To Tame a Highland Earl (44 page)

His father halted and for the first time in
his life Erroll saw him nonplussed. “By God, no, she is not, and
why should she be?”

“
Perhaps it is merely the
fact she is English, then?” Erroll asked.

“
English?” his father
repeated in a cold voice. “I did my best to see to it you
understood things from both sides of the border. God knows, after
The Forty-Five Rebellion, Scotland and England were as far apart as
Cain and Abel. I had hoped your generation would be the one to
bridge the chasm. Where did I go wrong? When did you decide the
English way was better than Scottish life?”

Erroll stared. “You misunderstand me, sir. I
do not think England any better than Scotland. In fact—” he broke
off.

His father’s gaze turned shrewd. “In fact
what?”

An epiphany hit Erroll and he felt like Saul
on the road to Damascus. “You wish to bridge the chasm between the
Scots and English?”

“
The Scots, yes, but even
more so, the Highlanders.”

“
In Manchester you
chastised me for not marrying a Scottish woman. You said I cinched
the English noose more tightly around our necks.”

“
Yes,” his father replied.
“I might want to bridge the gap, but that doesn’t mean we deny who
we are.”

“
You never told me any of
this,” Erroll said.

“
What is there to tell? You
had to see the world yourself, decide for yourself. Surely, it was
obvious.”

“
Was your marriage to my
mother your way of trying to bridge that gap?”

“
King George commanded the
marriage. You know that.”

“
And you know your duty,”
Erroll murmured. He thought of the way Eve made him feel, the way
he wanted her so badly it hurt, and recalled the look in his
father’s eyes three nights ago at the party. Erroll imagined that
same look in his eyes when he looked at Eve. He loved
her.

Erroll felt as if a fist had been driven into
his gut. He loved her—but believed she didn’t love him, just
like—Erroll stared at his father. “It isn’t the fact your wife is
English that separates you, but that you do not believe she loves
you.”

To Erroll’s shock, pain registered on his
father’s face. “She knew her duty and married me.”

“
All these years, and you
never told her you love her.”

“
A man doesn’t burden his
wife.”

“
Just as a wife doesn’t
burden her husband.” Erroll recalled Eve telling him that she
wanted to
like
her husband and suddenly realized what a fool
he’d been. “Sir, if I am any judge of women—and I cannot guarantee
I am—I suspect you are as big a fool as I.”

“
What the devil are you
talking about?”

“
I’ve seen the way my
mother looks at you. If ever a woman loved, it is she.”

His father’s brows snapped down.
“Erroll--”

Erroll shook his head. “My God, all these
years. Did she never—” He caught sight of a carriage sitting in the
front circle of the house and strained to discern the crest in the
torchlight. “Is that—yes it is, Lydia and Connor’s coach.” He
looked at his father. “Did my mother invite them?”

“
I imagine so, but Lydia
would never deign to wish you well.”

“
No, but Connor would. I
think we had better go inside.”

“
I thought you were
leaving.”

“
I believe it is better
that I do not make the same mistake you did.”

“
You care for her?” his
father asked.

“
I do.”

“
Then tell her.”

Erroll laid a hand on his father’s shoulder.
“I suggest you do the same.”

*****

Eve couldn’t refuse the marchioness’ request
that she come immediately to the pink parlor. The castle was filled
with guests, and Eve had hoped no one would miss her for the
duration of the evening. But that was not to be. A maid showed her
the way and Eve forced a smile as she entered the room, where a
dozen guests milled about or sat chatting and playing cards. She
caught sight of Ash, standing just inside an alcove in the left
hand corner of the room. He frowned when their gazes met and she
read in his eyes the question of her husband’s absence. He left the
alcove and approached.

Eve met him halfway across the massive room,
and he whispered, “I don’t suppose his absence is because the two
of you were carrying on together and he had to dress before
coming?”

Eve was startled by the forthright question,
but could only reply “No.” He—everyone—would soon know that her
husband had done exactly what he promised he wouldn’t: abandon her
in Scotland.

Ash grasped her elbow and led her toward the
alcove. “Wherever he is, he won’t be happy he missed this
meeting.”

Eve started to ask what meeting when the
interior of the alcove came into view. A man stood alongside a
couch, where the marchioness sat with a woman Eve hadn’t yet met.
The newcomer, who sat rigid on the cushion, shared the dark hair
and eyes of Lord Rushton and his father.

Eve and Ash entered the alcove and the
marchioness rose. “Eve, I am so glad you came. Please meet Rush’s
sister and her husband.” She faced the man. “Eve, may I present
Connor Douglas, the Earl of Kingsley?”

The earl took her hand in his and gave it a
warm squeeze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eve.” The warmth in his
voice bellied the palatable anger that radiated from the woman.

“
And this is Lady Kingsley,
Rush’s elder sister,” the marchioness said.

The woman gave a curt nod. Eve caught the
marchioness’ disapproval in the thinning of her lips, and it seemed
she was about to say something, but a maid appeared.

“
Pardon me, my lady,” the
maid said, “but more guests have arrived.”

Lady Rushton hesitated, and Connor said, “Go
on, Angela. We are fine.”

“
I’m sure the marquess will
be along soon,” she said.

Lydia visibly stiffened, and Eve realized
that the marchioness’s words had been a warning.

“
I won’t be long,” Lady
Rushton said, and left with the maid.

“
I did not come to see
him
,” Lydia hissed, once the marchioness was out of
earshot.

“
By ‘him’, you mean my
father?” Ash said.

She jerked.

“
Lydia,” her husband said
in a warning voice.

“
I came as you commanded,
Connor. I will do no more.” Her gaze shifted onto Eve. “I pity
you.”

Ire shot through Eve. “Good Lord, what lady
conducts herself with so little decorum?” Shame immediately
assailed her and Eve looked at Connor. “Forgive me, sir. You have
been gracious, and I am not.”

“
I would call you honest,”
Ash said.

Connor cut his stormy gaze onto Ash.

Eve shook her head. “No. I am no lady to act
so ungraciously.”

“
No lady would marry
Erroll,” Lydia said.

“
For God’s sake, Lydia,”
Connor hissed.

“
Do not reprimand me,” she
snapped. “You knew what you were about when you forced me to
come.”

“
But did he know what he
was getting himself into when he married you?” Ash said.

“
Why are you still here?”
Lydia demanded.

“
The hounds of Hell
couldn’t drag me away, Sister.”

Her eyes narrowed, then her gaze jerked past
him.

Eve turned in unison with Ash to see Lord
Rushton and his father approach. Eve’s insides trembled. What was
the earl doing here? He’d told her over an hour ago he was
departing. She thought by now he would be in Tobermory, perhaps
even settled on a ship bound for England. His gaze met hers and Eve
experienced the same sensation she did when he made love to her, as
if she were the only woman in the room…in the world.

Father and son entered the alcove.

“
What are you doing here?”
Eve demanded of the earl when he stopped so close she could feel
the heat of his body.

“
Where else would I be, my
dear?” he asked.

“
Trouble in paradise so
soon, Erroll?” Lydia said.

He lifted a brow. “I do not see any blood.
Have the games not yet begun?”

Eve blinked. What was he saying?

“
It is always good to see
you, Connor,” the marquess said. “But I admit I am
surprised.”

“
Lady Rushton sent an
invitation. We wished to offer our congratulations,” Connor
replied.

“
Of course,” he said. “How
are my grandsons? Are they here?”

Connor smiled with affection. “I am sorry,
they are not. Next time, perhaps.”

It seems you need not worry that our son will
eventually inherit Ravenhall, my lord,” Lydia said. “An heir is
most assuredly on the way.” She directed a questioning brow at Lord
Rushton.

“
You go too far, Lydia.”
The harsh note in Connor’s voice startled Eve and should have
frightened his wife, but the woman went on as if he hadn’t
spoken.

“
The wedding was so
unexpected I assumed a child must be on the way.”

“
The marriage took place
three days ago.” Lord Rushton said. “It is possible.”

“
Wedding? I understand you
stood before a Registrar. “

“
Marriage, then,” he
drawled.

She gave a derisive snort. “Anything to
ensure that Ravenhall doesn’t fall to me.”

“
One cannot blame a father
for wanting his family home to remain in his family,” the earl
said.

Lydia’s eyes shifted onto her father. “Is
that what it is, you want Ravenhall to remain in the MacLean
family? Or is it that you are simply determined I shall not inherit
the estate?”

“
This is not the place or
time to have this discussion,” he said, and Eve agreed. Despite the
privacy of the alcove, if the conversation became too heated, the
guests would be privy to a family squabble. Something she feared
was taking on a life of its own.

“
Tell me, my lord, where is
a good place and time to discuss the fact that you tossed aside my
mother for your mistress?” Lydia demanded.

“
We have discussed this a
thousand times,” the marquess said. “You know that wasn’t the
case.”

Her eyes flashed. “The ink is barely dry on
the marriage certificate and already there is talk of how long it
will be before Erroll, like his father, sires a child out of
wedlock.”

“
Bloody hell—” Lord Rushton
cut his gaze onto Connor. “I am sorry, Connor, but she must
leave.”

Connor gave a brusque nod and grasped his
wife’s arm, pulling her to her feet.

She shook him off. “Are you afraid of the
truth, Erroll? Or perhaps you attempt to shield your wife from the
truth?” She looked at Eve. “Surely you know his reputation.”

Her husband seized her arm. Eve feared he
would drag his wife from the room in front of their guests, and
quickly replied, “It is impossible not to be aware of Lord
Rushton’s reputation. But he isn’t the first rake to marry.”

“
Then you don’t mind that
he will carries on his father’s legacy?”

Anger and fear rammed through Eve. “I never
asked him to change.” She’d never had the chance—never seized the
opportunity.

A malicious glint appeared in Lydia’s eyes.
“Well, well, Erroll, a woman who doesn’t care that you have bedded
half the women of the ton. What will she do in the nights ahead
while you bed the other half?”

“
By God, Lydia,” the
marquess began, but Lord Rushton cut him off.

“
You are mistaken, Lydia.”
He took Eve’s hand, placed it in the crook of his arm, then covered
her hand with his. The tremble inside her traveled down through her
legs. “Eve did not ask me to change. I made that
choice.”

Eve jerked, but his hand kept her fingers
firmly wrapped around his forearm.

“
Never say London’s most
notorious rakehell married for love,” Lydia sneered.

He smiled at Eve and she was certain her
heart would break when he said, “It had to happen eventually.”

“
I wish you luck, Eve,”
Lydia said. “His affection will last until you return to
London.”

Eve recalled Laura Greenwood. His attention
hadn’t lasted even that long. “Whatever the case, I only pray I
don’t become as embittered as you.” Eve shook her head. “What
happened to you, madam?”

Lydia gasped.

“
Simple,” Ash cut in.
“Olivia and I were born to our father’s mistress, Moira MacLean,
while he was married to Lydia’s mother.”

“
You make it sound so
simple,” Lydia hissed. “There is much more to the story. He
abandoned my mother for your mother, left her to die when I was but
six years old. Even now, the rumors about how she died of
heartbreak are repeated.”

“
That is enough,” the
marquess snapped. “Put those malicious rumors to rest. If anyone
perpetrates them, it is you.”

Lydia fisted her hands at her sides. “Is it a
rumor that you loved Moira MacLean? You sired two children with
her. Even your Sassenach wife means more to you than my mother did.
Four children you sired on her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to
touch my mother after I was born.”

The marquess stared in stunned silence. “My
God,” he finally whispered. “Where did you concoct such a
story?”

“
She told me.”