Page 1 of Tempting the Earl

Chapter One

May 1818

Somewhere near the village of Blackshaw

Dumfriesshire, Scotland

The carriage bounced over another deep rut, jolting its sole passenger despite the plushly cushioned seats. With a muttered oath, Colin Fitzhugh, seventh Earl of Wright, tilted his head to glance disdainfully out the window at the passing scenery. If he hadn’t been traveling for a week already and wasn’t fully beyond any enjoyment of the endeavor, he might have appreciated the sloped hills rising and falling all about, the gnarled old trees lining the rugged country lane, and the scent of earth and grass and rain that filled the spring air.

As it was, the earl had had quite enough of the rural backdrop, lovely though Dumfriesshire might be. Impatience wasn’t a common characteristic of his nature, but he’d held off on this little journey far longer than he’d intended. If he’d had his way from the start, he’d have traveled to Scotland and home again to London last autumn.

If, that is, any of his letters had ever been answered.

He tried to be generous and consider the possibility his letter of introduction and the three—no, four—letters which had followed might not have reached their intended recipient. But he sincerely doubted that was the case.

He’d hired the mysterious man known only as Nightshade several months ago now. The man for hire had come highly recommended as someone who accomplished a wide range of impossible tasks. Discreetly. For a rather precious fee.

And Colin hadn’t been disappointed.

The man was so discreet, Colin had never even met him face-to-face. Nightshade always sent his man, a Mr. Davies, to handle any direct meetings. The only information Colin had been able to provide the investigator had come from brief details documented many years ago in his father’s journals. Yet, Nightshade had come through with surprising efficiency, providing a succinct and definitive report.

Miss Davina Claybourne, b. 1789 to Mary and Angus Claybourne in the village of Kyleakin on the Isle of Skye, Inner Hebrides, Scotland. Mary died shortly after giving birth.

The sixth Earl of Wright visited Kyleakin in the summer of 1806.

On November 2, 1806, Angus Claybourne’s fourth cousin Sir Robert Morgan died with no male issue, transferring his wealth and holdings, as well as the guardianship of his sixteen-year-old daughter, Ainsworth Morgan, to Angus. Within a few weeks, Angus and Davina took up residence in Rosmuir Hall near Moffit, Dumfriesshire, Scotland.

There are very few accounts of Davina Claybourne after her departure from Skye in November 1806 until the registration of her death on March 3, 1807, at the age of eighteen from complications of premature labor and childbirth.

The illegitimate birth of Cailleach Davina Claybourne was registered on March 2, 1807.

In late April, 1811, at the age of twenty-one, Miss Ainsworth Morgan petitioned for and was awarded the early release of her inheritance which included a modest property passed down through her late mother’s family. Miss Cailleach Claybourne accompanied Miss Morgan to Faeglen Cottage in southern Dumfriesshire near the village of Blackshaw and resides there with her as of the date of this report, 21 of September 1817.

Cailleach Davina Claybourne. His half sister, currently eleven years old.

His stomach clenched with an odd mixture of dread and anticipation.

Having grown up in a household darkened by his father’s cruelty and vengeance, Colin had spent a great deal of his youth imagining what it might be like to have siblings. For a time, he’d convinced himself that the miseries wrought by his obsessive father might have been tolerable if he’d simply not been so alone in his torment. As he matured, he’d realized the selfishness of such a wish. He’d never hope for the pain of what he’d endured to be inflicted upon anyone else.

He’d been a young man and already somewhat distanced from his father when he’d first learned he had an illegitimate brother not much younger than himself. Though a feeling similar to the hope of his childhood had urged him to seek out the other young man, social interactions of any kind tended to be difficult for him and he’d never gathered the courage to do so. The first time they’d unexpectedly encountered each other, the resentment in his half brother’s expression had made it very clear he had no desire to acknowledge their connection. Understanding and respecting the other man’s position, Colin made a point of giving his brother a wide berth any time their paths did happen to cross.

Until recently, that is.

Colin had been the earl for more than a year when he’d decided to read his late father’s journals. Within them, he’d discovered Roderick Bentley wasn’t the only child his father had sired outside the bonds of marriage.

Finally seeing in his father’s own words, the lengths he’d gone to in order to satisfy his hunger for vengeance had been shocking. But it had also served as a catalyst. Once he’d learned of the children his father had sired and abandoned, he hadn’t been able to just ignore their existence.

With his father dead and Colin now the earl, he finally had the power and the means to change the legacy of hatred and destruction his parents had created.

Starting with Roderick, he’d carefully but persistently begun the process of mending the wounds rendered by their father. And he wasn’t going to stop until he’d healed them all. He had no doubts the way would be difficult and painful. For everyone. Roderick’s initial resistance and the anger he still harbored toward their common sire helped to prepare Colin to expect his siblings to have very strong feelings about the man who’d never fulfilled his role as father. An attitude that might also flow to Colin by extension as the prior earl’s only legitimate child. But he hoped—he believed—the end result would be worth it.

Creating a legacy built on compassion and loyalty to family regardless of how unconventionally it might be formed was worth it.

And a handful of letters gone unanswered and a trip to the Scottish Lowlands certainly weren’t going to deter him.

If the innkeeper in Dumfries had been correct in his rather ambiguous directions, Colin should expect to reach Faeglen Cottage within the next fifteen minutes.

Just as he had the thought, his carriage slowed and took a decisive left turn, leading them off the main rural lane onto an even smaller, bumpier drive. After several more minutes and countless teeth-rattling ruts and twisting turns, the carriage rolled to a slow stop. His groom opened the door and Colin did not hesitate to step to the ground. Despite whatever personal trepidation he might be feeling about meeting his young sister for the first time, he would not prevaricate now that he was finally here. The matter was simply too important.

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