A Laird to Hold by Angeline Fortin (best feel good books .txt) 📗

“—Mrs.—” a quick up-thrust and her elbow caught him in the jaw “—Urquhart.”

Jameson released her, and panting, Claire skipped out of arm’s reach. “Don’t forget it again.”

Her eyes darted around the few gawking onlookers and then she spotted Hugh coming through the main doors. Calling his name, she ran to him and flung herself in his arms. “It’s Jameson. He’s here.”

In a heartbeat, Hugh changed from the man he’d become to one she hadn’t seen in months. Hard, ferocious. He pushed her behind him, ready to do battle.

But Jameson was gone.

Hugh turned back to her. Once again, his blue eyes were soft, brimming with concern as he examined her from top to bottom. “Did he hurt ye?”

“No. I’m fine. He’s obsessed, Hugh. Not like before. Worse. And I think he knows,” she added. “And I’m not entirely sure he’s just guessing.”

“Knows what?”

“Everything.”

Scarlett

An hour later, Scarlett and Laird had been recalled from the hospital and they were all convened in the hotel suite for an emergency meeting. Hugh explained who Phil Jameson was, and then what the NSA was for the trio unfamiliar with the agency. From there, he gave them a more thorough rundown of their past encounters with the agent.

“He’s relentless,” Claire continued from there. “He lost his cushy job over this obsession with hunting Hugh down. He acts like Hugh isn’t even human, referring to him as it or thing. Calling him an anomaly. I honestly think he believes it’s like his calling in life is to capture Hugh. But I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Do ye think he’s after us all now?” Laird shared a thoughtful look with Scarlett. She knew what he was thinking and hoped he was wrong.

“She’s long been a worrier,” Hugh said of his wife. “But she’s never been one to overreact. Aye, ‘tis possible Jameson’s extended his hatred of me to all of ye.”

Laird traced the pad of his thumb across his lower lip. An unconscious gesture he displayed when deep in thought. “Could his hatred be turned to violence?”

Hugh raised a brow. “Why do you ask?”

Scarlett shook her head minutely in hopes of stopping him, but Laird continued quietly, “Scarlett and I were besieged at the theater last night.”

A wave of questions bombarded them.

What?

How?

Why didn’t you say something?

“Someone got into the theater and took a shot at us.” Scarlett downplayed the truth. Still, when Rhys slid to her side and wrapped an arm around her, she couldn’t help but take comfort in his caring gesture. “We weren’t hurt,” she assured him but went on for the others. “I don’t know who it was. I’m assuming a fan who’d become fixated or something. It happens from time to time. Obsession with an ‘if I can’t have her, no one will’ twist. If they’ve linked me with Laird, someone might feel insanely betrayed. That sort of thing. Though I’ve never had one act on one before, I’ve had plenty of threats in my life. I’m sure it wasn’t connected.”

“But might it hae been?” Laird persisted, looking to Claire for an answer. “What if Scarlett is wrong and it was this scurrilous agent of yers?”

Claire thought about it and looked to Hugh for guidance.

He tapped the corner of his mouth with one finger. Scarlett could have smiled at the thoughtful movement so similar to Laird’s if the situation weren’t so dire. “I will admit, I cannae see it.”

“I wouldn’t think so either,” Claire agreed. “I mean, he’s a Grade A obsessed asshole but he’s never been violent before.”

Hugh cast his wife an incredulous look.

“Oh, him sic’ing his thugs on you doesn’t count,” she told him with a tight smile. “They didn’t stand a chance and you enjoyed it. Admit it.”

“I did,” he granted. “Dispatching them was barely e’en sport.” He fell silent for a moment. “When last we saw Agent Jameson, his frustration was palatable. I did taunt him to a degree. Could he hae been driven to madness?”

“Driven to murder you and anyone you know?” Claire asked him skeptically, but turned to the others. “I hate to think that was enough to do it. That we brought him down on you, but why would he do it at all? He’s obsessed not utterly irrational.” Claire had been treading circles around the room, wringing her hands. The encounter had clearly distressed her.

Not that any of them were calm. Or even sitting. All of them were on their feet, ready to take action at a moment’s notice. If there were an action to take against this agent who may or may not have been the one to shoot at her and Laird. Scarlett hated not knowing for sure.

Claire went on, “Otherwise he would have been after every friend we’ve made since coming to Scotland. Unless he suspects you are like Hugh. Time travelers.”

“What would make him suspect such a thing?” Laird voiced the question before Scarlett could. “That we’re from the past? Even if he’s been following ye as he says, ‘tis a radical assumption to make.”

“He may hae seen the…er, video is the word, aye? Of our arrival here,” Connor speculated. “He may hae seen the clothing we wore and drawn his own conclusions.”

But that still linked the association back to Hugh and Claire. Clearly, Claire was devastated to think she’d brought this agent’s obsessive wrath down upon them.

In a heartbeat, it all clicked into place for Scarlett.

This was the source of all her reservations when it came to Hugh. Somehow she’d known he’d bring some threat down upon them. Not that he’d meant to or even been aware of it, but he’d linked them to the danger. Her previous wariness now made sense given recent events. However, Scarlett realized she shouldn’t have feared Hugh,