He eased his hold on her a little more, since she seemed to have calmed for the moment. However, he was not about to let down his guard entirely yet.
Nor did he seem capable of setting her down or taking a step away from her.
He told himself it was to ensure she would not start hurling objects again, but the plain truth was that he liked holding her in his arms. There was something about her body that he found very much to his liking.
“Well, Bram Lanark, Duke of Solway, would you mind telling me why I was brought here against my will? I demand you release me at once and return me to Edinburgh. My niece will be frantic with worry by now.”
“Dinna do it, Bram,” the son of one of his cousins said, poking his head out from behind the damask settee. “She’ll have us all arrested.”
Bram groaned. “Och, Mongo. Yeidjit. What did ye do?”
“It wasn’t our fault, Bram,” the young man whined, and his cowering companions nodded. “We meant to bring ye the young lass, no’ this untamable old harpy.”
“Old? Harpy!” She wriggled free of Bram’s grasp and hurled another decorative vase at Mongo’s head that struck him full-on. “How dare you call me that! You crude, boorish…” She grabbed another item and was about to toss it at Mongo, whose head was now bleeding, but Bram took her back in his arms to put a stop to the carnage before she actually killed his foolish kinsman.
“Gordon,” he said to his companion, who was still holding the torch and gaping at the lady as she struggled in Bram’s arms,“put the kettle on for tea. And bring in the oatcakes and apple pie Mairie baked for tomorrow. Her Ladyship must be tired and hungry. But I need to talk to her first and apologize for the misunderstanding.”
“Aye, Yer Grace.”
Bram now turned to the spitfire who was obviously genteel, judging by the upward tilt of her nose and the quality of her cloak, although her behavior left much to be desired. However, he could not blame her for fighting to protect herself. “I am going to release ye now, m’lady. Can I trust ye? I need to get a fire going in the hearth.”
She frowned at him.
“Ye look cold,” he said with a patient sigh. “And ye must be hungry after all those hours traveling. I’d like yer word ye will no’ attempt to harm us if I let ye go. In return, I give ye my oath that ye shall be treated as an honored guest in my home until we get this mess sorted and I return ye to Edinburgh. I shall get ye reunited with yer niece as fast as possible. No one will lay a hand on ye in the meanwhile, and ye shall have all the comforts available in this fine manor house.”
She did not look pleased, but gave a curt nod.
Och, she looked so angry, and likely with good reason.
How was he to convince her not to press charges against Mongo and his two companions, all three of whom must have been drunk and not thinking straight when they stole her from the inn? And the Lampton Inn, of all places! There was no finer establishment in all of Scotland. In fact, he was quite familiar with it, since he often stayed there himself when visiting Edinburgh, preferring it to the larger hotels popular with the wealthy classes.
He needed details.
He expected he might also need to do a bit of groveling to keep his kinsmen out of prison.
Before he got to that, he needed to finish putting on his clothes, for remaining shirtless in her presence was not helping the situation.
He was reminded of the indecency of his attire every time he touched the lady. But he dared not leave her yet, for she looked ready to pounce on the hapless Mongo and his companions.
Well, the clothes would have to wait for later.
“Mongo…and the rest of ye fools, return to yer quarters and dinna come out until I summon ye. But wake Tilda first and have her take care of that lump on yer forehead and any other injuries ye might have suffered at her hand. Och, ye blatheringidjits. Mongo, also wake yer brother and have him join me in the parlor.”
“Ye want me to disturb Douglas?”
“Yes, is that no’ what I just said? Have him come to me at once. I dinna know how the pair of ye are brothers. Obviously, he got all the brains. Now, go! And dinna drip blood all over the house.”
As soon as everyone had scampered off to do his bidding, Bram set about lighting the fire. He then drew one of the cushioned chairs close to it and gestured toward the lady. “Come,” he said gently. “Ye’ll be more comfortable here. Warm yer hands and feet.”
She eyed him warily, but complied.
He knelt beside her. “What is yer name, if I may ask?”
“Lady Miranda Lawson,” she replied, her voice cultured but still laced with barely leashed fury.
“Ye mentioned a niece. Was she staying at the Lampton Inn with ye?”
She gave a curt nod. “If you dare harm her, I’ll—”
