Maclean Curse - How To Abduct A Highland Lord Part 23

He blinked. "Of course. Someone will be by soon, and-"

"No, I need onenow," she said breathlessly. "Should we go to one of the footmen and fetch one?"

"They will bring it here. Wait a moment." He lifted a finger, catching the attention of a footman, who

obediently rushed to their side. Campbell took two shimmering gla.s.ses of champagne from the tray and handed one to her. "Here you are, my lady. To what shall we drink?"

Sparkling bubbles rolled up the side of her gla.s.s, gathering on the surface. The candlelight reflectedthrough the gla.s.s. "It's almost too pretty to sip." Campbell's gaze darkened. "All the more reason to do it quickly."

Fiona glanced past him to Jack.

He paused, his own gla.s.s halfway to his mouth, and frowned when he saw the champagne in Fiona's hand.

Never breaking his gaze, she lifted the gla.s.s. And drank it all. At first nothing happened, but then a slow, lazy flush moved up her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her neck. "Oh, my!" Jack's brows lowered. Lucinda, realizing she'd lost his attention, glowered at Fiona. Campbell laughed. "I see you enjoy champagne." "I love it." She tossed her head. "In fact, I will have another gla.s.s." Jack's frown grew as Campbell ordered another gla.s.s. Fiona took the second gla.s.s and looked directly at him. His expression hardened; he lifted his gla.s.s and tossed back his drink, every move a challenge. Fiona steeled herself, then lifted her gla.s.s to Campbell. "Here's to the end." "The end of what?" "Of everything." She lifted the gla.s.s and quaffed it as she'd done before, but this time, the champagne refused to go the way it was intended. She sputtered a moment, then sneezed so violently two pins

dropped from her hair, a thick tress falling to one shoulder. Campbell laughed. "My dear, I hope you don't take this wrong, but champagne does not seem to be your drink."

"I am not going to drink ratafia. Old women drink that." The two gla.s.ses of champagne so close together were taking their toll; she felt frothy and light and completely free. Which she was, thanks to Jack Kincaid. She was unfettered, free, and d.a.m.ned happy. She lifted her empty gla.s.s. "Another toast!"

Campbell laughed and gestured to a footman, saying something to him in a low voice. "There," he said when the footman had nodded and scurried off. "I believe I have solved your problem." "I don't have a problem," Fiona said, tossing more markers onto the table without caring where they landed.

Campbell took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I never argue with a beautiful woman."

Fiona peeked past him to Jack. His face was like a thundercloud. Good. It was time someone besides her made a little rain. She turned back to Campbell and smiled at him sweetly. "I appreciate your help, but please do not think this means I will allow you any liberties."

He turned her hand over and peeled the glove from her wrist, then placed a kiss on her pulse. "I wouldn' t dream of it, my dear. If you want me to stop, just say the word."

The footman returned, a single gla.s.s on his tray. Campbell handed it to Fiona, who sniffed it gingerly. The gla.s.s was warm; the scent of cloves and cinnamon and a dozen other delicious spices curled through the steam that rose over the cup.

Fiona took a sip, smiling as the taste caressed her tongue. "This is delicious!"

Campbell smiled. "Drink it up. Then we will dance."

She did as he said, setting the cup down with athunk . "I am ready."

"Good. I promise to hold you much too tightly and make it seem as if I'm whispering sweet naughties in

your ear."

"Just do not whisper real ones, for I would laugh, and that would not help matters." She was almost giggling now, and she had no reason to. "What was in that drink?"

"A little of this. A little of that." His eyes darkened. "Did you like it?"

"Oh, yes. Wayyyyy too much." She pushed her markers to Lord Penult-Mead. "I think I am through."

She turned to Campbell and started to stand but fell back into her chair.

He swiftly caught her elbow and pulled her hard against his chest. "Easy, my sweet! You don't want to fall." Fiona realized her chest was pressed against his, his hands holding her intimately. She pushed away from him and smoothed her gown, aware that though many watched, no one seemed shocked. All behavior was accepted and expected here. Of course, that would not keep anyone from gossiping about what they saw. Fiona put a hand on a nearby chair and forced a smile at Campbell. "Shall we dance?" "Of course." "Good. Just try not to step on my new shoes." With that unromantic rejoinder, Fiona allowed Campbell to escort her to the dance floor.

They never made it.

One moment, they were walking out of the card room. The next, Jack was standing before them, his face furious.

"Ah," Campbell said smoothly. "I wondered how long it would take you to reclaim your wife." "She is going home now." Fiona snorted inelegantly."She is doing no such thing." Jack's gaze burned into hers. "You don't know what you are doing; you've had too much to drink." "Nonsense! I only had two gla.s.ses of champagne"-she held up three fingers-"and one gla.s.s of...what was that?"

"Rum punch," Campbell said succinctly.

Jack's face darkened. He grasped her arm and pulled her forward.

She stumbled against his chest, and he caught her firmly.

"No," she said, pushing away from him. "I am going to dance with Campbell, and he is going to whisper

to me and not step on my new shoes."

"Like h.e.l.l," Jack said. He pulled back his fist and smashed it into Campbell's face. Campbell dropped to

the floor like a lead weight.

"Jack!" Lucinda rushed forward. "What are you-"

Jack ignored her. He stooped and flung Fiona over his shoulder, and turned for the door.

"Jack!" Fiona's hair fell completely out of its pins, dropping over her like a curtain. "You're h.e.l.l on a woman's hair, Kincaid! I hope you know that!"

Jack just walked out the front door and into the rain to the carriage, ignoring the faces that stared out the windows at them.

Chapter Eighteen.

I've often thought it unfair that women are expected to stay at home when there's a fight to be won. If a

woman has the strength to bear a child, she can swing a sword as well as any man.

OLDWOMANNORA OFLOCHLOMOND.

TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT.

"May I take your hat, my lord?"

Gregor tossed it to Devonsgate. "Is my sister ready yet? We are to ride this morning."

The butler handed the hat to a waiting footman. "I believe her ladyship will be down in a minute."

Somewhere upstairs, a door slammed and someone stomped across a floor.

Devonsgate looked stoically ahead.

Silence reigned for a moment, then the sound of raised voices-one female, one male-lifted in the distance.

The front door rattled, wind buffeting the heavy panel until it shook.

Devonsgate frowned. "My, but the weather has been abrupt lately."

Gregor smelled the scent of lilacs, faint but unmistakable. He sent a hard glance at Devonsgate. "What's that jacka.s.s done now?"

The butler returned his look blandly. "I am sure I don't take your meaning, sir." The sound of voices raised in discord once again floated downstairs. "It seems as if the storm may be inside this time," Gregor said. Devonsgate sighed and nodded in agreement, then caught himself. "I do not know what you're speaking about," he said stiffly.

Upstairs, the door slammed again, voices were raised, and then came the stomp of booted feet on the

stairs.

Jack stopped when he saw Gregor in the foyer.

Gregor rocked back on his heels. "Sounds as if you're having a rather windy morning."

Jack eyed Gregor a long moment and then continued down the stairs, past Gregor, and went into his

library, slamming the door behind him.

Gregor strode across to open it, his large form filling the entryway. "What's going on, Kincaid?"

Jack dropped into the chair behind his desk and pulled his papers forward. "Ask your sister."

"I plan to. I thought you might want your side of the story to be heard, too."

"I don't need anyone to hear my side, least of all you and your brother. In fact"-Jack's eyes flashed-