Page 2 of My Highland Rogue
“I tried to talk her out of it,” the advocate said. “I don’t know what you’re going to do with the money, but I doubt you’ll put it to good use.”
Then McBain mentioned an amount that had Gordon turning and staring at him incredulously.
“How much?”
McBain repeated the amount.
“And it’s all mine?”
“It’s all yours.”
He’d just been given a fortune.
“It’s the perfect time, I think,” McBain said, “to tell you that you’re no longer welcome at Adaire Hall.” The advocate smiled, an expression that reminded Gordon of a cat that had just devoured a plump mouse.
“It’s been brought to my attention, McDonnell, that you have ideas above your station. I’ve been asked to explain to you that any further advances to Lady Jennifer are unwelcome. Therefore, the easiest thing for everyone would be for you to leave Adaire Hall immediately.”
He stared at McBain.
“It’s no secret that you’ve been causing Lady Jennifer trouble. You’ve been too persistent in your attentions.”
“I don’t understand.” Jennifer wouldn’t have made that comment.
“It’s simple enough,” the advocate said, standing. “That relationship is over.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Spare the young woman some embarrassment, McDonnell. Pretend, in this instance, that you have the manners of a gentleman. She’s just left for Edinburgh and expressly asked me to convey to you that she would like you gone before she returns. She’s not the only one who’s anxious for your departure. The Earl of Burfield feels the same way.”
The Earl of Burfield. That was a laugh. Jennifer’s brother had always been an idiot. In thepast few years he’d coupled his idiocy with being an ass.
“I might add that your father agrees.”
Was he supposed to be surprised at that news? He and Sean had clashed ever since he was a child.
“Maybe my father and Harrison want me gone,” Gordon said, “but not Jennifer.”
Just last night they’d met at the loch, spent hours talking, and ended the night by kissing. She couldn’t have changed her mind in a matter of hours. Not Jennifer.
“She’s not going to return from Edinburgh until you’re gone. Your father has packed your belongings, McDonnell. The sooner you’ve left, the better for everyone. You’ve been a disruptive influence around here for too long. Unfortunately, the countess didn’t agree with my assessment of you.”
Evidently, he had one more reason to be grateful to the countess.
“Neither of your parents have expressed a wish to see you before you leave. Nor has the earl. There’s a carriage at the front door. It will take you to Inverness.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to Jennifer.”
McBain approached him slowly. “Understand this, McDonnell, Lady Jennifer doesn’t want anything to do with you now or in the future.”
Gordon faced the older man down. He was nearly a foot taller and bigger than the advocate. He wasn’t intimidated.
When he didn’t speak, McBain continued. “Sheregrets meeting you at the loch, McDonnell, and allowing you to kiss her. Is that plain enough for you? Face it, man. You were an amusement and now you’re not.”
McBain’s tone had softened, and there was something that sounded like pity in his voice.
Had he been wrong? Was it possible that Jennifer felt that way? No, McBain was an idiot to think he’d believe that of Jennifer.
The advocate returned to his desk, reached into the drawer, and pulled out a stack of notes. Gordon immediately knew what they were. He and Jennifer left notes for each other all over Adaire Hall. In the coop, in the forks of a tree they’d learned to climb just beyond the house, in a loose brick in the fireplace in a room adjacent to the schoolroom—anywhere they could find that would be private. If Gordon couldn’t meet Jennifer after his work was done, or if she couldn’t join him because of her obligations, they always communicated with each other.
