Alec Mackenzie's Art of Seduction (Mackenzies & McBrides #9)(50)

The man who waited to hand Celia into the boat was muffled to his ears, only his dark eyes showing between scarf and hat. Alec steadied her as she stepped into the boat, then leapt down after her, landing with easy grace.

Padruig, who’d descended from the coach with them, rested his hand on the hilt of a long knife that hung from his belt. “I’ll fend off pursuit, shall I?”

“There won’t be any pursuit,” Alec said. “Not for a time. Come with us—I’ll need a witness.”

Padruig shrugged and stepped into the boat with the effortlessness of a man long used to embarking watercraft. “I’m t’ make sure ye get to Gair. He wants the rest of that fare.”

“He has no need to worry.” Alec guided Celia into the tiny deckhouse, which cut the chill wind on the river. “But don’t kill anyone while you’re getting us there. I don’t need another mess to clear up.”

Padruig followed them in and shut the door, leaving the boats’ two sailors outside. “Like that Lowlander?”

“Do you know who did for him?” Alec asked, sitting on a bench before the small stove in the middle of the cabin and holding his hands to the fire’s warmth. The cabin was filled with junk—nets, fishing poles, crates, bottles, jugs, sacks, wire, and various things Celia couldn’t make out in the shadows.

Padruig folded his arms and leaned against the door, blocking the way in—or out. “He had enemies. Could have been any of them.”

“But you know which ones,” Alec stated.

“Aye, a few men who thought he knew too much. They’ll tell no tales.” He flicked a glance to Celia, his one eye glittering. Perhaps he thought he needed to make certain she’d tell no tales.

Celia shivered as she let Alec tug her down next to him, though she wasn’t certain about the cleanliness of the bench. “Never worry, lass,” Alec rumbled. “I’ll look after ye now.”

Padruig snorted, then a draft blew in as he opened the door and faded outside, slamming it behind him.

Celia leaned into the warmth that was Alec, and he wrapped his arm around her. “I am trying to feel alarm that you are abducting me,” she said. “I can’t bring myself to. But perhaps I am in shock.”

Alec sent her a grin. “That’s because I’m not much good at abducting. The Runt is the master. The lass he abducted never realized it, and now she’s in his house in Paris, busily telling the lot of us what to do while she waits for their babe to be born. Mal’s the one for intrigue, as is Will.” Pain flickered across his face. “Me, I’m a painter, trying to provide for my daughter and keep the rest of my good-for-nothing family out of trouble.”

Celia nestled into him. “Does that mean you are abducting me or you aren’t?”

“Means I’m giving you the choice.” Alec raised her silk-gloved hand and kissed it. “I can take you to my friends, trusted ones, who will keep you safe. Ye’d never have to see me again. Or …”

“Or I can marry you,” Celia said.





Chapter 16





Alec froze with her hand in his, his eyes fixed on her. His chest rose with his breath, the red coat that was the symbol of his enemies moving.

“Or ye can marry me, I was about to say.” The words were a growl. “Give a man a chance to speak.”

Celia inhaled damp air, warmed by the tiny stove. “I have a small legacy that can help us live—nothing very grand, but it will feed us, and you can continue to give lessons. My money is in a trust, entirely mine, untouchable by my mother or father …”

Alec stilled her babbling with a finger on her lips. “I’m not doing it for your legacy. I want to keep you from your mum’s machinations forever. Even if your dad has me killed for it, you’ll be my widow and looked after by my da’ and brothers.”

Celia kissed his finger. “Don’t say things like that. All my life I’ve watched my mother and her friends, including Lady Flora, use marriage as a weapon, or at least a tool to obtain what they want. I say I turn the tables on them, use it as my own weapon.”

Anger flared in Alec’s eyes. But of course—Celia had just declared she’d use him and marriage to him to thwart her enemies. What gentleman wanted to hear a woman say that?

The anger vanished with the suddenness of a slap and Alec burst out laughing. His head went back, and his booming laughter filled the room.

“What a woman!” His eyes glowed with golden fire. “I’ll show ye off to my family with pride, I will. Yes, I’ll marry ye, lass. To hell with the lot of them.”

“Good.” Celia stuck out her hand. “Seal the bargain?”

Alec pushed the offered hand aside. “I’ve a better way to seal it than that.”

He scooped her up to him and kissed her with a strength that took her breath away. Celia sank into him, sliding her hands under the warmth of his hair. His tam slid off to fall among the detritus, but Alec didn’t seem to notice.

He held Celia against him, his arms firm on her back, his body a bulwark in the dark, a solid rock in the swirling maelstrom of her life. Celia kissed him as the boat listed with the current, the strength of the Thames fighting it.

When Alec raised his head, his eyes were dark in the red glow of the stove, the look in them one of triumph, but also one of pain.