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Less than an hour after the attempted abduction, the carriage turned into the yard of a small coaching establishment in the village of Tibbermore.
Donella breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. Although still distinctly unnerved, she was convinced her life had never truly been in danger. Revenge against her uncle seemed a large part of the mysterious plan.
That it was a clan matter was beyond doubt, and those affairs were usually messy and occasionally violent. The risk to her innocent escorts had frightened her more than any threat to herself.
That her would-be abductors were willing to injure her uncle’s menanda Kendrick placed it on the level of a full-blown clan feud. Uncle Riddick had certainly made enemies in his time. But he was a powerful and respected laird, and the attack was a grave insult to him, with potentially dire consequences.
Thankfully, Mr. Kendrick had saved the day. He’d dealt with the villains with a casual disregard for his own safety, dodging bullets and tossing assailants off the Perth Bridge like skittle pins. She’d not seen such easy, awe-inspiring strength since the clan gatherings of her youth, when handsome and braw Roddy Murray had always cheerfully bested his many rivals. Back then, all the lasses had swooned over Roddy.
Donella, regretfully, had swooned right along with them.
But Logan Kendrick was quite different than the good-natured but dim Roddy. Beneath Kendrick’s roguish charm lurked something grim, even dangerous. And although he’d tried not to kill any of the attackers, she had no doubt he’d have done so if necessary. The man had shown himself to be quick thinking, decisive, and ruthless.
Donella was used to strong, fiercely protective men. Her brother and cousin certainly fit that bill. But Kendrick rattled her in a way no man ever had, even though they’d just met. It was not a feeling she enjoyed.
He was also clearly intent on getting to the bottom of the incident. Donella had some suspicions regarding their attackers, although she prayed she was overreacting. But whether her suspicions were valid or not, whatever was afoot was private family business. For the sake of her reputation, not to mention her family’s good name, she intended to keep her secrets to herself.
When Donella entered the convent, a number of barely repressed scandals had been hidden away with her. Now that she was out in the world again, she would do whatever it took to keep those scandals safely buried.
The carriage door opened, and Donella squinted against the glare of torches lighting up the coaching yard.
Kendrick appeared in the doorway. “It’s safe to come out. I’ve had a quick look around and all seems as quiet as the grave.”
She took his hand and stepped down to the cobblestones. “That’s rather unfortunate phrasing, given our circumstances.”
He flashed a sardonic smile. “Nay, lass. Not with me here to protect you.”
Kendrick loomed over her, a powerful giant of a man. The fact that his assessment was likely correct didn’t make it any less irritating.
“Are you always this self-confident? It’s annoying.”
Her voice was sharp, more for her own sake than his. Because if Donella were entirely honest, she had to admit she found him attractive. It was utter nonsense, of course, given that she’d just been released from a convent. Not to mention the sort of man he was. She shouldn’t even bethinkingof him that way.
His eyes gleamed with mischief in the flickering torchlight. “I try never to lie, Miss Haddon. As an almost-nun, you should appreciate my honesty.”
“I am not an . . . oh, never mind.”
Kendrick was clearly a tease, and she had no intention of responding to his nonsense.
“May we please go inside?” she asked. “I’m rather chilled.”
“In just . . . ah, here’s Davey now,” Logan said when the groom hurried over. “I wanted him to do another check of the building. Everything all right, lad?”
“Aye, sir. The innkeep’s wife is waitin’ to show Miss Haddon up to her room.”
Kendrick dismissed Davey with a nod and led Donella toward the two-storied, whitewashed building. The inn looked small and old, but also trim and homey. Tubs of late-blooming mums flanked the entrance and the windows gleamed bright from the lamplight within.
“You’re not expecting more trouble, are you?” Donella asked. “No one followed us, did they?”
“Apparently not, but I won’t take risks with your safety.”
“Thank you, but—”
Donella stumbled to a halt, gazing up at the gently swaying sign over the front door. She hadn’t been able to read it when she stepped down from the carriage. Now, in the light pouring out through the open door, she could see bold, black letters painted on the white background.
THE OLD MURRAY INN
Her vague suspicions—which she’d tried to ignore for the last hour—broke over her like a cresting wave. She pressed a hand to her waist, as if to hold her pitching stomach in place.
