Page 33 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Six

The dizzying current that spun Eve’s mind evaporated. “You hurt him!” She fell to her knees beside the earl and placed a finger over the pulse in his neck. A strong beat thumped against her fingertips.

Oscar towered over them. “I only knocked him cold. He deserved worse.”

Eve heard the censure in his voice and embarrassment washed over her. She’d forgotten he was hiding nearby. He’d seen—she swallowed—he’d seen Lord Rushton’s hands on her derrière and his mouth on her… Holy God, she was feeling lightheaded again.

“I had to distract him,” she retorted.

“If that maid had strolled any slower past my hiding place, I would have arrived to find he had your dress over your head.”

Eve looked up sharply. “He would not.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be the one marrying him at Gretna Green?”

She shoved upward, but was dragged back down when she stepped on her skirt. Oscar grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

She yanked free. “A kiss does not mean we must marry.”

“That was more than a kiss.”

“Oh, never mind.” Eve released an exasperated breath. “I didn’t intend for you to knock him senseless. He will be furious when he awakens.”

“No more so than when you shot him,” Oscar replied.

“How do you propose to get him out of here in this condition?” she asked. “Oh, you have truly harmed him.”

“He isn’t hurt,” Oscar said with annoyance. “Should I have politely asked him to get into my carriage for a ride to Scotland to marry your sister? You tried that.”

She groaned. “There is not even a modicum of privacy in our household, is there?” That came as a result of the servants growing up with the children of the house. Of course, the fact that Eve had known Oscar since she was five and he had pulled her out of more scrapes than she would ever admit was the reason she could talk him into helping her. This might be one scrape too many.

“Perhaps we should forget my plan,” she said. “He need not know who hit him. I can say the culprit ran away.”

“You going to marry him?”

She recalled the marriage contract. “I am not.”

“Well, you or your sister have to marry him.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“I better get him into the carriage,” Oscar said. “If he wakes up, I’ll have to beat him in earnest.” The words carried the tone of a brother who wanted a reason to beat his sister’s lover. “I can tie him up nice and tight.”

One way or another, Oscar would have his revenge. He always did, which, truth be told, had saved her much grief. This time, however… “You cannot keep him tied up the whole journey,” she said. “That would be cruel.”

“He’ll survive. I’ll feed him and give him water. He can even have a piss.”

“Good Lord,” Eve burst out.

Oscar bent and hauled Lord Rushton over his shoulder.

Eve glanced around. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

He grunted agreement but, thankfully, refrained from comment, and started deeper into the garden.

Eve hurried to keep up with his long stride. “Where are you taking him?”

“There’s a side entrance for servants. I have the carriage waiting nearby.”