinnon’s friend and neighbor, Laird Liam MacBride.”

  “Is she now?” He glanced over at Monty who shrugged his shoulders. “And just why does this relieve ye?”

  “Because I will feel quite safe traveling with you the rest of the way to Bedlay Castle.” She gave him a bright smile.

  The front legs of his chair hit the floor with a thump. “What?!”

  Chapter Two

  Braeden stared at Lady Sarah openmouthed. Did this wee slip of a lass just announce she expected him to travel with her to Bedlay Castle?

  “Yer mistaken, lass. I am not traveling to Bedlay Castle.”

  “No. But you are traveling home to Dundas, correct?”

  “Aye.”

  “McKinnon lands border MacBride lands, correct?”

  He nodded slowly. Surely the lass wasn’t serious. In order for him to escort the ladies to Bedlay Castle he would have to rent a carriage, and the entire trip would take more than twice as long as he intended to be on the road.

  The letter he was waiting for might have already arrived. He’d wanted to join this particular expedition to Rome for more than two years. Most of his fellow professors thought he was crazy to even attempt to secure the post because of his age. His age. A problem he’d dealt with many times over the years.

  When the special tutor his da had arranged had told them that at thirteen years Braeden was ready for university, it had taken quite a bit of persuasion on both his and the tutor’s part to convince his parents. Too young. He’d heard it all his life. Too young to read at three years, too young to do higher level mathematics at seven years. But he’d done it, and continued on. Unusually superior intellect, his tutor had said.

  He needed this expedition to convince others that he belonged, even if he was decades younger than most in his field. He had to prove to them, as well as himself, that age did not matter when the passion for your work was as strong as his. This was not an opportunity he wanted to miss.

  Then he looked at her face and knew the decision had been made. Hope burned in her eyes. Hope and uncertainty. For, as bold as the lass was, she knew he could easily say nay. Then where would that leave her? Forced to continue on or return home with just a maid and a rented carriage. His mum would knock him over the head if he abandoned a lady and left her to the dangers of the road with no protection.

  He sighed. “Aye. I’ll travel with ye as yer escort.”

  Monty stood and slapped him on the back. “Seeing as how I’m going in the opposite direction, I wish ye well. I’m heading off to bed to get an early start in the morning.”

  Lady Sarah clapped her hands. “Wonderful. Now we must make plans.” She tapped her chin with a slim finger. “First we must rent a carriage. And, of course, I’ll need a few days to get my clothing in order. Oh, and we’ll need to see if my trunk is still where we left it. No matter if it isn’t. There must be a shop nearby where I can purchase a few…” She stopped and stared at him. “What?”

  Mouth agape, he regarded her with a combination of awe and fear. The wee lass brought to mind a small bird from America he’d read about. She was like the hummingbird, flitting about in her thoughts, giving orders, making decisions, and generally taking charge of a journey for which he should have control.

  “Wait just a minute, here, lass. As for a carriage, that would be for me to secure. Clothing doesn’t matter. As long as ye have something to cover yerself with, we need not worry about any additional items. And we are naught settling ourselves in here for a couple of days. I am expecting a very important letter to arrive at my home, and I intend to be there when it does.”

  She picked up on the one thing apparently dearest to her heart. “I will not continue on this journey without sufficient clothing.”

  He leaned back in his chair, eying her speculatively. “That depends on what ye deem ‘sufficient.’ To me, ye look fine right now.” Aye, she did. Her eyes flashed, her chin was thrust forward, and her cheeks flushed bright red. Right now he wanted to taste those plump lips.

  Merely to keep her from talking, of course.

  “Fine?” She looked down at the frock. “This belongs to the innkeeper’s daughter.”

  “I’ll offer a coin to Mrs. Barton for the garment, and we’ll be on our way.”

  She leaned toward him. If he didn’t think she would bop him on the head, he would have laughed to see such a wee thing all worked up. “I will not leave here without enough clothes for at least a few days.”

  He shifted in his chair until he was almost nose-to-nose with the hummingbird. “We will leave here when I am sure we have a carriage sturdy enough and horses hardy enough to last the journey.”

  She glared at him. He glared back.

  Sarah turned so Alice could unfasten the gown Mrs. Barton had lent her. “Honestly, I cannot understand that man. How can he possibly think we would be ready to continue on to Bedlay Castle without clothing? Never in my life have I met a more stubborn man.”

  Alice’s nimble fingers worked the hooks and eyes. “My lady, perhaps we should be grateful that he’s agreed to accompany us to your sister’s home.”

  She sighed as the dress slid down her body, leaving her in only her chemise, since her stays were still wet. “I know, Alice, and believe me, I am grateful.” She slipped into the worn linsey-woolsey nightgown, also borrowed from Mrs. Barton, and sighed. “He is handsome, though. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, my lady. Indeed he is a handsome chap.”

  “How can he be a professor at university? Professor Blackwood appears about twenty years older than McKinnon, but he didn’t dispute him being a professor.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.” Alice gathered up the clothes that had dropped to the floor. “I will see what I can do about the gowns that you managed to bring with you.” She walked to where the garments were laid out in front of the fire. “Most of them are dry.”

  Sarah waved her hand. “Don’t bother with them now, Alice. Even if the dear professor insists on leaving as soon as he has secured a carriage, that will still take some time. You can deal with the clothing in the morning. Surely you are as tired as I am?”

  “I am a bit worn.” The maid eyed the small cot that had been set up in the corner of the room for her use.

  “Then we will turn in, so I am ready to do battle in the morning with our traveling companion. Good night.”

  “Good night, my lady.”

  They both climbed into their respective beds. Sarah blew out the candle. She rolled onto her back and tucked her hands beneath her head. Immediately her thoughts turned to Professor Braeden McKinnon. Laird Duncan McKinnon’s cousin.

  She had been planning on traveling to the Highlands with Sybil when her twin had attended Laird McKinnon’s wedding to their close friend, Lady Margaret. But an illness had kept Sarah from going. They’d all been surprised when Sybil sent a letter a few weeks later saying she was leaving Margaret’s new home to spend time at Laird Liam MacBride’s castle a short distance away.

  Her brother, Drake, had not been happy with that turn of events, and had immediately planned a trip to fetch her back. He had been somewhat calmed when he received a letter f
rom Liam, assuring him that Sybil would be well chaperoned, and he would provide her with safe passage home.

  A second letter from Laird McKinnon, verifying Liam was an honorable man and would take good care of Sarah, had calmed her brother even further, although he had still threatened to travel to Scotland.

  Like Sybil, Sarah had a distrust of Scottish men. From what she’d heard over the years, Scots were more interested in brawling, women, and drink. However, with McKinnon being so young and a professor, he couldn’t have spent many years pursuing those nefarious activities.

  She rolled over and hugged the pillow. What disturbed her most was her reaction to his touch. This was certainly the wrong time to become enamored with a man. She had her life planned out at least for the next few years. The encumbrance of a beau would not do.

  With her first book about ready for publication, and with her publisher so certain it would be well received, she didn’t need the distraction of a man, no matter how handsome he was.

  Since she’d spent many hours behind closed doors filling up pages of foolscap with her stories, it had been easy to discourage suitors during her Seasons, because none of them had affected her the way Professor McKinnon did. It would certainly be in her best interests to keep the man as far from her as possible during this trip. She grinned at the memory of his surprise at how she’d taken control of the travel plans. He certainly hadn’t appreciated her forwardness.

  Yet, with his handsome visage and sense of humor, this could be a very pleasant trip. It had been a while since she was able to cross swords with someone who could keep up with her. As long as there was no more touching. None. At all.

  Ever.

  Despite his best efforts, it had taken Braeden two days to secure a sturdy carriage and horses he felt were robust enough to provide them with safe passage. During that time, he’d met on several occasions with Lady Sarah to finalize plans. The lass would make Boney a fine general. She had lists and demands and suggestions galore.

  During one particularly trying session, he’d stuck a piece of bread into her mouth to get her to stop talking. He would have actually preferred to place his lips where her mouth was busy chattering, but that would not be a good idea. Instead of berating him as any other English lady would, she’d merely taken the bit of bread from her mouth, smiled, and said, “Thank you. I am quite hungry.”