The Highlander's Hope - A Contemporary Highland Romance (4 page)

Cat picked up the papers and flipped through them, her eyes scanning the pages
, her anger building with each word.  “Are you kidding?  You want me to sign a confidentiality agreement?  You must think awfully highly of yourself.”

“What I do think is that the tabloids are happy to get their hands on anything at all, and will pay handsomely for it.  So you can either sign, or leave.  The choice is yours.”
 

“You’
re awfully good at ultimatums.” She glared at him, but knew there was no point to protesting, and she had no interest in the tabloids, it didn’t really matter.  She grabbed a pen from his desk and quickly signed the papers, handing them back to him, none too gently.  “I’m not here for gossip or to spy on you and your girlfriends.”


Just a small precaution is all.”  He motioned towards a stack sitting on an end table. “These are the books I mentioned.  There are notes in some, and then there are also a few journals.  I don’t know where ye’d like to start or what ye’re looking for, but I’m happy to help.”

She took it as a truce.  If he was willing to help her find the Hope, then that was all that mattered.  Letting out a sigh, she let her anger go, happy to get back to the reason she was there and the only thing of any importance. 

Her research had turned up a connection to the jewels few would know about, and even fewer would likely document openly, given the time period.  The books Iain had gathered—especially the journals—might help to reinforce the information she’d found.  And now that Iain had weaseled his way into her find, she’d make the most of his offer to help.

“I think the journals might be a good place to start, but first, I was wondering if you knew of any clan stories that were passed down through the generations.  Given the importance of the jewels, I suspect they’d try to mask the clues in the spoken word rather than the written.”


My father would be the one to talk to about that—or our housekeeper, Mrs. Wallace.  She would likely know the stories better than anyone, though she’s only here once a week on Mondays.”

“Should we go
through the journals then?”  Despite all the annoyances of the day, excitement bubbled within her like champagne drunk too fast, ecstatic to be looking for the necklace once more.

He
leaned against the desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest, so his shirt stretched tight over his muscles.  “Not yet, lass.  If I’m going to be of any help to ye, I need to know what ye’ve already found.”

And just like that—she
felt like a soda gone flat. 

She shook her head no, wondering how the hell this all got away from her so quick.  “This is
not your find, Iain, it’s my research—research I’ve worked hard on.  I truly appreciate your help with this, and I’ll give you full credit for that, but it doesn’t mean we’re partners.”

He
lazily stretched out his long legs in front of him as if he hadn’t a care in the world and shrugged, a smirk on his lips.  “Ye see, I think it means
exactly
that.  If the Hope necklace is found on my lands, then you can have full credit for finding it and analyzing the historical records that uncovered it, but the necklace will still be mine.” 

She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down,
so that she wouldn’t lunge at his neck, wrap her fingers around it and strangle the life out of him.  “Please, do
not
tell me you’re going to hock that necklace to the highest bidder.  You can’t possibly sell the Hope when it has such historic importance.  If you do, then you’re an even bigger jerk than I first thought—and given the circumstances under which we met, that’s saying something.”

“Well, ye may think me a jerk and an idiot, but
I take offence that ye’d think I’d sell something of such significance to my country and clan.”  He leaned forward so they were only inches away, anger ablaze in his eyes, but she refused to budge even if he was infuriatingly close.  “I’m a highlander, aye?  That necklace means more to me than you could ever know.”

Cat racked her brain for the legal wording and specifics. 
“Well, you wouldn’t be able to sell it anyway.  Though the Treasure Act may not apply to Scotland, you still abide by
bona vacantia
, and that means the treasure itself would go to the National Museum, though you’d be paid its equivalent.”

“Ah… but would it really?
”  His smirk was infuriating.  “Ye’ve said ye have information that involves my clan and that my clan was in possession of it, no?  And my understanding is that as long as there’s a living descendent, the treasure belongs to that heir.  Since my family is still in existence and the rightful heirs, the Highlander’s Hope would remain ours.” 

His smug smile made her want to wipe it from his face.  Her mind raced through the law
’s details, and though she couldn’t come up with all the specifics, Iain would likely have a case in court.

She could only appeal to his honor.  “Then I’m begging you, Iain.  Do the right thing and keep it safe.  Promise me you won’t
sell the Highlander’s Hope.”

“Only if ye give me yer word that
ye’ll stop being such a pain in my arse.”  He cocked his head, humor glinting in his eyes.

“Iain, I want your word.
  Promise me—or I swear, I won’t be able to think straight.”

He laughed and shook his head, his
gaze locked on hers so her breath caught and her heart raced.  His voice was gentle when he spoke. “Aye, lass.  Whist.  Ye have my word.” 

Relief overwhelmed her, as a smile tugged at her lips
.  “You’re just lucky your clan isn’t bigger.  ‘Cause there’s no way in hell you’d be my first choice for a partner.”

“Aye, the feeling’
s mutual, lass.  Believe me… the feeling’s mutual.”

 

 

 

Chapter
Four

 

Iain leaned in to look at the notes Cat had scribbled in her notebook, curious about what had led her to the MacCraigh clan.  Now that he was less worried about her snooping around his troubles, and he knew it really was the Hope they were looking for, it could very well be the financial lifeline he needed. He’d do his best to keep his promise to her, but he’d also do whatever was needed to keep his family safe. A heavy weight lifted off his chest, and though he was a long way from breathing easy, he could finally relax a bit.

He looked over at his new partner as she
went through her notes.  She was an interesting creature.  Completely unlike any other woman he’d known.  The girl was smart, of that there was no question.  What he hadn’t expected was the passion that sparked in those green eyes or the sarcasm and humor that laced her words—especially now that they’d finally sorted out their differences.  Truth was, she was far too entertaining a distraction from his troubles.  Maybe his father was right after all.

“It really was she
er luck that I found the clue.  I’m sure you know of Lord George Murray, a commander to Prince Charles Stuart.”  When he nodded, she continued.  “Do you know of his trusted friend and lieutenant, Robert Cameron?”

“Aye, it’s
rumored he had the necklace well before Culloden, but after that, the references to its whereabouts stop.  No one knows where it ended up.  There are no references to it, Cat.”  He leaned back, wondering if she’d gotten it all wrong.  Surely others would have figured it out by now if there were clues out in the open.

“You’re right.  There are no references to it—at least not where one might expect to find them.  My research actually started
as a documentation of love letters during the time of the uprising.  Trust me when I tell you, the last thing I expected to find were clues to the Highlander’s Hope.”

“In a love letter?”  He supposed it was possible.  “But hadn’t historians already looked at the commanders and their families?  One would think it’d show up
.”

She spun in her seat to face him
, a knowing smile dancing upon her full lips.  “They did look at their families.  However, our dear Mr. Cameron, though loyal to Bonnie Prince Charlie, was a little less loyal to his wife.  The love letter was to Nessa, his mistress.  Very few knew about their relationship back then, and even fewer were aware of it with the passing of time.” 

Her smile was infectious, for he could now see how it may have all played out.  “Cameron gave
her
the jewels.”

“Exactly!
  He knew his family would come under scrutiny by the British, and didn’t want the necklace to be found or for his family to be implicated.  Since few knew about his mistress, she seemed the logical choice.”  Her excitement softened, and her eyes seemed distant, as if she’d been transported to a different time.  “He loved her, and she loved him.  Their trust was implicit and complete.  He knew she wouldn’t betray him—and don’t you see?  It was their love and trust that kept this priceless treasure safe all these years.”

He had to smile at her dreamy-eyed romanticism. 
“And my clan?  How was my family connected?”


Nessa had been married and widowed.  It was her husband—he was a MacCraigh.  They had two sons together before his untimely death—they’d be your ancestors.”  She closed her notebook.  “From what I can tell, her relationship with Robert didn’t start until after she’d become widowed from John MacCraigh.  I believe Robert and John had been good friends and once John passed away, Robert did his best to help his friend’s widow and sons.”

“Ah… and help the widow he did.”  It was starting to make sense.

“It wasn’t like that, Iain.”  She shifted in her seat, her brows pulled in a furrow.  “Nessa and Robert had been friends before she married, and they didn’t become lovers for years after John’s death.”

Iain
realized just how seriously she took all this.  She was truly vested in these people’s lives.  He guessed it must happen when one did such extensive research.  “I’d not meant to imply that she wasn’t loyal to her husband.”

“I know it doesn’t really matter, but…”
She sighed with a shrug.

“Aye, lass.  I get it.  Ye get to know them through their letters and looking into their lives.  And it does matter.  My apologies.  I’d meant no disrespect.”  He gave her hand a quick squeeze
, trying to reassure her that he truly meant the words he’d just spoken.  Though they’d gotten off to a rocky start, he was happy the tension between them had eased.  “Where did ye find the letters anyway?”

“The museum’s library didn’t have a whole lot of information on them.  Only that they’d been found tucked away in a hidden compartment of a
desk that was being reconditioned.  Whoever found them thought they might be of historical significance and donated them.”

He supposed some
of his family’s furnishings could have gotten sold off during less prosperous times or been given away as a form of payment.  “What happened to the happy couple?”

“Robert died at Culloden.  As for
Nessa, she married soon after Robert’s death, and quickly bore her husband a daughter.”

Iain
looked at her in question.  “How quick?”  The implied meaning wasn’t lost on Cat.

“Quicker than most would have expected given the date of her marriage.”  She smiled at that, as if happy that
Nessa was able to keep a part of Robert with her after his death. 

A hopeless romantic. 
Iain had to smile at that.  “Well then, we might as well get started.”


I have copies of the letters if you want to go through them.  Might be a good idea, since you know your family history, and I could easily miss something, not thinking it important.”  She pulled a file from her bag and handed it to him.  “Here.  Just please, do
not
leave these hanging around.  The fewer people who know about your family’s connection, the better.”

“And what of this guy ye’re worried about?
  Does he know ye’re after the necklace?”  If there was an outside threat, then he needed to know just how serious it was.

“That would be Dr. James Tanner.  He’s a fellow historian, but he’s also a bastard.”

And a hell of a lot more, Iain thought, by the heat in her tone.  “Does he know what ye’ve been researching?”

She shook her head no, though she didn’t look convincing.  “He hasn’t made the connection yet, but he followed me up from Cambridge.  Turned up in my hotel this morning, which is going to make it damn hard to come and go without him taking notice. 
Actually… I have a confession to make.  And I swear, I would
never
do this sort of thing under any circumstance—except that I panicked.”

“Cat.  What did ye do?”  A sliver of
dread pierced his chest.

“I really am sorry.”
  Her brows were drawn together, her eyes pleading with him for understanding.


Cat.

She cringed and looked away.  “I told him I was here to see my boyfriend—and if he happened to follow me here, then he’ll think you’re him.  My boyfriend. 
Crap!
  I’m sorry.  I don’t even do relationships anymore, so don’t think it’s some sort of weird play for you just because you’re Scotland’s most eligible bachelor.”

He swallowed the laugh that wanted to erupt. 
Now wasn’t that one hell of a corner Little Miss Librarian had just backed herself into.  Not that he’d be letting her out of it just yet.

“I’m not sure I believe ye, love.”  He watched her
eyes go wide as she stammered in shock, looking deliciously mortified.  “Ye wouldn’t be the first to try tricking me into bed for a shag, love.  Though I’ll admit, I hadn’t really been expecting it from ye.”

To say her face had gone red would be an understatement, and it utterly delighted him. 
“You can’t possibly think I’m trying to
sleep with you
.  Of all the absurd things.  I’ve never…”

“Never?” 
He feigned mock horror, and then burst out laughing.  “I’m kidding.  Ye’re fine, love.  I understand why ye did it, and truth is, it’s a believable excuse—as long as we’re able to convince everyone of it.  If we can’t, then he’ll know ye’re hiding a far bigger secret.”

“You’re such a jerk.  I can’t believe you did that to me.” 
She swatted at him and then collapsed back on the sofa.  “And I need a new place to stay, or I’m liable to murder James—and you too, while I’m at it.”


Ye’ll be staying here.  Remember?  You’re my girlfriend now, and I’m not going to risk having others find out about the necklace just because one of your exes is snooping around.”

“I never said he was my ex,
Iain.”  Suspicion had her glaring at him.

“Calm yerself, lass—a blind man could tell there was something between
the two of ye and it all went wrong.  I’ve no interest in yer relations or where ye lay yer head at night, except for the fact that this now involves me and mine and I need to keep them safe.  People get crazy when a treasure’s involved, and the last thing we need is others catching wind of this.”  Better to be paranoid and safe. “We’ve plenty of room here, and it’ll make it easier for us to work together.”

“W
hat about James?” 


Ye made yer bed, love.  And what a nice bed it’ll be with the two of us sharing it.”  He leaned in and brushed her cheek, a laugh bursting forth when she pursed her lips in annoyance and slapped his hand away.  “Besides, even if ye told him ye were researching something completely unrelated, he’d still linger to see what ye’d find.  But our little ruse should do the trick.  Even if ye split ages ago, no man wants to see his ex with another.  He’ll not be able to take it for long.”

“Then why didn’t I just stay here to start with?  He’s already seen me at the inn,
Iain.  He must suspect something’s up.”  She went back to being panicked.  “And it’s not like we look like lovers.  We’ve argued every time we’ve met, and James may be an ass, but he’s not an idiot.  He’ll see right through it.”

“Will he?” 
Iain leaned in, his gaze soft but unwavering, his eyes locked on hers as he tucked a curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering as he took a deep breath, her scent filling his head.  She blushed like a girl after her first kiss, and he had to laugh, his little experiment over.  “It will work, aye?  But only if ye don’t go red every time I touch ye or slap me away.”

“Well, what do you expect?  I’m supposed to be here fo
r research, not a romp.”

“Don’t go worrying that pretty little head of
yers—I’ll think ye no less professional if ye relax a bit and pretend to enjoy my company.”  By the gods, the woman could drive a man to drink.  “As for why ye were at the inn, we’ll make sure he overhears my excuse of getting caught out of town on business and my apologies that it forced ye to stay at the inn.”

It could work.  Hell, it had to.  In a small village l
ike Dunmuir, a rumor of any treasure, let alone the Highlander’s Hope, would spread like wildfire, especially if this James fellow started to openly question Cat’s motives where others could overhear.

She shook her head, her lips pursed and worry tainting her eyes.  “I don’t know, Iain…”

“Come.”  He stood and grabbed her hand, hauling her to her feet.

“Where
the hell are we going?”  He got drawn brows and a scowl from her. She was interesting—and hard-headed to boot.  This could be fun.

“First things first.”  He spun her around and pulled out the large cl
ip that held her long curls in place.  It tumbled down over her shoulders as she futilely protested and he ran his fingers through her hair.

“What the hell,
Iain?”

Refusing to let her ruin their
plan, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, their bodies pressed together.  “Ye want this to work, right?  Then we’re going to wander through town, pretending to be lovers, before we go back to yer hotel to grab yer things.  And no clips—my women wear their hair down.”

She stammered and
cursed as he laughed.  By the gods, this was going to be fun.

***

Once in town, Iain and Cat walked into the pub hand in hand, and took a seat by the window, knowing they’d need to lay the groundwork to make their relationship believable.  He could tell she was still uncomfortable with the role she was playing, but knew most wouldn’t notice the slight tension in her body when her eyes still sparkled in his direction, and a sultry smile tugged at her lips. 

He knew the rumors would
be flying.  Gossip was easily the most popular pastime in Dunmuir, and this news would go the rounds faster than lice through a schoolyard. Though there were several places to get lunch, the pub was the most popular, especially with the locals.  Busy as it was, it wouldn’t take long for word to get out that Iain MacCraigh, confirmed bachelor and local laird, was getting intimate with a pretty brunette.  Though he dated plenty, he seldom brought anyone home to Dunmuir—and that alone would be enough to get the rumor mill churning.

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