Alec Mackenzie's Art of Seduction (Mackenzies & McBrides #9)(85)



“Are you mad?” she shouted at him. “I can’t possibly—”

Edward and Colonel Kell continued to wrestle. The colonel rolled on top of Edward, and now the pistol pointed at Edward’s head.

The man on the first horse leapt from it, tackling the colonel. Edward grabbed at the pistol, but Colonel Kell held on to it as he clawed and kicked and fought both Edward and the very dirty and battered man who’d landed on him. The three men tumbled and tangled, the battered man gaining his feet again, just as the pistol went off.

“Edward!” Celia screamed.

Alec slid off his horse. He caught Celia as she rushed to her brother, moved her gently aside, and ran to Edward himself.

Alec and Will rolled Colonel Kell from Edward. Edward grunted and pushed the colonel away, coming to his feet, his wig hanging from the epaulette on his shoulder. His white cravat was now scarlet, but Edward stood upright, breathing hard.

“Bloody hell,” Edward said. “Bloody, bloody hell.”

Colonel Kell, the man who’d violated Lady Flora’s daughter, who’d caused Sophia’s death and Lady Flora so much grief, was dead, a bullet from his own pistol in his chest. Lady Flora now had her revenge.

The Highlander who seized Uncle Perry by the collar and hauled him up was tall and grim, and had eyes so like Alec’s Celia knew at once who he was. Those eyes held impossible fury as he shook Uncle Perry until Perry woke with a gasp.

Uncle Perry gazed at Will for a stunned second, and then a look of terrible fear came over him. “No,” he croaked, before Will Mackenzie’s fist caught him on the side of the face once, twice, thrice.

Again and again, Will hit him, until Uncle Perry’s face was covered with blood, and he collapsed once more into a senseless heap.

Will let him drop, kicked the man’s ribs, spat on him, and turned to Alec, fierce satisfaction in his eyes.

“There. Now, I’m ready.”

Will flowed up onto the horse and turned it, nudging it forward. Alec once more held out his hand to Celia.

The duke gave Celia a look of such distress that her breath caught. She went to her father and took his hands.

“I’ll come back, Papa. One day, I promise. But Alec is my husband. I pledged myself to him with all my heart—and I love him.” There, she’d said it.

The duke’s eyes moistened. “But how will you live? He’s an outlaw …”

“I will provide well for her,” Alec said. “My real name is Alec Mackenzie, and my father’s a duke. I have a fair bit put by, all safe in France and the Low Countries. She’ll live like a princess. My da’ and brothers would let me do nothing less.”

The duke swallowed, blinking back his tears. “Go then, my dear. I’ll deal with your Uncle Perry. And your mother.”

He lifted his chin as he said this last. The worm had turned, Celia decided. She knew her father was stronger than he let on—a learned man, preferring his books to people, he nonetheless had power, and he knew it. To keep the peace he let others do as they wished, but Celia had a feeling that peace had come to an end. She almost wished she could see her mother’s face when the duke confronted her.

Almost. Alec was her husband, and she was leaving with him.

“I’ll look after him,” Edward told her. He caught Celia in an embrace. “Be well, sweet sister.”

“Thank you.” Celia kissed his cheek. She turned from him and seized her father’s hands again, pressing a kiss to each one. “I love you, Papa. Come and visit me in Paris.”

As usual, her father looked embarrassed at her open display, but his smile was warm. “I will be there, daughter.”

And she knew he would be.

“Come along, my love.” Alec guided her with his arm around her waist to the horse. “Before my impatient brother drags me off by the hair. Ah, here he is.”

Will had galloped back, a pistol gripped in his hand. “Time and tide, brother.”

Alec swung onto the horse. He reached down for Celia, who had to kick off her brocaded slippers to put her foot on his boot and let him haul her upward. Her skirts billowed, making the horse dance. She wished she’d been able to change to the more sensible clothes she’d planned to wear to the boat, but it couldn’t be helped.

“What are you doing?” Will demanded as the horses sprang forward. “Carrying her off, are ye? Isn’t that going a bit too far?”

“She’s my wife, ye ass. I’m not leaving her behind.”

Will whirled around, barely missing a low-hanging limb. “Your wife?” His eyes widened as he took in Celia, Alec holding her close. “Good Lord, you’re quick off the mark. It’s only been a month since I last saw you. When did you find time to get yourself married?”

“’Tis a fine tale,” Alec said. “One to tell to while away a sea voyage. If we ever get there.”

Will gave Celia one last amazed look, then he turned and urged his horse onward.

Alec laughed as he followed, holding Celia rock steady on the saddle. She relaxed back into him, curling her stockinged feet in the cool air, knowing he’d never let her fall.





Chapter 28





Gair’s ship, waiting in the Thames, was small and ramshackle, but Celia, who’d voyaged to and from the Continent several times in her life, recognized it as a seaworthy craft. The ropes were firm, the sails whole, and the boards of the ship, while not polished like a naval craft’s or a grand merchantman’s, held no holes or rot.

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