Page 92 of Sinful Scottish Laird
“You came!” Ellis cried happily. “I prayed you would,” he added excitedly.
“Did you indeed? God must have heard your prayers, aye?” He chuckled, and with a pat to Ellis’s back, he rose and bowed to Miss Hainsworth.
She was staring at him with a decided look of panic. “You ought not to be here!” she said, reaching for Ellis and pulling him back. She glanced around, as if she expected someone to come running to apprehend them.
“I ought no’ to be, aye,” he agreed. “But I’ve a wee bit of unfinished business.”
“Not now,” Miss Hainsworth said, looking increasingly anxious. “The bishop, he’s...he’s with Lady Chatwick now.”
“Is she to marry Spivey?” Cailean asked bluntly.
The blood drained from Miss Hainsworth’s face; she opened her mouth as if she meant to speak but couldn’t manage it.
“She’s not,” Ellis said. “She’s to marry one of the bishop’s men.”
Cailean’s gut clinched. He looked at Miss Hainsworth, hoping she would deny it. She didn’t. “Has the agreement been made?” he asked.
Miss Hainsworth shook her head. “No. Not as yet.”
Diah,there was no time. “Miss Hainsworth,” he said and moved closer. “I need your help.”
Miss Hainsworth immediately began to shake her head. She looked over her shoulder, as if someone were following her. “You really shouldn’t be here. If anyone sees you—”
“Miss Hainsworth,” Cailean said, ready to beg if he must. “You must help me, aye? If you donna help me, she might make a decision that will impact all of you for the rest of your days.”
“But it is thebishop,” she said fearfully. “I cannot commend my immortal soul to hell for defying him.”
She was determined to make this difficult. “No,” he agreed. “But if your cousin found her happiness on this earth because of you, would no’ your immortal soul soar to heaven?” He was grasping, hoping that made even the slightest bit of sense.
“He’s right, Belinda!” Ellis tried.
Miss Hainsworth bit her bottom lip. “No,” she said to Ellis and to Cailean, “My lord... I beg your pardon, but I can’t help you.”
Cailean felt the jaws of defeat begin to close in around him. His shoulders sagged. His spirit was draining out of him.
“Ican help you,” Ellis said with determination.
Cailean smiled. “You’re a bonny lad, but I donna think you can help me with this.” No, he’d lost the battle before it was ever waged. “I’ll take matters in my own hands, then,” he said. “Have your walk, aye? Perhaps I shall see you back at Chatwick House.”
“But you can’t,” Miss Hainsworth said frantically.
He could, and he would. With a bow to Miss Hainsworth and Ellis, he stepped around them and started back down the path, headed for Audley Street.
He’d not taken many steps when Miss Hainsworth shouted, “Wait!”
Relief swept through Cailean. He glanced heavenward with a silent prayer of gratitude and turned around.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THREEDAYSAGO, the bishop had brought around Lord Vanderberg. He had a poorly powdered wig that emitted a faint but unpleasant scent. His breeches gaped around his spindly legs, and his complexion—a shade of gray—seemed sickly to Daisy.
He greeted her with a warm smile and showed Ellis his Bible. He politely inquired of Ellis about his religious instruction.
“I attend church services with my mother,” Ellis muttered.
“That’s a good boy,” his lordship said. “Now then, do be so kind as to run along to your governess so that I might have a word with your mother, will you?”
“Yes, my lord,” Ellis said and dodged the man’s liver-spotted hand as he hurried from the room.
