Page 21 of Some Like It Wild
Munroe walked to the very edge of the chasm before shouting, “Put your hands in the air, sir, before we blow you and this wretched eyesore to kingdom come!”
Rolling his eyes, Connor reluctantly complied, wondering what Pamela would think of the colonel’s dialogue.
He waited patiently while Munroe gathered a healthy complement of his men around him and came marching across the bridge. Even though they kept their muskets at the ready, Connor saw several of the soldiers cast nervous glances at the churning sea below.
As soon as they stepped off the bridge, Connor called out, “And a good morn to you, Colonel. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
Monroe stopped a few feet in front of him, his men fanning out to flank him. “I’m looking for two women.”
Connor smiled pleasantly. “Aren’t we all? Although most of us have to be content with only one.”
Several of the soldiers chuckled, but their mirth was quickly stifled by a black look from their commander.
“I can certainly see why you’re still looking,” Connor added, nodding toward the cannon on the opposite side of the bridge. “Your courtship technique leaves much to be desired.”
One of the men cleared his throat and stared fixedly at the ground, having learned his lesson.
Munroe’s bushy gray eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “I’ve no time for your pathetic attempts at levity, sir. Two women were abducted from their hired carriage last night on the Stirlingshire Road. TwoEnglishwomen,” he added, making it clear that the disappearance of two Scottish women would have been beneath his concern. “According to a witness, they were taken by a man who perfectly matches your description.” He reached into his scarlet frock coat and pulled out a tube of paper. He unfurled the scroll with a brisk snap of his wrist, revealing the broadsheet that had been nailed up in every market square from Inverness to the Orkneys. “Bythisvery man, according to our witness’s account.”
“Hmmm…fine looking fellow, isn’t he?” Connor leaned closer to study the crudely sketched likeness. “Though it’s a wee bit hard to tell with that mask hiding so much of his face. He could almost be anyone.” Connor nodded toward a strapping young soldier to Munroe’s left who matched him in height, breadth of shoulder and strength of jaw. “Including him.”
The soldier flushed and began to sputter. “Why, C-Colonel, I would never—”
“Silence!” Munroe barked. “I seriously doubt my lieutenant spent last night abducting and ravishing two innocent women.”
As the soldier’s flush deepened, Connor grinned. “Twoinnocent women? I can’t say I’m not flattered, Colonel, but you may be giving me credit for more stamina than I possess.” He started to lower his hands. Monroe’s men tensed, their fingers twitching on the triggers of their muskets. Connor kept his hands at the level of his shoulders. “There’s no need for such caution. As you and your men can see, I’m not only outnumbered but unarmed.”
Munroe’s skepticalharrumphtold him what he thought about that. They both knew a man his size was never truly unarmed. “Seize him!” the colonel commanded, stepping back so the men under his command could do his dirty work for him.
As half a dozen soldiers lowered their muskets and swarmed around him, roughly jerking his arms behind his back, Connor felt a pang of regret to think of how crushed Pamela would be when she realized he would not be able to help her find her mother’s murderer or win her reward from the duke. He wondered if she would shed a pretty tear when they led him to the gallows or if she’d join the rest of the English on the lawn with their picnic baskets and parasols to watch him hang.
One of the soldiers was closing an iron cuff around his wrist when suddenly the chains went clanking to the ground. Connor jerked up his head to find the men gaping in the direction of the gatehouse in open-mouthed fascination.
He took advantage of their distraction to swing in the same direction.
His own jaw dropped. Pamela and Sophie should have been safely secured in the vault by now, awaiting their rescue by these fine young English soldiers. Yet here they came, strolling across the grass in their perky little bonnets with their arms linked and their yellow and blue skirts rippling in the breeze, looking like twin buds of English womanhood. All they lacked was a parasol to twirl.
As they meandered into musket range, Connor’s hands closed into fists. “When I get my hands on Brodie…” he muttered beneath his breath.
Munroe looked equally flummoxed. He turned his glare on Connor. “Just what is the meaning of this, sir?”
“Damned if I know,” Connor murmured, watching warily as Pamela detached herself from Sophie and wended her way through the soldiers to his side.
While the soldiers cast Sophie dazzled glances, which she received with downcast lashes and a demure smile, Pamela stood on tiptoe and pressed a chaste kiss to Connor’s cheek, her lips soft and warm. “Hello, darling. You didn’t tell me we had gentlemen callers.” Tucking her small hand in the crook of his arm, she beamed at Munroe and his men. “So have you come to tour the ruins as well on this fine April morn?”
Connor gazed down at her, unable to believe he had once thought her face only pleasing. With her amber eyes sparkling and that wicked little smile playing around her lush lips, she was absolutely ravishing. And ravishable.
“They wouldn’t have brought a cannon if they had come to tour the ruins…dear,” he gently pointed out.
Pamela shaded her eyes against the sun to view the distant cannon. “Are they in the middle of some sort of military exercise? Might we be allowed to watch while we enjoy our picnic?” she asked hopefully.
Munroe’s lips were pressed into a tense line. “We’re not here on an exercise or to see the ruins, miss. We’re here to rescue you.”
Pamela arched one graceful wing of a brow, giving him an incredulous look. “From what? The only thing I care to be rescued from on this fine spring day is the incessant threat of rain.”
“Bring the witness,” Munroe snapped through clenched teeth, sending one of his men scurrying back over the bridge.
He reappeared a few minutes later, dragging the wiry old coachman behind him. Feeling Pamela’s nearly imperceptible flinch, Connor covered the hand still nestled in the crook of his arm with his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
