“I’ve weighed both options myself.” Adain crossed to drop into an opposite chair, his turbulent unrest making it hard for him to sit quietly. “Gillian had no idea of his true nature. Her uncle had kept all of it from her. I tried to gloss over how truly bad his reputation for cruelty and lawless force actually is, for I believed she was too innocent to understand. However, obviously I got my point across, for she agreed to come with me, even though she does not know me.”
“Doesn’t she?” Harry’s mouth quirked. “I got the opposite impression at dinner. The lady acted as if she might know you quite well.”
It was a little disturbing, but true, Adain pondered, not sure how he felt about the situation. It was almost as if she just
knew
him. How he thought, how his demons haunted him, maybe even how to heal him . . .
Not really comfortable with his inner speculation on the matter, he switched the subject back. “If Kleiss thinks I’ve appropriated something of value and decides to come for her, the Cameron clan will rally to my side. If he can raise hundreds, rest assured, I can raise a thousand in less than a day.”
“A Scottish battle for an English girl?”
“A Scottish battle for the principle against sacrificing her to someone I know will treat her cruelly.”
“I suppose I concede that point.” Harry nodded briskly. “I just wondered if the Camerons would fight for her.”
“They will fight for
me
, if I ask. Randal inherited the title, but I am laird now in their eyes.” His cousin might have been officially in line, but Randal had no stomach for leadership, and the responsibility had fallen to Adain some time ago. His clan looked to him and, in turn, would take arms against anyone at his bidding. “Especially against Kleiss, since Scotland would be well rid of that odious blackguard,” he added in a steely tone. “And I could probably count on the McCrays’ support as well.”
There was a short silence in which the rain pelted the window and the wind wailed eerily. Harry finally asked, “You would ask Robbie McCray for a favor?”
If things had to be as they were, at least Adain could answer that hesitant question honestly. “We are friends, believe it or not. He did not seduce Julia away from me; the choice was hers. He might have a reputation as a wild rogue, but he is also honorable and genuinely cares for her, as far as I can tell.” He swallowed hard, the next words difficult. “She seems to return the sentiment. I would have her happy, so I am indebted to him in that way.”
Harry didn’t comment, which was just as well, but instead expressed his sympathy by refilling Adain’s glass. “You may call the McFerran clan up also, if you have need of their swords.”
It was a generous and moving offer, indicative of their long friendship. Adain took a drink and grinned. “I was hoping you might say that.”
“You would do the same for me, so how could you doubt it?” His friend looked bland. “However, fight or no, tell me—what are you going to do with your beautiful maiden in distress? If, as you tell me, she is truly alone and without means to live, once Kleiss is thwarted, you cannot simply send her on her way.”
“I know.” Adain had pondered the matter all day. Though he had to admit, with Gillian in his arms, thinking was a bit difficult.
Harry was anything but a fool. “You should marry her, Adain. She is a lady, and both charming and well mannered. Since you admit you desire her, why not? Yes, she’s English, but as far as I can tell, that is her only flaw, and there is the irrefutable point that you spent the night together at an inn. Even if you didn’t as much as touch her hand, people will assume the worst.”
Since their assumption would be entirely correct, it was difficult to argue. He’d touched a hell of a lot more than her hand. In fact, he had explored every inch of her delectable body. Adain muttered, “If you assume that hasn’t occurred to me, think again. What choice did I have but to find her shelter? It was late, and she was both shocked and upset over the attack and her uncle’s death. Her reputation seemed the last thing either of us should worry over.”
But, yes, it
had
occurred to him the moment he’d opened his door to her knock and she’d asked to come in that there might be consequences if he agreed.
Yet he hadn’t done the right thing, the prudent thing, but instead invited her inside and proceeded to take her virginity. It wasn’t like him, but it was what it was, and he now needed to repair the damage done.
“Finding a husband for a woman of her obvious appeal should be simple enough under other circumstances. However, finding a husband for a ruined English girl with no dowry is another matter.”
“What makes you think she’s ruined?” Adain asked irritably, even though he was guilty as sin.
And astonishingly not all that repentant about the matter.
“Lady Gillian looks at you the way a woman looks at her lover.” Harry’s face wore a shrewd expression. “At least, that is what my wife tells me. And I have already mentioned how you look at her. I, for one, do not blame you in the least. She needed comfort, at a guess, and you offered it in your bed.”
Actually, that was not correct, Adain thought with ironic insight.
He
had been the one who needed comfort, and she had offered it to him. With a sigh, he admitted, “My head was not in charge, but a very different part of my anatomy controlled my actions. However, I was not planning to wed anytime soon.”
“What do you mean? You are five and twenty. Bloody hell, Adain, you would be married to Julia right now if things had not gone awry.”
“That is my very point,” he shot back. “I still love Julia. Maybe I will always love her. It is an injustice to marry anyone when my heart lies elsewhere.”
“The injustice,” Harry countered, unfazed, “is that you are not moving forward. It is a step toward curing yourself of your melancholy to take a woman into your life. Breed children, Adain, and enjoy Lady Gillian’s soft, willing body beside you each night. She is not Julia, I concede it, but surely it is possible to develop affection for another? Lust is an acceptable place to start. Perhaps love will come with it. Either way, you will no longer be alone and bereft.”
Adain gave his old friend an exasperated look. “You are as romantic as an old woman, Harry.”
McFerran shook his head. “I am not. I am trying to explain that something good can perhaps come from your snatching away Kleiss’s betrothed and risking your fool neck to protect her. If you marry her right away, even if the coldhearted bastard does discover where she is, he will have no legitimate claim.”
“There was a marriage agreement, signed and legal,” Adain argued—but a voice in his head said Harry was right. If he married Gillian, it would be a greater stumbling block if the earl took issue with her presence at Castle Cameron. Besides, honorably, he did need to do the right thing. Even now, she could carry his child.
“Do it so it can’t be revoked in court. I can have a clergyman here in an hour. You will have to pay a fine, but you’re rich enough that hardly matters. My wife and I can be the witnesses. I’ve a lot of influence in this area; by God, I own half of it. If I testify to the marriage, the matter is done, from the point of view of the courts.”
By Scottish law, if there were two witnesses to not just the wedding, but the bedding, it could not be contested legally. Adain had his own reservations over having an audience to what should be an entirely private matter, but Harry was right: Kleiss would have no recourse except to acknowledge Gillian was out of his filthy reach.
Adain was a little surprised he wasn’t more opposed to the idea. He’d spoken the truth before: He did still ache for Julia with a persistent need he feared would never go away. It felt unfair to marry Gillian, considering his feelings for another woman, but she was most definitely better off marrying him than a rapacious, murdering bully who reputedly beat his servants, browbeat his family, and terrorized his tenants. Rumor had it the earl’s last wife had died after he’d punished her for some slight, and the details of what he’d done would sicken even a hardened warrior.
He thought of the vulnerability of Gillian’s satin-smooth skin, the slender grace of her body, the beauty of her deep blue eyes.
Adain shoved himself to his feet. “Send for the clergyman.”
Would he come to her?
Gillian wasn’t sure how these things worked, since she had never had a liaison before, and most certainly had no idea how to be someone’s mistress.
Was that what she was now?
She wasn’t sure. Adain Cameron had bedded her most thoroughly, but perhaps that was all there was to it. One shared and entirely memorable night of passion in which they sought solace together against her ill-fated engagement and his shattered heart. The trouble was, she didn’t want it to be left that way. An offer of protection could mean many things, and if letting him bed her made her a whore, so be it. She’d live with the label if it was what he wished of her. What she’d heard about Kleiss was bad enough, and by her lover’s own admission, he was sparing her the more gruesome details. She was much better off in Adain’s arms and bed, even without the benefit of honest marriage.
Besides, an inner voice reminded her in droll observation, it wasn’t like she hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed every moment of their lovemaking. Aunt Eugenia had been right: If done properly, it was quite an enlightening experience.
With restless anticipation, she paced across the room she’d been given. It was very fine, with velvet hangings on the bed, carved heavy furniture, and tall windows that still whispered with the persistent rain.
A sharp knock sounded and a deep voice called her name.
Gillian froze midstep as she realized Adain was just outside. A small curl of excitement spiraled through her body. Was it wanton to be so eager for his touch? She didn’t care. Impulsively, she crossed the room to open the door.
His gaze ran over her thin nightdress and loose hair. “I see you are still awake, my lady.”
“I’ve been waiting,” Gillian confessed, feeling her face warm in a blush. “I hoped you would come to me.”
That was shameless enough, wasn’t it?
His silver eyes glimmered and his well-shaped mouth looked a little tight. “I need to talk to you.”
The intense expression on his face made her heart sink a little. “I . . . see.” She faltered. “Of course.” She stood aside and watched him enter the room. He didn’t look at all like the tender lover of the night before, or even the solicitous escort of their journey. Instead, he stalked restlessly across the room to look out the window for a moment before he turned his gaze to her. Dark hair, a little tousled, curled against the strong column of his neck, and his gray eyes were very direct.
Without preamble, he said, “We need to marry. Tonight. The arrangements are being made.”
She blinked, not expecting that statement in the least. “What?”
“Will you accept me? If so, it will keep you safe from ever having to marry Kleiss.”
Gillian was so off balance she wasn’t sure what to say, so she just stared at him for a long moment.
When she said nothing, his expression changed. “I . . . see, lass. If you don’t wish this—”
His reaction registered and Gillian quickly shook her head, knowing he’d been rejected before, her hands clenching in the filmy material of her sleeping gown. “It isn’t that I don’t wish it, Adain. I am simply surprised. We do not know each other.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You were promised to Kleiss and you have never even met him. And besides, lest you forget, we know each other in the most intimate way a man and woman can.”
Gillian flushed. “That’s true,” she agreed faintly, aware of the vulnerability he tried to hide. She was just flustered over this unexpected proposal. “I simply meant that two people cannot decide to wed within a day of their acquaintance.”
“Yes, they can, if you agree. I would never force you against your will, but I do think this is best.” He added quietly, “You could carry my babe even now. I will not see you shamed, or my child born a bastard, and I will never allow Kleiss to claim you either, so my solution is logical, is it not?”
“I . . . I suppose so.” She felt a little giddy, and for the first time since her peaceful, sheltered existence with Aunt Eugenia was shattered by the tragedy of her beloved relative’s death, a glimmer of hope came for the future. What she had prayed for with Lord Kleiss was at best a kind husband who would treat her decently. Never had she dreamed she would be able to marry a handsome young man, who—even if he had a wounded heart—would seek to protect her at such cost.
“Your answer is yes, then?”
The intensity of his expression took her breath away and she simply nodded, unable to speak.
“Very well.” He made no move to take her in his arms but instead glanced at the small, ornate clock on top of the mantel. “Harry swears to me he can have the necessary parties here in just a short time.”
She didn’t have an extensive wardrobe by any means, but her trunk had not been something they carried on his horse, which meant she had next to nothing appropriate for such a momentous event. She had selected only a set of clean clothes for their journey and the simple sleeping gown she had on now. Gillian said in dismay, “I have nothing to wear.”
“What you have on is fine.” His gaze dropped briefly to where her breasts swelled beneath the thin material, and for the first time he seemed to relax a little. “Actually, it is perfect.”
“My nightdress?”
“The ceremony will be here, in this bedroom.” He glanced at the bed, neatly turned down by one of the McFerran maids. Don’t worry. It will all be very quick.”
Gillian felt a little weak-kneed suddenly, and she stared at the bed for a moment, then gave him an outraged look. “You wish to marry me in a bed? I didn’t realize
that
was a Scottish custom.”