For The Love Of My Scotsman (Complete!)

The Blackmailer Demands

Lottie shuddered, but Miss Catriona blinked, and her eyes brightened as if she were suddenly coming out of her trance.

"I bid you goodnight, my dear Miss Lottie," she said, her voice light and childlike, nothing like the ominous tone it had held only a moment before. Miss Catriona skipped from the room, her skirts fluttering behind her.

The fire flicked, casting dark shadows around the now-empty room, and shivers raced down Lottie's spine. This truly was the strangest house party she had ever been part of, and she found herself sorely missing the simple, ordinary life she had led in Baltimore, cleaning tables at her family's eatery and daydreaming about science and inventions.

With her mind still churning, Lottie found herself climbing the spiral staircase to her laboratory. The door creaked on its hinges as she pushed it open, but then she froze,

"Mr. Farraday," Lottie stared at the man. He stood just inside the doorway, leering down at her. He'd been waiting for her as if he could predict her every move. "What are you doing in my laboratory? I demand that you leave this instant!" Lottie lifted her chin, praying that he couldn't see the way she trembled beneath his cold stare.

Mr. Farraday shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off her. "Did you forget? We never finished our conversation last night. Don't worry, that stableboy won't be interrupting us this time."

"Leave," Lottie ordered again, pointing down the stairs, "or I'll scream."

He sighed. "You never learn, do you? If you scream, then I'll just reveal to everyone that I have evidence you killed Monsieur Le Coquin at Warren Mill eleven months ago." He held up a leather-bound notebook and waved it under her nose.

Lottie stiffened. "How...? How could you possibly know about that?"

"That is for me to know and for you to never find out. This notebook contains enough evidence of your crimes that you'd be hanged within a week and anyone who helped you could swing from the gallows as well. Your family will never be able to show their faces in England again for the shame of your disgrace," Mr. Farraday paused.

He turned and strolled around her laboratory, lazily eyeing her inventions. "The magistrate is quite a strict man, so I hear. He's got a nose like a bloodhound and once he gets on the trail, he never gives up until he catches his man. Or woman, as the case may be. Would you like to find out for yourself if the stories about this magistrate are true?" He picked up a spyglass that she had been reconstructing and turned it over in his hand slowly.

Struggling to breathe past the lump in her throat, Lottie followed him. There was no way he was bluffing, no one could simply have guessed the details of that cursed night when Le Coquin dragged Lottie into that mill. There were no witnesses, and no one in England would have known Le Coquin was there.  Although he had infiltrated with a small band of Frenchmen, they had been captured by William's men before the night was through.

"What do you want?" She asked quietly, clasping her hands in front of her to give the air of calmness.

Mr. Farraday finally turned, grinning at her. "That's more like it. You see, I've lost a great deal of money on an investment last year and I'm looking to recoup my losses. Your brother-in-law, Lord Greyville, has something that could serve quite nicely for my purposes."

Lottie swayed and she leaned against the table by her side. "No. Leave William and Fidelia out of this."

"Don't worry, they won't be hurt as long as you do as I say. If you try anything to escape me, however..." Mr. Farraday stepped closer until he loomed over her, his foul breath making her cringe. "Don't forget that they will suffer the most if your secrets are revealed. Lord Greyville will lose everything. To save his family honor and name, he could try to separate himself from you and Fidelia, but then that would be devastating to his wife, wouldn't it? And at such a delicate time, too..."