Page 39 of The Highlander’s Unexpected Wife

Chagrin played across his handsome face. “Forgive me, ma’am. James McIntyre, at your service.” He angled his head in something of a bow.

“Who are you to Lord Weston?”

“A friend.”

“I wonder what sort of friend would kidnap a woman,” she said in the most imperious tone she could muster.

The hint of a smile tugged on his full mouth. “The sort that chases after errant wives-to-be. Really, eavesdropping from behind my carriage?”

Behind his carriage? What had Alison been up to?

She knew when to listen and made no other reply.

Twenty minutes later, they stopped in front of Lord Weston’s mansion. Nervousness tumbled about her belly. What had she to worry about? Her reputation was safe. Well, as safe as it could be, considering she’d spent half an hour alone in a carriage with a handsome stranger. Erin sent up a prayer that her father never learned the truth of how she arrived at Welbourne.

Mister McIntyre didn’t wait for the driver, but opened the door and stepped to the ground. He turned and extended a hand toward her. She placed her hand in his and dropped her eyes when his warm hand closed around hers. Heat bloomed in her chest. This kidnapper was a gentleman.

Erin stepped to the ground, then turned and faced him. “I thank you, sir.” Without waiting for an answer, she started up the walkway.

He laughed and she snapped her head up when he appeared at her side.

“I believe you have done your duty,” she said.

“Not quite.”

They reached the door and he lifted the knocker three times. She had to get rid of him. A sleepy-eyed footman opened the door and Erin pushed past him. She whirled and got a mouthful of cravat. Erin leapt back as Mister McIntyre grabbed her shoulders.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She stared up at him, suddenly transfixed by his dark eyes.

“Lady Alison?”

The name broke the spell

Erin stepped out of his hold. She had to get rid of him—fast.

“Thank you, sir. Now, good night.”

“Miss, is that you?” a woman said behind her.

Erin groaned inwardly. She recognized that voice. Erin turned and faced Mrs. Cummings. “Hello, Mrs. Cummings. So nice to see you, again.” Erin looked at Mister McIntyre over her shoulder, and said, “Your services are no longer required, sir,” then faced the housekeeper again. “Shall we go into the parlor, Mrs. Cummings?”

The housekeeper reached them and Erin linked her arm with the older woman. But Mrs. Cummings didn’t budge when Erin tried to start down the hallway. “What are you doing here, Miss Lennox? Have you any idea where Lady Alison is?” Before Erin could answer, Mrs. Cummings said to the gentleman, “Who are you?”

“James McIntyre, ma’am, and it seems I have, indeed, kidnapped the wrong woman tonight.”