Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (42 page)

From across the small clearing, Mercedes met Daniel’s gaze, beseeching him not to
give in. As soon as he relinquished his gun, Lang would kill him. She knew it as surely
as she knew the hopelessness of their situation. She would rather go with Lang than
see Daniel murdered. Nothing was worth his death, not even her own life.

“I would hate to have to kill her,” Lang mused, when Daniel still did not comply,
“but I will, if I must. The prince won’t need to know she’s not coming back.”

“Don’t, Daniel,” she said. “It’s a trick.”

But slowly, he began lowering his gun. “I know, lass, but I can no’ let him hurt you.
I love you too much.”

Tears slid from her eyes. “I love you too.”

“Bah,” Lang spat. “Enough. The gun, now!”

Daniel leaned down and laid his pistol on the forest floor.

She sagged inside Lang’s hold, her chest aching with misery.

But Lang was too busy gloating to notice, his attention wavering enough that he began
to lower the gun away from her head.

Suddenly, almost too fast for her to see, Daniel scooped up a fistful of dirt and
leaves, and pelted forward, a bone-chilling yell issuing from his throat that would
have frightened the devil himself.

Up came his hand and he flung the debris directly into Lang’s face, careful to avoid
Mercedes as she instinctively turned her head aside. Lang reeled backward, letting
her go as he clawed at his eyes. By then, Daniel was on him, fighting for possession
of the gun.

She raced backward, separating herself from the battling men. But even as her heart
pounded with fear, she looked around for Daniel’s abandoned weapon and hurried over
to it. Quickly, she picked it up.

But she realized that she had no need of it, especially when she heard a sickening
crunch as Daniel bent Lang’s wrist back at an impossible angle. The other man screamed,
the gun falling from his broken hand. Daniel kicked the pistol away, then pulled Lang
around by his collar, lifted up his fist, and punched him square in the face. Lang
blinked, blood gushing from his nose, as he crumpled to the ground.

“And that,” Daniel said, as he stood over the defeated man, “is for trying to hurt
my wife. It’s the last time you ever will again.” Turning, he motioned toward the
dog. “Robbie,” he called. “Guard.”

The dog trotted forward and stood over Lang, his teeth peeled back in a menacing growl.
Mercedes was just relieved to see that the dog was all right, except for a few bruises.

Daniel strode to her and reached out to gently pry the gun from her cold fingers.
Then he pulled her tight, holding her against the solid warmth of his chest as if
he couldn’t bear to let her go ever again.

“What are you doing here?” she said softly. “I thought you would be halfway to Scotland
by now.”

“I could no’ bring myself to leave.” He brushed his lips over her cheek and forehead.
“No matter what I said the day we parted, I guess I could no’ let you go.”

Tilting back her head, she gazed into his green eyes. “Oh, Daniel, I’ve been so unhappy
without you. It’s been pure hell.”

He looked surprised at her language, but nodded. “Aye, love, and so it has. What are
we to do, then?”

“Stay married,” she told him emphatically. “I refuse to divorce you no matter what
you or my father may insist upon. If you leave, I’ll just follow, to Skye or anywhere
else you may go.”

“Mercedes—” he murmured, running his fingertips over her cheek.

“No. You listen, Daniel James MacKinnon. I don’t care how much money you have or whether
you have a title. I don’t care where we live, so long as we’re together. You think
I need a palace, but I do not. Some of my happiest days were spent with you in the
Camerons’ little hut. If that’s all you can manage, then so be it.”

He quirked a brow. “I think I can do a fair bit better than a hut.”

“Well, whatever you can afford, it will be enough for me. All I care about is being
your wife. I love you and that’s the only thing that matters. I can do without a great
many things, contrary to your opinion, but the one thing I cannot do without is you.”

His fingers moved over her cheek again, a light suddenly gleaming in his eyes.

“Try all you like,” she told him, “but you shall not be rid of me. You told Lang that
you loved me. Do you?”

“Aye, of course I love you. More than you can possibly know.”

“Then all the rest will fall into place. Is that understood, Major?”

His mouth turned up in a smile. “Aye, Your Highness. I find that I am yours to command.”

“Then I command you to kiss me, my dearest, most wonderful love.”

And he did, his lips moving over hers with a sweet, passionate ardor and a magic whose
power would never fade in all the years to come. Tightening her arms around his waist,
she gave herself over to the joy, knowing that nothing would separate them again.
She simply would not let it, no matter her father’s prejudices or Daniel’s own stubborn
Scottish pride.

Closing her eyes, she kissed him harder, her world and all its happiness suddenly
within her grasp. Love lightened her heart, vanquishing all the dark places, all the
fear and emptiness that had filled her such a short time before.

In Daniel’s arms, she was always safe. And now she would always be loved.

“Ahem,” came an amused voice. “My apologies for intruding, but the two of you really
ought to save anything more for later, when you’re alone. We came to help, although
from the looks of things, you have matters well in hand.”

She and Daniel broke apart and looked over to find Nick standing not far away. But
in addition to Nick, there were a number of uniformed men—her father’s guard—and finally,
her father.

The prince had his arms folded over his chest, a scowl on his face as he observed
them. “Mercedes, are you all right?” he asked gruffly.

“I am now, because of Daniel. He saved me.”

“Actually, she did a fine job of saving herself. She’d escaped before I even came
on the scene.”

“But I wouldn’t have made it out safely without you.”

“Maybe, maybe no’.”

She shared a smile with him and slipped her hand inside his.

Daniel squeezed it back, hard. “Your Royal Highness,” he said, addressing her father.
“Mercedes and I have talked and we’ll no’ be getting a divorce after all.”

“Papa, I know you’re opposed to our marriage, but I love him. He loves me, and we
will not be parted. I hope you will find a way to give us your blessing, but if not,
then that will be your choice. One for which I shall be very sorry.”

The prince studied them for a long moment, his scowl deepening; then he sighed. “Oh,
very well, you have my consent for what it’s worth given the fact that you’re ready
to disobey me regardless. But I’ll not be parted from you, Mercedes. I’ve been parted
from you too long with you away at school. I will not have you permanently estranged.”

“Oh, Papa!” Her heart brimming with joy, she rushed forward into his welcoming arms.
“Thank you. Thank you for this.”

Her father looked over at Daniel. “You may not be who I would have chosen for her,
but you’re a good man. I’ve had the opportunity to observe you these past few days,
and there is much to admire. Besides, she loves you. I’ve never seen anyone pine so
for a man.”

“I pined as well, while we were apart. I will no’ do it again.”

Walking forward, he extended his hand.

The prince took it, and they shook, man to man.

“We shall discuss the terms of her dowry once we return to London,” her father said,
setting her gently aside. “But first we need to put these criminals where they will
be certain not to cause any further trouble.”

“Agreed,” Daniel said. “As for the dowry, I canna let you—”

“You can. But we will not talk of it here.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened briefly, but he nodded with acceptance. “As you like, Your
Royal Highness.”

The prince turned, one of his advisers at his side, and the two men strode away. Meanwhile,
the guards hoisted Lang to his feet, his broken wrist cradled against his chest, his
shirt stained with blood. They led him to a waiting coach, surrounded by heavily armed
guards.

Mercedes went to Daniel and leaned against him. He pulled her close to his side.

Nick smiled. “Emma and Ariadne will be ecstatic, not only at your safe return but
at the restoration of your marriage. I wish you both every happiness.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said, “we appreciate your good tidings. But Mercedes and I doona
need them after everything we’ve been through. No matter what lies ahead, we’ll be
happy, won’t we, lass?”

“Aye, my braw lad,” she said in what she thought was a fair Scottish accent. “Both
now and always.”

August 1816
London

M
ercedes lounged on the divan in her pink silk dressing gown and watched Daniel shave,
the delicious scents of clean linens and finely milled oatmeal soap lingering in the
air.

She’d teased him when he’d chosen the soap at a London shop, but he’d given her a
stern look and said, “A Scot can ne’er go amiss with oats, either in the sowing of
them, the eating of them, or in this case, the washing.”

She smiled now as she remembered and settled more comfortably against the pillows,
enjoying the play of muscles in his naked back and arms as he guided the razor over
his face. She also never tired of the way his legs and buttocks looked in his drawers.
Truly, she’d long ago decided, it was a shame he had to wear clothes at all.

Loitering in his dressing room each morning had become one of her favorite pastimes
in the three weeks that had passed since her kidnapping and the events in Epping Forest.
But all that was behind her now, and even though it was not
forgotten, at least she no longer had to worry about sleepless nights—or not the ones
caused by nightmares anyway.

Actually, the only thing that gave her sleepless nights now was Daniel himself, who
had proved to have a thorough and absolutely voracious appetite when it came to making
love. She went to sleep with him inside her and usually awakened the same way—and
she couldn’t recall ever being happier in her life. Each new day seemed better than
the last.

And shortly, they would be departing for their new life in Scotland. She would miss
her friends—who had talked both her and Daniel into remaining with them at Lyndhurst
House for a while—and her father, who had departed for Alden only last week with orders
to present her new husband at the palace that autumn.

But for now they were going to Skye.

Daniel had sent word to the caretakers of his family home to make any necessary repairs
and give the house an energetic cleaning.

“It may no’ be a castle,” he’d told her, “but I want you to feel comfortable and not
miss your home.”

“From now on, Skye is my home and I shall love it,” she’d said, cradling his face
in her hands. “I have no worries and shall have no regrets.”

“Aye, of course no’.”

And then she would kiss him and he would soon forget all about such talk.

Even so, she knew he fretted every once in a while when he thought she didn’t see,
concerned that she would be disappointed with what he could provide, no matter how
often she assured him otherwise. But she knew he loved her—deeply and with true devotion—and
that he would never try to separate himself from her again.

Then again, there was the marriage settlement he’d received from her father, negotiated
at great pains on both men’s parts. If Daniel would only agree to use her dowry money,
they could live anywhere or in any home they chose; her father had been that generous.
But the money, and all it
represented, stung Daniel’s pride and so she had readily agreed that the majority
of the funds would be put in trust for their children. As she’d known, Daniel could
not argue with that.

And honestly, strange as it might seem, she was rather looking forward to living in
a modest house. She only hoped there would be room for her wardrobe, which she had
amply replenished during her time here in Town. Clothes were, as Ariadne and Emma
could attest, one of her great weaknesses. She’d even ordered some tartan plaid gowns
and sashes, and a set of fine wool shawls that she could wear in the coming winter.

If her suspicions proved correct, she would have even greater need for warm dresses
that could be let out in the months to come. She’d thought little of being sick during
her kidnapping ordeal, attributing her illness to the drugs they had used to subdue
her. But for several mornings now, she had been taken ill, only to inexplicably recover
her appetite as the day wore on. And her monthly was late and she’d never been late
before.

She’d been putting off telling Daniel, since she wanted to be sure first. But she
was virtually certain that come spring they would be welcoming a new MacKinnon into
the world.

She smiled drowsily and stroked a hand over her stomach, daydreaming.

“What’s that look on your face, lass?” Daniel asked as he swished his razor clean
in the basin, then turned, drying his smooth-shaven face with a towel. He tossed the
towel aside and strode forward.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about last night.”

Last night, they had indulged in a particularly memorable bout of lovemaking that
involved the honey her maid had brought up with her bedtime tea. The deeply sensual
experience had left her tingling with delight for hours afterward.

He sat down next to her so they were hip to hip and bent to kiss her, his tongue sweeping
into her mouth in exactly the way she liked best. She moaned softly and tangled her
fingers in his hair.

A while passed before either of them could speak.

He stood, adjusting his drawers, while she brushed her tumbled nightclothes back over
her legs.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning,” he said, running his hand over her
tousled hair. “No nausea?”

Did he suspect, then, too?