Page 15 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
“I am a marquess. You shall treat me with respect.”
“Respect is earned, my lord.” Robert closed his eyes, then took in a deep breath, praying for the willpower not to put his fist in his father’s face. “If you wish to continue any form of father-son relationship, you will cease your objections. Otherwise, I will be forced to alienate myself from you in all ways. Of course, it would mean informing the solicitors that I cannot take on any pleas for any of their clients connected to you. I can only imagine the fodder it could inspire for the broadsheets.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” sputtered his father.
“With a smile on my face.”
The marquess had left then, offended and in a rage, the slamming door reverberating against the paneled walls of Robert’s library. It was a conversation he had replayed in his head several times, enjoying the memory more each time.
He rubbed his hands together, readying for the presentation of his next case. Robert was once again in his element, discovering facts, uncovering the truth, and luring the witness into admitting what she tried to hide. Annis wouldn’t stand a chance once he put his legal mind to the task. But first, he needed to lay the foundation for his case, beginning with a visit to Book and Bits. Poor Mrs. Douglas was about to become embroiled in a litigation of love.
CHAPTER 6
En route to the Highlands
Annis bit her cheek as her aunt and uncle stared at her, mouths hanging open.
“The mon had the nerve to show his face after all this time?” Aunt Sorcha was the first to recover. Her wide brown eyes strayed to the roof, as if Fin could hear them from atop the coach.
He’d chosen to sit atop rather than be cooped up inside the carriage. Annis knew he’d be restless, so she had waited to share her news of Rabbie.
She nodded in answer to the question and laughed as Uncle Donald scrubbed his face with a palm. “He’s got some bollocks, to be sure.”
“Donnie, such language,” admonished his wife.
“My apology,” he grumbled in Annis’s direction. “Just sayin’ he seems to have grown a spine.”
“Well, I sent him on his way.”
“That’s my girl,” agreed Aunt Sorcha.
Her uncle shook his head. “He should be told.” He glanced to the roof of the carriage. “It’s no’ fair to either of them, keeping them in the dark. Ye should fess up, lass.”
“She doesna owe that mon a thing.”
Annis reached out to lay a hand on her aunt’s arm. “I dinna want an argument between the two of ye because of him. He’s caused enough grief in our lives. I just wanted ye both to be aware.”
Her aunt’s gaze narrowed. “Ye’ve yet to tell us how ye felt at seeing him.”
Annis could feel the heat staining her cheeks. How did she answer that?
“Och, ye love him still,” said Aunt Sorcha with disgust.
“Leave the lass be, Sorcha.” Uncle Donald winked at Annis. “Ye canna help how the heart feels. It wants what it wants.” Then he bent his head and kissed his wife on the cheek.
Aunt Sorcha gave him a side-glance but smiled, her own cheeks pink. “I only want her to be happy.”
“I ken that. My mind tells me to run, yet my heart tells me to listen to him.” She leaned her head back against the plush squabs and stared at the distant hills, now growing into mountains as the carriage climbed higher. “I believed his words once before, and he betrayed me.”
“He made a mistake. I agree to that,” said Uncle Donald, rubbing the gray scruff on his chin. His gray eyes sparkled when they met his wife’s glare. “I’ve made my share.”
“No’ the size of a Highland coo,” argued his wife.
“We’re no’ comparing the mon I may still love to a cow,” chided Annis. “If it was just me, I might consider giving him a chance. But Uncle, how do ye propose I tell Fin that I’ve lied to him all these years?”
“Speaking as a lad once myself, I’d rather have a flesh and blood father than some drowned imaginary hero. Hard to give advice when ye’re lying at the bottom of the ocean.”
Her aunt snorted. “Ye have a point. Fin should be able to decide for himself.”
