Sleepless In Scotland Part 7

"Och, me dearies! Most men are worth the trouble when all's said and done, fer we all need challenges to keep us sharp."

OLD WOMAN NORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER'S NIGHT Triona sprang to her feet, hands fisted at her sides, her face hot.

He came to see me, not my uncle. Triona found that rea.s.suring. Her thundering heart slowed a mite, and she managed to catch her breath.

Aunt Lavinia looked perplexed. "Bedford is waiting for Lord Hugh. Why is he coming here, I wond-"

Hugh's large form filled the doorway. Impeccably dressed in formal morning wear, his dark blue coat perfectly molded across his broad shoulders, his cravat a masterpiece of complication, he entered the sitting room and bowed.

Regarding him from beneath her lashes, Triona suddenly found herself unable to breathe. In the carriage and the inn, the dim light had hidden many things about Hugh MacLean.

The bright light from the windows played over his dark hair and caressed his strong jaw. Worse, it turned his green eyes to a deeper, mossier color that held her in place, unable to utter a single word.

The white lock that ran back from one temple shimmered silver, as if pulsing with power. His mouth, which he'd pressed on hers so indecently the night before, was thinned with displeasure, but it was the look in his eyes that gave her the greatest pause. He appeared stern and darkly angry, his emotions held in thin check.

Memories of the wind from last night made her shiver.

Aunt Lavinia began to push herself from her chair.

"Please," he said, his voice as rich and warm as melted b.u.t.ter. "Do not rise. I merely came to speak to Miss Hurst."

She lifted her chin. "I don't believe we have anything to say to one another."

His dark gaze flickered over her, reminding her suddenly of the way her bones had melted in his embrace, before he glanced indifferently at her aunt. "Madam, I would like to ask for a few moments alone with your niece."

Aunt Lavinia shifted uneasily. "I'm not sure I sh-"

Caitlyn grasped her aunt's arm and tugged the older woman to her feet. "Of course we'll leave Lord Hugh to speak with Triona." Caitlyn herded her aunt to the door.

"I cannot leave them alone; it would be improper!"

"Nonsense-Triona is already ruined." Caitlyn tugged her aunt out into the hall. "She can't get more ruined by a few moments alone with the man now."

"Yes, but your uncle Bedford-"

"Can attend them very soon." Caitlyn turned back and said in a breathless voice, "I can only promise you a few minutes. Once Uncle Bedford is informed that you're here..."

MacLean's gaze never left Triona. "Thank you."

Caitlyn nodded. "I'll do what I can to keep them away." She closed the door behind her, her voice raised as she a.s.sured Aunt Lavinia that it was perfectly proper to allow Lord Hugh some time alone with "his intended."

Triona's mind was occupied with a startling realization. In all the years since Caitlyn had come into her beauty, few people-especially men-ever paid Triona the slightest heed whenever her twin was about. Yet for some reason, Caitlyn's beauty had little effect on Hugh MacLean. He seemed far more disposed to look at her than Caitlyn, even when they were in the same room.

Triona rather liked that, and the realization calmed her nerves as nothing else this morning had. He might be supporting a houseful of illegitimate children and cursed with a storm temper to boot, but at least he saw her-and that was something.

Hugh crossed his arms over his chest. "I would rather we talk alone before this progresses any further."

"I would rather never talk about it at all, but it appears I must."

His lips quirked. "I feel the same, but your uncle will not rest until we've had many conversations-preferably over a breakfast table as man and wife."

"I'm certain that once some time has pa.s.sed, no one will even remember this silly incident occurred and-"

Hugh reached into his pocket and handed a folded page to Triona. "This morning's Post."

Her heart sinking, Triona opened the paper.

An elopement scotched, or foul play? Last night, Miss H-, niece to Lord and Lady G-and sister of Miss C. H-, left London in the company of Lord H. McL-. Rumors of an abduction have been flying, especially since Lord and Lady G-raced off to rescue their wayward niece- "Good heavens," she said weakly, sinking back onto the settee. "It's already all over town."

Hugh nodded tightly. "There is also a wager listed in the books at White's."

Triona pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. She became aware of MacLean's dark green gaze locked upon her face and she managed a faint smile. "I hope it is a positive wager, at least."

"Ten to one that I will offer to marry you." His lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I suppose I should be glad I'm thought so responsible."

Her heart thudding sickly, Triona forced her numb lips to move. "There is no question of saving my reputation. I-I made the mistake. I will not have you pay for it."

"Miss Hurst, we both made mistakes. You were in that coach out of pure, though naive, motives. I was there not just to protect my brother, but also to exact revenge on your sister for making him the talk of the town. Of the two of us, I am far more at fault."

Triona pressed her hands to her cheeks. "My lord, there must be another solution. Marriage is so...permanent."

His deep laugh washed over her, and she looked at him, surprised.

His green eyes crinkled with genuine amus.e.m.e.nt, his face completely relaxed for the first time since she'd met him. What an astonishingly handsome man! The thought surprised her, and with difficulty she looked away. Careful! I can't become muddled in my thinking. Handsome or no, I know nothing of this man but ill.

For a brief moment she wondered what it would be like to be married to such a gorgeous man, to see him every morning over the breakfast table, to spend the day strolling on his arm, perhaps taking in an exhibit at the British Museum, and then going home to dinner and- "Miss Hurst, I must ask you a question."

His face was still relaxed from laughter, his gaze amused and warm. Just one look made her tingle in the most unexpected places. "What's that?" she asked in a breathless voice.

MacLean walked toward her and stopped, his knees not quite brushing her skirts as he stood looking down at her. "Are you in love with anyone?"

Triona's thundering heart moved into her throat as she tilted back her head to look at him. "No. Are you?"

His lips twitched into a half smile that was as sensual as it was fascinating. "No. I'm not."

She hadn't realized how important those words would be, but a sliver of pure, unadulterated relief splintered through her. At least we won't have to deal with that issue.

"That was my one hesitation." He sat in the chair nearest her, his movements as fluid as a lion's, his broad shoulders dwarfing the chair back. "Miss Hurst, let me be plain. I don't believe in love. I never have."

Her cheeks heated when she realized she was staring at his muscular legs outlined by his well-fitted breeches, but she couldn't seem to help it. In all of her life, she'd never met a man who was so physical. Good G.o.d, she had to stop this. What had he said? Oh, yes.

"You may not believe in love, but I do. My parents love one another very much. Surely yours-" She forced her wandering gaze to lock on his.

"I haven't expressed myself well. I believe some people are capable of love, but I am not one of them."

"Why not?"

"My blood doesn't burn warmly enough for such emotion."

"Well, that is certainly plain speaking. Unfortunately, I always wished to marry for love. It's yet another reason we can't allow this situation to progress."

He frowned. "I don't believe you understand the seriousness of your position. That's not surprising, though, considering you have only your aunt, uncle, and sister to advise you."

She stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

"However good your aunt's intentions, I wouldn't call her understanding strong."

Triona couldn't disagree. Even Mother called her sister "silly." "My aunt has a good heart for all of her faults. Furthermore, my uncle and sister are hardly empty-headed."

"Your uncle is a pompous a.s.s, and I cannot imagine that he's taken the time to explain anything to you."

Triona hadn't even seen her uncle this morning, for he'd ensconced himself in his library to await Lord Hugh. That he'd done so without bothering to have a single word with her had been irksome, but she wasn't about to inform MacLean of that. "He said enough," she returned evenly.

MacLean flicked a skeptical brow. "And your sister hasn't displayed the best grasp of propriety, which is the crux of this issue."

"Caitlyn is usually not so mannerless, and you have your brother to thank for that. He wagered her that she could not wrest a proposal of marriage from him."

MacLean's brows snapped together. "Did he, indeed?"

It wasn't a question, but a wondering comment. "I was surprised, too. I can't imagine why he'd do such a thing, knowing the possible consequences. Meanwhile, my sister rose to his challenge and threw caution to the wind by publicly announcing-"

Hugh could see the exact moment it dawned on her that her words would confirm all he'd said about her sister's lack of decorum. Behind her spectacles, Triona's eyes darkened, her plump lips folded with disapproval.

Hugh smiled grimly. He'd take little satisfaction in winning this argument, but win it he must. "For the moment, let's leave them out of this. If there were another path I could take to defuse this situation, I would take it, but there's not."

Last night, instead of getting some desperately needed rest, he'd been awake most of the night, trying to find a better resolution. With dawn had come the Morning Post, and bitter acceptance.

He'd slept then for two hours and had awoken with a pounding head, his stomach refusing food, which was normal after a bout with the family curse. There was a cost for his ability to control the winds. Only once, years ago, had he attempted to halt the curse after it had grown full-blown, and it had almost killed him. He'd vowed never to do that again.

Of course, he'd also vowed years ago never to marry. Long ago, he'd paid dearly for allowing a woman into his life and he'd sworn never to repeat that mistake. Yet here he was, on the verge not only of allowing a woman into his life, but of making her his wife. Life had a cruel sense of irony.

Hugh regarded her from beneath his lashes, her hands clenched into fists, her face pale. She was resolute; every line in her body said so. "Miss Hurst, you have a sister-perhaps more than one?"

She frowned. "I have two. There's Caitlyn and my youngest sister, Mary."

"If you care for your sisters and their future, you won't return home until you are safely wed. If you don't marry, society will condemn you for what it believes has occurred, and them by a.s.sociation. Your sisters will be whispered about, then cut altogether."

"But neither of them did anything! Nor did I!"

G.o.d, she was lovely, especially when outraged. Her creamy skin flushed, her eyes sparkled behind her stern spectacles. Hugh had to force himself to look away from her just to recall his argument. "Society is a cruel mistress. She condemns by a.s.sociation just as quickly as for actual acts." He turned his gaze back to her. "You may not care about the whispers, slights, and cuts, but your sisters will, as will the other members of your family."

She didn't answer, though her lips thinned.

"And your father's a vicar," Hugh continued ruthlessly. "He will not be allowed to keep his living, once all three of his daughters are branded indecent women. Your brothers will be watched, their every move interpreted negatively. Then there is your mother: I can't imagine she'd deal well with-"

"Stop! I-I hadn't-" She shook her head, staring ahead with unseeing eyes. "It's so unfair."

"It's d.a.m.nably unfair."

She slid trembling hands behind her spectacles to cover her eyes. "Surely not. Surely, surely not!"

"Why do you think your uncle is awaiting me in the library? Lord Galloway is determined that you and I sell our freedom to kill the flow of rumor with disinterest."

She lowered her hands. "Disinterest?"

"There is nothing less interesting than a married couple," he said dryly.

Triona stared at Hugh, her thoughts whirling. She imagined Father's disappointed gaze and Mother's hurt expression if, after years of seeing her daughters as the belles of the village a.s.semblies, they were abruptly cut from the invitation lists and whispered about in public. Neither Father nor Mother had social aspirations; in fact, Aunt Lavinia's invitation for the season had almost been refused but for Caitlyn's impa.s.sioned pleas. Still, she couldn't deny the harm a scandal would cause her parents who treasured their family's reputation.

Triona looked down at her hands, tightly clenched in her lap. What choice did she really have? "Getting married would end all of this?"

"If we announce that yesterday we were on our way to meet my brother to announce our engagement, then yes. We'll say your nurse didn't understand the nature of our visit, and that your uncle, once he learned of our errand, not only joined us all later, but blessed the union."

"Will anyone believe that?"

"Some. By that time we will be married and on our way to the country, and it should become old news very quickly. If we don't marry, there will be nothing to counteract the rumor and it will grow."

Triona's knees ached with the need to run away. She stood and crossed to the window, looking blindly at the garden.

She didn't have any choice. None at all.

Hugh watched her closely. Her expressions were so vivid that he could almost follow her exact thoughts. The sunlight traced her stubborn chin and nose, glinting off her spectacles.

He'd never thought spectacles on a woman attractive, yet on Triona they framed her amazing eyes, enlarging them so that the flecks of gold in the hazel were bright and vivid. His gaze dropped lower to the smooth line of her throat, to the delicate hollows of her neck and shoulders, to the generous swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. d.a.m.n, she was a warm armful, and he couldn't stop imagining her beneath him. Perhaps this marriage wouldn't be all bad, after all. A man's generosity could only go so far and he'd be d.a.m.ned if he agreed to such a stupendous sacrifice without getting something in return. He was many things, but a mealy-mouthed "gentleman" wasn't one of them.

She rubbed her arms as if cold. "There is really no more to be said, then. We must marry."

"I procured a special license this morning so that we can marry in three days' time."

"And after that?"

He shrugged. "After that, we'll go to my house in the country and live as the picture of domestic bliss until the rumors are forgotten. A few months should be long enough for society to forget us."

She bit her lip, her even teeth capturing her plump bottom lip in a way that made Hugh's body tighten unexpectedly. "What-" Her husky voice broke and she cleared her throat. "What happens after those months?"

"You may return to your parents' house and resume your life there, while I continue with mine."

"But we will be married!"

He shrugged. "You will be an honorable woman."

"But...what if a year from now I meet someone and fall in love?"

"Then you may have an affair. It wouldn't bother me, providing you are discreet."

She seemed to choke. "It wouldn't bother you? Not even a little?"