The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

"It’s thanks to you that he’s alive," Brock snapped.

Now they were out in the corridor, he noticed that a small crowd had gathered in response to the fracas. He put on his most lordly air and glared at them all. A few had already retreated into their rooms before he spoke in the authoritative tone he’d inherited from generations of Highland chieftains. "Just some small trouble. It’s sorted out now. Nothing to worry about. The landlord will be informed."

Nobody saw fit to argue and soon their audience had dissipated. Which didn’t mean they wouldn’t talk about what they’d seen, plague take them.

Once they were alone, Brock stopped to check Selina’s injury. Apart from the bruise spreading across her cheek, she was ghostly pale. She looked sad and frightened and unhappy. His heart contorted in agony. He loathed seeing her like this.

"How is your poor face?" With gentle fingers, he turned her cheek up to the lamplight.

He saw her hide a flinch. "I’ll live."

Brock struggled to summon an encouraging smile. "Yes, you will, but for the next little while, you’ll live with a lovely purple face." His smile vanished, as the true horror of what Cecil had tried to do to her overcame him. "My love, I’m so sorry everything has gone to hell. The last thing I wanted was to cause you harm, and I’ve gone ahead and spoiled everything. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I can forgive you. You just saved me." Only when she cast a warning glance behind her did he recall that Kitty shadowed them.

He was too used to having Selina to himself. All of a sudden, the need to hold her in his arms was too strong, Kitty or no Kitty. "Come here. You look like you’re about to collapse where you stand."

He swung her high against his chest. She made a muffled sound of shock, but to his relief, she curled against him and hooked her hand behind his neck.

He checked back to catch Kitty observing them with unconcealed approval. He approved of the girl, too. If she hadn’t waited in the innyard to catch him the moment he arrived on that half-trained nag, God knew what might have occurred. "Go and see if the landlord can give you some ice for your mistress’s face, Kitty. I’ll take her to her rooms. They’re at the end of the corridor. You might also need to tell the fellow that I’ll cover the damage that I did to the door when I broke in."

"Don’t you mean we’re going to your rooms?" Selina murmured, after Kitty curtsied and hurried away.

"Right now, it’s my suite. I reserved it last week. But I’ll go downstairs later and tell the landlord it’s now yours. I’ll organize a separate chamber for myself. It’s too late to prevent a scandal, but I’ll do what I can to preserve appearances. It’s best you stay here tonight. I know you’re desperate to get to London, but it’s dark outside and you’re in no fit state to travel."

"I was so frightened when Cecil attacked me," she confessed in a broken voice, pressing closer.

"He won’t frighten you

ever again. You should never have left my side." You should never leave my side.

"Oh, Brock," she said in a broken voice. She buried her face in his chest and burst into a storm of tears.

His gut twisted into tangled knots as he cuddled her closer. He hated to hear her cry.

"Selina, sweetheart, don’t take on so." When he strode down the hallway, his arms tightened around her. "Hush. Hush, my love. He’s not worth it."

Brock shouldered his way into the suite’s parlor and gently settled her in a chair in front of the blazing fire. He dropped to his haunches before her and fumbled in his coat so he could pass her his handkerchief. "Please stop crying, Selina. It’s all right. It’s all going to be all right. He was never worthy of you."

"I’m not crying over Cecil," she said thickly, wiping at her eyes. "In fact, one of the few good things about this shambles is that I no longer have to marry that poisonous bully."

"He’s an odious toad," Brock said, starting to rise, but pausing when she caught his hand.

"Don’t go."

"Some brandy might make you feel better."

"You make me feel better."

A shaken sigh escaped him. The sight of Selina staggering under that blow had taken ten years off his life. It would haunt him forever. "My darling, what am I going to do with you?"

He leaned in and kissed her with great care, because he was agonizingly aware of how hurt she was. Her lips trembled under his. They tasted of tears.

"Cecil is an odious toad," she said, with an attempt at a smile. "It’s almost worth losing my reputation if it means that I’ve avoided marrying him."

This time, she let Brock go and pour some brandy. He went down on his knees in front of her and helped her hold the glass steady so she could drink. "Shall I send for a doctor? I imagine a quack is already downstairs, seeing to Erskine."

"No, thank you. I don’t want the doctor." She took a few sips before she pushed the glass away. "I’ve still got all my teeth and while Cecil’s fist hurt like blazes, I’m sure I’ll heal, even if I look like a fright for a while."