especially. Idly, he noticed Mac enter the tavern, then slip out into the rain-drenched night. His eyes narrowed speculatively. What was the young boy doing out at this hour, in such weather?
“What’ll you think, Angel?”
Kyle glanced up, startled. Douglass and the Highlanders broke into laughter.
“Don’t worry, lad. If I had a wench upstairs like yourself, I’d be dreaming about the chit, too.”
Kyle smiled wryly, forgetting about Mac. “I should hear something in the next twenty-four hours from Lord Sutcliffe. Once we have the necklace, we can return the girl and head back to the Highlands. We could be home as early as Tuesday.”
“And what of the gems?” a rough Highlander called Brannock asked, his taciturn face brimming with excitement. “Do you think we could lure the prince back with them? Do you think it will be enough?”
“I think we have a good chance,” Kyle said cautiously. “The total treasure will ensure the financial support the prince needs. But the necklace will entice him in a way no mere fortune could.”
“How so, Angel?” Brannock asked.
“That piece has more than mere monetary value,” Kyle said softly. “The jewels were passed down through the nobles’ families. They’ve been kept by the aristocratic clans, guarded for the day Scotland would have her own king once more. The Camerons gave them to Charles as a token of their faith.”
“Then they were lost at Culloden,” Douglass said cautiously.
“At the time my father disappeared.”
The men said nothing. They had heard this story enough times before, though not from Kyle. Everyone knew that the MacLeod name was in disgrace, that Kyle’s father was accused of absconding with the gems for his own purposes. Awkwardly, Brannock broke the silence.
“Well, you know none of us believe that.”
“Aye.”
“ ’Tis madness.”
The Highlanders concurred and Kyle relaxed, the tension leaving his face. “Aye, ’tis madness. The necklace will prove that. More importantly to us all, I think it will be the enticement that the prince cannot resist. When he sees the jewels, he will know the support of the clans is behind him.”
“Do you mean to go tonight, then?” Douglass asked.
Kyle nodded. “I was going to wait, but I think I should leave. It will be better to travel by nightfall, especially since Devon has seen me.”
“But he doesn’t know you’re the Angel,” Douglass said.
“Yes, but he could be looking for me, as the Angel’s emissary. As it is, I’ve put my London identity into jeopardy.”
“Aye, Laird Murdoch, Scottish nobleman and English gambler,” Roarke, a dark-haired Highlander with a classically beautiful face, interrupted. He smiled at his own jest. “Popular with the ladies, a favorite with the gentlemen—except those who owe him money.”
“Aye,” said Kyle, smiling. “A pity I can no longer number Lord Woodruff among the former.”
“Can’t say you’ll miss him,” Douglass laughed, then his grin died abruptly. “Kyle, maybe you shouldn’t be the one to go. One of us could get the necklace.”
“No,” Kyle said. Something in his voice prevented further discussion of the issue. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his men, nor that he wanted the glory for himself. There was the personal reason behind his insistence, the absolute in his own mind. No one else could get the necklace first; Kyle simply had to be the one. After a moment, Douglass agreed.
“Aye. You will go then. But be careful, my boy.”
Kyle nodded, then got to his feet. For selfish reasons, including Marisa, he would have preferred to leave tomorrow, but the wait was making him uneasy. The thought of the jewels so close to possession was unbearable. Tossing some coins on the table, he strode out to the stables and ordered his horse saddled. It was then that he noticed the Highland boy returning, his clothes soaked from the rain.
“Mac,” Kyle said quietly, immediately suspicious of the startled way
“What’ll you think, Angel?”
Kyle glanced up, startled. Douglass and the Highlanders broke into laughter.
“Don’t worry, lad. If I had a wench upstairs like yourself, I’d be dreaming about the chit, too.”
Kyle smiled wryly, forgetting about Mac. “I should hear something in the next twenty-four hours from Lord Sutcliffe. Once we have the necklace, we can return the girl and head back to the Highlands. We could be home as early as Tuesday.”
“And what of the gems?” a rough Highlander called Brannock asked, his taciturn face brimming with excitement. “Do you think we could lure the prince back with them? Do you think it will be enough?”
“I think we have a good chance,” Kyle said cautiously. “The total treasure will ensure the financial support the prince needs. But the necklace will entice him in a way no mere fortune could.”
“How so, Angel?” Brannock asked.
“That piece has more than mere monetary value,” Kyle said softly. “The jewels were passed down through the nobles’ families. They’ve been kept by the aristocratic clans, guarded for the day Scotland would have her own king once more. The Camerons gave them to Charles as a token of their faith.”
“Then they were lost at Culloden,” Douglass said cautiously.
“At the time my father disappeared.”
The men said nothing. They had heard this story enough times before, though not from Kyle. Everyone knew that the MacLeod name was in disgrace, that Kyle’s father was accused of absconding with the gems for his own purposes. Awkwardly, Brannock broke the silence.
“Well, you know none of us believe that.”
“Aye.”
“ ’Tis madness.”
The Highlanders concurred and Kyle relaxed, the tension leaving his face. “Aye, ’tis madness. The necklace will prove that. More importantly to us all, I think it will be the enticement that the prince cannot resist. When he sees the jewels, he will know the support of the clans is behind him.”
“Do you mean to go tonight, then?” Douglass asked.
Kyle nodded. “I was going to wait, but I think I should leave. It will be better to travel by nightfall, especially since Devon has seen me.”
“But he doesn’t know you’re the Angel,” Douglass said.
“Yes, but he could be looking for me, as the Angel’s emissary. As it is, I’ve put my London identity into jeopardy.”
“Aye, Laird Murdoch, Scottish nobleman and English gambler,” Roarke, a dark-haired Highlander with a classically beautiful face, interrupted. He smiled at his own jest. “Popular with the ladies, a favorite with the gentlemen—except those who owe him money.”
“Aye,” said Kyle, smiling. “A pity I can no longer number Lord Woodruff among the former.”
“Can’t say you’ll miss him,” Douglass laughed, then his grin died abruptly. “Kyle, maybe you shouldn’t be the one to go. One of us could get the necklace.”
“No,” Kyle said. Something in his voice prevented further discussion of the issue. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his men, nor that he wanted the glory for himself. There was the personal reason behind his insistence, the absolute in his own mind. No one else could get the necklace first; Kyle simply had to be the one. After a moment, Douglass agreed.
“Aye. You will go then. But be careful, my boy.”
Kyle nodded, then got to his feet. For selfish reasons, including Marisa, he would have preferred to leave tomorrow, but the wait was making him uneasy. The thought of the jewels so close to possession was unbearable. Tossing some coins on the table, he strode out to the stables and ordered his horse saddled. It was then that he noticed the Highland boy returning, his clothes soaked from the rain.
“Mac,” Kyle said quietly, immediately suspicious of the startled way
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