Page 63 of Scot on the Run
Chapter Seventeen
Her eyelids flew open. The surprise was a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless with anxiety. “Ummm…”
Obviously the first question was rhetorical, because a second reporter pressed on. “May we have your name?”
“Bella. Bella Craig.” There was no point in evading them. They surrounded her now, eight of them in all, two deep.
“How long have you known Mr. Larrimore?”
Her brain raced madly. Why hadn’t she and Ian come up with a script for this very situation? How was she supposed to know what he wanted her to say? Damn it, where was he?
She straightened her spine and summoned a smile. “For some time,” she said. Surely that was vague enough.
“Are you romantically involved?”
“Gentlemen,” she said, “a lady doesn’t like to tip her hand.”
Oddly, there wasn’t a woman in the group. Perhaps the seasoned veterans snagged all the plum assignments. All of the press here tonight were fifty plus, and they had the tenacity of hardened beggars.
Her coy comment made them laugh, but they didn’t give up. A tall, gangly man who reminded her of Ichabod Crane, leaned in. “How does it feel to be with Britain’s number two bachelor? Can you tell us how you snagged him? What does a woman need to lasso a man like Larrimore? How did he pick you out of the crowd?”
“Th-that’s enough.” Ian’s stern warning rescued her just in time. She was about to lambast the rude, sexist inquisitor when her escort’s deep, gravelly voice drove home the point. “L-leave her alone.”
Flooded with gratitude and relief, she jumped up and latched on to his arm. She whispered in his ear, “Shall we tell them I’m your fiancée?”
To her surprise, Ian shook his head vehemently, his expression grim. “No comment gentlemen,” he said. “If you’ll excuse us, M-m-miss Craig and I have a previous engagement.”
By virtue of his size and strength, he literally shielded Bella with his body and muscled his way out of the pack of hungry newsmen. Moments later the two of them were standing outside. It had started to rain, a light mist that was cool and welcome after the crush in the gallery.
The prize committee had provided transportation for after the event as well. All Ian had to do was give his name. In no time, they were escorted to a comfortable vehicle and whisked away.
In the dark of the backseat, he loosened his tie and sighed. “Well, that wasn’t too terrible. Could have been worse.”
Bella sat and stewed. At last, even a bumbling male noticed. “What’s wrong, Margaret?” he drawled. “Pining for handsome Harry?”
“That’s absurd. I don’t understand you,” she said crossly. “The whole point of me coming with you tonight was to create a smokescreen. What happened to the elaborate story that was supposed to protect you from ravenous females and get you kicked off the eligible bachelor list?”
Ian didn’t respond at first. Did he think she was using this opportunity to trap him somehow? Humiliation curled in her belly. “Your virtue is safe, Ian, I swear. Tonight was it for me. No more playacting. I don’t know why you passed up a perfect moment to document me as your pretend fiancée, and I haven’t a clue what those reporters thought, but you definitely missed your chance.”
Suddenly, her companion leaned forward and tapped on the glass. “Driver, please take us up to Arthur’s Seat… as far as the road allows.”
The car made a U-turn. Soon they were back at the very spot where they had enjoyed a peaceful morning after last night’s unpleasant confrontation. When the pavement ended, Ian helped Bella out, took her by the hand, and dismissed their only means of transportation.
The silence echoed as the sound of the car’s engine faded into the distance. Ian held out his arm. “Take off your stockings. Give me your shoes. I’ll carry you over the rough parts.”
She could have protested. She should have backed away. Every moment she stayed with him found her sinking deeper into the quagmire.
Despite everything, she did as he commanded, as if she had neither an opinion nor a spine. Ian took the shoes and hosiery and tucked them into his jacket pockets. Fortunately, the rain had stopped but the air was thick with moisture.
They picked their way carefully to the top. Ian was as good as his word. Twice, he scooped her into his arms and carried her as if she weighed nothing at all. Any woman would have to be silly and shallow to be impressed by such a macho demonstration of brute strength. Apparently, Bella was both.
He set her down gently when they reached the summit. At this hour, they were alone.
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Why did you bring me here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. I was afraid when we got back to the hotel we’d have to run the gauntlet again.”
“So, talk.” She shrugged as if whatever subject he might introduce was of no interest to her at all.