Page 27 of A Bonny Pretender
Chapter Eight
Confrontations and Clandestine Rendezvous
“Where have youbeen? Papa was worried when you disappeared after the last set.” Evie stood close to her husband. Brecken didn’t seem to let her get far from his sight.
“I needed some fresh air, so Lord Raines escorted me to the garden.” Brigid’s hand flew to hair, wondering what it looked like. If she’d appeared disheveled, surely Lord—Frank—would have told her. “It’s beautiful. I’m surprised ye didn’t see us out there.”
Lord Brecken rubbed his beard and avoided eye contact. Brigid suspected he was hiding a smile. Evie had told him about Lord Raines!
“You certainly appear to have enjoyedthe garden,” agreed Evie. “Doc, would you mind getting us some ratafia?”
Relief swept over the earl’s handsome face at the chance to escape the forthcoming interrogation. “I’d be happy to.”
The chandeliers were lovely but expelled so much heat. Or perhaps it was her recent encounter behind the hedge. The ache between her legs had receded but continued as a dull throb. Each time she thought of his lips, his mouth, his tongue… Brigid snapped open her fan. Such a handy wee device. Not that heat was a problem in the Highlands. Oh, the breeze there was wonderful—
Evie snatched Brigid’s elbow and propelled her to an empty corner near an open window. “Tell me what happened, and don’t you dare saynothing,” she hissed. “I’m a married woman, and I know when someone’s been kissed. A second time!”
Brigid tried to keep the smile from her face. It was a valiant effort, but fruitless. “He wants to court me if I’m open to marriage.”
She found herself wrapped in a tight hug. “Oh, Brigid, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” Evie’s brows drew together. “You did agree, didn’t you? You want to marry him?”
“I-I think I love him, so I dinna have much choice, do I?” She drew in a dramatic breath as her friend wrapped her in another hug. “But right now, I can’t breathe.”
“Oh my, I’m so sorry. It’s just so wonderful.” Evie let go and stepped back. “Do you have any plans?”
“I’m just catching my breath.” Why wasn’t her stomach in a knot? Why wasn’t she panicking at the thought of a betrothal? “My only worry is leaving my home. I just dinna ken if I can do it.” Her bubble of happiness popped.
She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Dunderave, MacNaughton Castle, the Highlands were all part of her.
“Those are details that can be worked out.” Evie squeezed her arm, her brown eyes lit with understanding. “I didn’t think I could leave London, but Wales is wild and beautiful. If I get homesick, I pack my trunk and here I am. Why couldn’t you do the same? It’s like having the best of both worlds.”
It was something to think about. “I would like to see his estate. Do ye think he would arrange it?”
“I believe Lord Raines will arrange anything you desire if it puts you in the parson’s trap.” Evie giggled. “That’s a term reserved for men. How funny that it could apply to you!”
“I’m glad ye find my dilemma amusing. Let’s no’ jump over the broomstick yet.”
What would her brothers think of him? He was English, but Lachlan was married to Evie’s sister. Fenella was only a quarter Scottish, so mostly English. Her own aunt had married an English earl. She would write her ma and Kirsty tomorrow. They’ll make sense of it all and broach the subject with the men.
*
“I asked youto keep your distance from me and my family.” Sir Horace stood with fists clenched. “You come to London, snooping around like some bloodhound on the trail—”
“I did no such thing. I’ve never tried to seek you out. It was an accident we ran into each other at White’s and you know it.”
“Uncle, please,” interceded Charles. “He didn’t find out until his mother died. It was a deathbed confession.”
“Didn’t know what, exactly?” Sir Horace asked quietly, his face drained of color.
So, he wanted Frank to say the words out loud? Put it on his shoulders, rather than take any responsibility of his own. “I didn’t ask for this, sir. I was satisfied with my life as I’d known it. However, it seems you had relations with my mother just before her marriage to… the late Lord Raines. She carried me in her belly when she said her vows.”
“Did she suffer?” Sir Horace’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to cover it.
“Lady Raines was ill for a long time. But she died in peace, I believe, after she admitted—”
“I hope the blackguard went to the devil,” sneered Sir Horace. “He was never worthy of her.”
“On this, we both agree.”
