Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(102)

Elizabeth Campbell had no right to tell her what to do. “What you are suggesting is wrong. You know nothing of what you speak.”

Lizzie put her hand over her stomach, an instinctive gesture of protection. “Actually I think I do. This babe is not yet born and already I know there is very little I would not do to protect my child. I'm sure you felt the same.” Her voice grew quiet. “But Duncan has a right to know.”

He'd given up that right when he left her.

Or had he?

Deep in her heart Jeannie knew that if they were to have a chance, eventually she must tell him.

Elizabeth shifted her gaze, seeming to realize she'd said enough. “Did you wish to see me for something?”

It took Jeannie a moment for her emotions to subside before she could compose herself to respond. She forced Dougall from her mind and said, “I was hoping I might get your help in persuading Duncan to make a quick journey to Islay. He'd remembered something your father said—”

“But he's going tomorrow. It was decided last night. I'd assumed he'd told you.” Lizzie looked embarrassed. “Though it was late, perhaps you haven't seen him.”

Apparently Elizabeth had correctly assumed their sleeping arrangements and was now wondering if she'd made a mistake.

She hadn't.

Jeannie's mouth drew in a tight line. The wretch.

“I'm sure he was intending to tell you,” Lizzie offered.

Aye, probably after another night of her trying to “persuade” him when it was too late for her to accompany him. Her eyes narrowed on the imposing man below in the courtyard. “I'll just bet he was,” she said. She excused herself and marched purposefully down the stairs. If he thought he could exclude her, he was quite mistaken.

The practice had just broken up for the morning when she exited the keep and made her way down the forestairs. Duncan was speaking with Leif and Conall with his back toward her and didn't see her approach. His men took one look at her and made their quick excuses right before she tapped Duncan on the shoulder.

He turned, his face instinctively breaking into a smile when he saw her.

For a moment she forgot her anger under the powerful onslaught of the devastatingly handsome man standing before her. His black hair glistened in the sun, his blue eyes sparkled like the sea, his teeth flashed white behind a wide grin that made him appear younger than his years. She could smell the heat of his practice on his skin. The crisp, harshly masculine scent called to her on a dark primal level. There was just something irresistible about a heavily muscled, well-worked warrior.

Furious that she could be so easily distracted, she gritted her teeth and glared up at him. At times like this she really wished he wasn't so tall. It was difficult to be intimidating with your neck cranked back. “I hear you've decided to take a wee journey.”

He had the good grace to wince. “Ach, you heard about that did you?”

“Didn't you think to tell me?”

His grin grew wider, wickedly wider. His eyes slid down the length of her, lingering in all the warm spots, then returned to her mouth. She could almost see what he was thinking, what he was remembering, and her cheeks flushed. “Now why would I want to do that? I was having too much fun with your methods of persuasion.”

Her eyes narrowed on the grinning lout. “You are a wicked man.”

“I'll show you just how wicked later tonight.”

Her skin tingled with anticipation—in spite of her intention to not allow him to affect her. It was a foolish intention, he always affected her. She drew up her spine. “I'm afraid I will be busy this evening.”

His smile fell. “Busy?”

“Yes.” She smiled sweetly. “Packing for our journey.”

His jaw hardened. “You're not going.”

Determined green met equally determined blue. “And how do you intend to stop me? You've no authority over me, Duncan Campbell.”

His gaze narrowed, the tic beneath his jaw jumped to life. “Do not challenge me on this, Jeannie. It's too dangerous.”

“Unless they are searching the waterways, I don't see why. No one would think to look for you on Islay.”

His lips fell into a thin line, not pleased by her argument—because it was true. They could embark directly from Castleswene and land right at Dunyvaig, the MacDonald's stronghold on the eastern seaboard of Islay. They never need even sit upon a horse.

“I don't want you involved,” he said.

“I am involved. If my father had anything to do with what happened to you, it was partially because of me. With a good wind we could be there in a few hours. Besides, you can't deny I helped you before.”

“The same trick will not work twice. No doubt your friend the captain has discovered his mistake.”

Jeannie placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Duncan. This was my idea. I want to go to see it through. I want to be there with you.” Tears burned behind her eyes. “I can't sit and wait and worry about what is happening.” Her eyes met his. “You wanted my help, now you have it. Don't turn me away.”

She held her breath, watching his face. His jaw flexed. “If there is trouble you will say I abducted you. What is one more crime when I've already been convicted of treason?”

She bit back a smile. She would do no such thing. She would defend him with her last breath.