Adventures of a Scottish Heiress by Cathy Maxwell Read Free Book Online

her knees, Miss Harrell read his mind. “Do you believe we can escape them?”
    “I’m hoping Charley has gone for help.”
    “Do you really think he will?”
    “No.”
    There was a space of silence. Ian listened, straining to hear any and all sounds. The night was deadly quiet. He sensed that their attackers were regrouping—but to what purpose?
    His eyes were growing accustomed to the dark. He felt the walls with his hand, hoping there was another weapon of some sort he could use hidden there. Instead, all he found were books. Stacks and stacks of books. Miss Harrell’s precious books. He couldn’t stop a chuckle. Here they were, fighting for their lives, and if push came to shove, he supposed they could throw books at their assailants.
    He’d start with the romantic novels, then all books of poetry.
    “Who are you?” she said softly. “You aren’t like any of the other men in my father’s employ.”
    “He hired me special.” He slung his knapsack on one arm.
    “But he doesn’t like the Irish.”
    “No one does.”
    His answer was not what she had expected. Even in the dark, he could feel her staring at him, as if taking new measure.
    But she was nothing if not her father’s daughter. “How do I know you’ve come from him?”
    Ian wanted to ask who else would be willing to serve as her human shield, but bit his tongue. “You took these books from the house. They are the only possessions you left with, save for the clothes you were wearing when you left.”
    “You are correct.” There was a beat of silence. Then she asked, “Who do you think is shooting at us?”
    “I don’t know. For all I know, they could be with your father.”
    “He doesn’t want me dead,” she said with certainty.
    Ian wasn’t so certain. A man with a beautiful young wife didn’t need an obstinate daughter who runs away before her betrothal could be announced. “Then who does?”
    “No one.”
    “You’re obviously wrong.”
    She released a shuddering breath—a response more telling than words—and scooted a fraction of an inch closer to him. “I’m afraid.”
    He knew how much fear it took for her to make such an admission. “We’re not done for yet,” he promised.
    She nodded and they sat still for a moment, listening and waiting. She started to speak again, but he silenced her by raising his hand to her lips.
    Something was afoot outside. He was experiencing the tingling between his shoulder blades that usually warned him of trouble. Why his war-heightened senses hadn’t picked up on the fact he was being followed, he didn’t know…and it concerned him. Deeply concerned him. Too often his life had been saved by his gut instincts. He hated the idea he might be getting too old for these games.
    Minutes passed like hours.
    What the devil were the bastards up to out there?
    He thought he heard a rustling. He stared at the black wall of the wagon in front of him, wishing he could see through it. He raised his pistol. With his other arm, he protectively pushed Miss Harrell back against her books, keeping her close to his side.
    Let the bastards come. His temper was up now, and he knew he could have the strength of ten men when he was this angry. He’d make them think twice before they took on Ian Campion.
    But when the attack came, it wasn’t what he expected.
    They set the wagon on fire.
    There were three thumps on the roof and then quiet. Ian frowned, uncertain. It was Miss Harrell who understood. “The roof. They’ve taken wood from the fire and have thrown it on the roof.”
    As if to confirm her words, smoke suddenly billowed in through every unseen crack in the ceiling.
    Ian pushed Miss Harrell down to the ground and threw his body over her, preparing for the possibility of the roof caving in. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
    “They’ll be waiting for us.”
    He nodded grimly. “That’s their plan.” And how would he combat it?
    “There’s a door beneath me,” she said.
    “A what?” He