Page 53 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
“But—”
“I won’t spend another minute in this place. Have the carriage take us to the nearest inn. Failing that, give us directions and we’ll walk.”
The housekeeper glanced toward the dining room. “Yer Grace, it’s just the laird’s way. He’ll have slept it off by morning. It’s dark outside, and—”
“Do as the duchess says,” a quiet voice said.
Murdo stood in the doorway, defeat in his eyes.
He gestured to the young man. “See to it, Callum. Now!”
The young man nodded and scuttled off. Murdo’s gaze wandered about the hallway, settling anywhere but on Clara.
Why did he not look at her? Did she repulse him now he knew what she was?
“Murdo?”
“Duchess, tell the driver to take ye to the Kelpie’s Inn,” he said, ignoring her. “They’ll accommodate ye if ye mention my name and will set ye on a coach to Edinburgh. I’ll settle the account, of course.”
“Can you afford it now you’re not getting your hands on my daughter’s fortune?”
He flinched and closed his eyes.
“Murdo…” Clara said, pain swelling in her heart.
He opened them, and her heart shattered at the defeat there.
“I think it’s best, lass.”
“For whom? That vile, drunken bully you call a father?”
The housekeeper drew in a sharp breath.
“Now, lass, there’s no need—” the ghillie began.
“There’s every need!” Clara cried. “Did you hear what he said to me, to my mother? Damn you, Murdo. Why can’t you even look at me—the brat of the whore your father fucked?”
“Sweet God Almighty!” The housekeeper crossed herself.
“Joan, see that our guests’ trunks are brought down,” Murdo said.
The housekeeper nodded, then scuttled up the stairs. “Elspeth! Marsaili! Come here this instant!” she cried.
Fists raised, Clara strode toward Murdo, but a hand caught her wrist.
“He’s not worth it, my darling,” Mama said. “He’s not worthanything.”
Murdo’s brother appeared from the dining room. “He’s passed out,” he said. “Help me get him upstairs, will ye?”
“Not now, James,” Murdo said.
At that moment, the crunch of wheels on gravel could be heard outside, and the young man reappeared, panting. “The carriage is ready.”
“I’ll show ye to the parlor where ye can wait until yer trunks are loaded,” the ghillie said.
“We’ll wait in the coach,” Mama said crisply. “I don’t wish to spend another heartbeat in this house.”
The young man led them outside. At the threshold, Clara glanced back at Murdo. A flicker of despair pulsed in his eyes, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might call her back.
