by Dare, Lydia
“No.” Cait shook her head. He was wrong. “Mama told me that as soon as she saw ye, she kent ye were hers.”
“Love at first sight,” he agreed, patting her leg. “But she never could see my destiny.”
Cait gaped at her father, and the room started to spin just a bit. This didn’t make any sense at all. “Are ye certain?”
That seemed a rather important thing her mother left out of her training.
He chuckled. “Aye, lass, I ken for certain.”
“Well, why no’?” Cait asked, sure that she was missing some vital detail that would make everything clear.
Her father shrugged his shoulders. “I’m no’ sure. And there are no texts ta explain it. We always assumed it was because I was the one who was meant for her. And that what transpired between us was destined ta be natural and no’ forced by any visions. A marriage couldna survive one member always bein’ angry with the other one for things he hadna even done yet.”
Cait ignored the wisdom in that, because it just wasn’t fair. For years, she’d been waiting to meet the man she would marry. She wanted to see their whole happy life displayed before her when she first laid eyes on the man. She saw everyone else’s futures, good and bad. She should get a glimpse into her own.
“The man canna possibly be meant for me,” she whispered.
“I beg to differ on that,” a deep voice said from the doorway. She turned to find Dashiel Thorpe standing there, looking just as delectable as he had when he’d left her. And with his Lycan hearing, he’d heard each and every one of her father’s comments. She groaned aloud.
Findlay frantically tried to block Dash as he stepped into the room, but the butler failed miserably. “I told his lordship I’d announce him, but apparently he had a mind of his own.”
“A mind of his own, ye say?” Cait’s father remarked as he crossed the room and accepted Dash’s outstretched hand. “It’s a very good thing when yer mind can be yer own. Particularly when ye have someone like Cait around.”
She wasn’t quite certain she liked the way her father said that.
“Dashiel Thorpe, the Earl of Brimsworth, heir to the Marquess of Eynsford,” Dash introduced himself, full of pomp and circumstance, as he offered a slight bow.
Her father’s smile vanished a bit. “Ah, English, are ye?”
“I’m afraid so,” Dash replied with a mock frown. “Your beautiful daughter berated me over that fact all the way from Hampshire. Until I met Caitrin Macleod, I had no idea that I needed to apologize for my nationality.”
Her father laughed at that. “An Englishman with a sense of humor. How novel. Tell me, Lord Brimsworth, what brings ye ta Edinburgh?”
“Well, sir, I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand.”
A squeak escaped Cait’s throat. She nearly swallowed her tongue. First he abandoned her and then, with no warning, appeared out of nowhere asking for her hand? When she got her hands on his neck…
“I see,” her father continued. “And where are ye stayin’ in town?”
Dash shook his head. “We were racing so fast to get here, sir. I haven’t had time to give it much thought. Is there a nice inn you can recommend?”
Her father seemed to study Dash with his astute eyes. “Did ye truly travel all the way from Hampshire with my daughter?”
Cait gulped, remembering one moment of impropriety after another she’d experienced at Dash’s hands along the Great North Road. She turned away to hide the blush she was sure crept up her cheeks. Heaven help her if her father ever learned of her indiscretions.
“Well, most of the way,” Dash amended. “We were separated a few days after I was given a particularly potent sleeping draught. And then again when I had to go in search of a friend.”
“A friend,” Cait echoed. Some whore from his little book, no doubt.
But her father ignored her words, focusing instead on Dash’s story. “Ye doona make potions,” he flung at Cait.
“I made an exception.” She glared at Dash. How dare he bring that up? And how dare he abandon her to search out some trollop in Glasgow?
Her father chuckled again. “Well, in that case, Lord Brimsworth, ye probably should remain here as our guest.”
Over Cait’s dead body.
“Thank you, sir,” Dash replied, and he sounded so sincere she almost believed him.
Her father scoffed as though the offer was nothing. “It is the least I can do ta thank ye for seein’ my Caitrin home safe ta me.”
“Safely?” Cait scoffed. “Only if ye consider him abandonin’ me before the border as seein’ me safely home.”
Dash’s amber eyes flashed to hers, and Cait’s breath caught in her throat. Then he turned his attention back to her father. “Your offer is very generous, sir, but I have a friend who traveled with me,” Dash started.
Cait was certain her face was aflame. He’d brought some lightskirt to her home?
Mr. Macleod waved Dash into silence.
“Yer friend is welcome as well.”
“And if it’s not too much of an imposition,” Dash continued, “I would like the opportunity to speak with you privately.” He said the last quietly.
“I should think so, after ye traveled that far with my daughter.”
“Papa!” Cait’s cheeks were on fire. She was in the room. She wanted to crawl under the settee and die of embarrassment. But it wouldn’t do her any good to leave the two of them to plot her future. It was hers, and she should get some say in it. “Would ye mind giving me a few minutes alone with his lordship?”
Her father’s gaze raked across her, as though he was looking for something vital. “Ye want ta be alone with the earl? The same man, if I’m no’ mistaken, ye drugged ta be rid of somewhere along the way?”
Cait nodded once.
“Well, after spendin’ so much time with his lordship, I doona see what harm a few more minutes alone could do.” Then her father started for the door and looked back over his shoulder at Dash. “I’ll have Findlay take yer things ta one of the guest rooms.”
“Thank you, Mr. Macleod.”
“Doona thank me until after we’ve had our private conversation, my lord.”
Then he was gone, leaving Cait alone with Dash. And now that she had him all to herself, she wasn’t certain what to say to him. He took the choice from her, however, when he said, “Excuse me for just a moment.”
Twenty-Two
Dash couldn’t understand why Caitrin was frowning at him. He’d only stepped away for a moment to ask Mr. Forster how to proceed. The old shipbuilder had smiled, patted Dash on the back, and hastily whispered some words in his ear.
She was the one keeping secrets and, from the sounds of them, they were fairly large ones. He hadn’t put all the pieces together yet, and he wasn’t quite sure what the pieces made, but he was starting to connect them.
He didn’t want to dwell on that too much, however. Mr. Macleod liked him. It was a coup he hadn’t even dared hope for. Now, if he could just get Cait to smile at him again, everything would be perfect. Just seeing her soothed his soul, and listening to Forster’s instruction would be much easier if he knew Cait would accept him.
Dash crossed the room to where she sat on a small settee and reached for her hand. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist. She fit so perfectly there that he couldn’t help but grin. How he’d missed holding her.
But Cait’s frown deepened. Dash sighed at the sight. “What’s wrong, angel?”
Her light eyes bored into his. “After ye left me by the side of the road, ye show up out of nowhere. And now ye’re goin’ ta ask him for my hand.”
“As soon as possible,” he agreed.
“And he’ll say yes.”
“That is good to know.”
Cait swatted at his chest. “I doona ken what I think about it, and I do wish ye wouldna act so smug about the situation.”
He winked at her. “I can’t seem to help it. You know that’s what I’ve w
anted since the very first day.”
“No, I think ye wanted ta gobble me up the very first day.”
He laughed, so relieved that he wasn’t doomed to a life without her. “No, lass, that was the first night. The very first day, I wanted to marry you.”
She stalked away from him. “Ye ken what I meant. I doona want ye ta stay here. Go ta the Thistle and Thorn. That’s where Benjamin stayed. Findlay can give yer man directions. It’s nice and clean and…”
Dash felt the levity drain from him. “Don’t push me away, Caitie. I’ve traveled so long and so hard to get here—”
“I dinna ask ye ta come.”
“But I came anyway because you’re my intended mate,” he growled. “I know it. You know it. Even your father knows it. So stop being difficult.”
He hadn’t meant to sound so cranky, but it had been a long forty-eight hours, first running across four counties, then suffering through four hours of lectures on being one with his inner beast. And now that Dash was so close to getting all that he wanted, she was telling him to leave.
“Go ahead and bare yer teeth at me, Dashiel Thorpe. I’m no’ afraid of ye. And I’m in no mood for this. I spent the last two days thinkin’ that one of my dearest friends lay dead because I wasna here ta keep her out of the danger. I’m exhausted and drained, and I doona want ta do this right now.”
That didn’t make any sense to Dash at all, though he could see the anguish in her pretty eyes. “Caitie, we don’t have to do this right now. But I am staying here. Your father has asked me to, and I‘m accepting his offer.”
“Doona ask him for my hand,” she said softly.
“Why the devil not?” He felt his temper start to rise, and his blood began to simmer.
“Because I doona ken what I want.”
Dash’s heart sank. She was refusing him, and he hadn’t even asked yet. “I know I’m a bit wild,” he confessed. “But, I’m working on that. That’s why I had to go to Glasgow.”
He didn’t even know what he was until a month ago. He’d always been told he was a monster. Chained up during every full moon, save the last one, to protect others from him. Maybe if she understood, it would be different. Then again, maybe not. And he couldn’t risk it. He was doomed without her.
“I’ll have that talk with your father, Cait. And I’ll ask him for your hand.”
She pursed her lips. “It willna do ye any good. I willna marry ye. No matter what. No’ now.”
Dash gritted his teeth. Why did the lass have to be so difficult? He knew she was glad to see him, he could tell it the moment he walked into the study.
“Don’t be too sure about that.” He started for the door. Hopefully, Mr. Forster would have some advice about how to go on from here.
***
Cait slumped back down on her father’s settee. She was certain her heart was breaking. And she was so confused. She wanted Dashiel Thorpe in so many ways, and she’d missed him desperately, but she didn’t know what to make of him.
He was charming, then infuriating. Kind, then domineering. How was she to spend her life with a man she could never read? And what exactly was so important about Glasgow? He never did say.
On top of all that, the insufferable lout refused to give her time even to think about the situation, insisting on speaking with her father immediately. And he still hadn’t asked her to marry him. During their travels, he told her she would marry him, and now that they were in Edinburgh, he was behaving the same way.
Well, she wasn’t going to bind herself for life to a man who didn’t trust her enough to give the matter some thought.
Cait rose from her seat and held her head high. No matter what her father thought, she had to convince him not to accept Dash’s offer. She opened the door, prepared to go in search of her father, but found him in the hallway.
Jeannie was at his feet, tears pouring down her face. “I tried ta stop her, Mr. Macleod, but she wouldna listen ta me. And I ken he spent the night in her room more than once along the way.”
Cait sucked in a mortified breath. Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever imagined that Jeannie would go running to her father. That she would betray her in such a way. How had she not seen it?
She watched her father’s eyes move from Jeannie’s heaving form to land directly on her. His face was hardened, like stone. She’d never seen such a fierce look in his eyes before.
“Doona worry, Jeannie,” he said, keeping his eyes level on Cait. “Tomorrow Lord Brimsworth and Caitrin have an appointment with Mr. Crawford.”
Mr. Crawford? The vicar? If Cait was the fainting sort, she would have swooned right there. Even still, all she was capable of was gasping.
“Papa!” she pleaded.
“Society has rules, Caitrin. And even ye have ta follow them. I suggest ye find yer earl. We’ll be havin’ that private conversation now instead of later.”
She gulped.
“And ta keep talk down, ye better start sendin’ out invitations. It will keep ye busy while I discuss matters with his lordship.”
“But, I’d planned ta be there when ye had yer talk with him,” she protested.
“I have some things I need ta say ta his lordship that ye willna be a part of,” he snapped. “I’ve let ye have yer way most of yer life, Caitrin. But, in this, I will have my way.” He motioned for her to pass. “Go ta yer room.”
“But, Papa…” She let the words die in her throat as she saw the stormy look on his face.
“Now!” he snapped.
Caitrin turned and ran down the corridor toward the stairs. She heard her father call for Findlay and say, “Find his lordship and bring him ta my study.” Then the heavy oak door slammed shut.
***
Dash settled into the chair across from Cait’s father and took a deep breath. In all his life, he never would have expected to be as nervous as a scolded puppy when he asked for a woman’s hand. He hadn’t felt like this at all when he’d asked for Prisca Hawthorne’s hand. He’d been all full of pomp and pride.
Now, he had none whatsoever. His fate was in the hands of this man. Well, sort of. He could always throw Caitrin over his shoulder and make off with her. And no one would ever be able to stop him. Aside from Mr. Forster. He was Lycan, after all.
But there was a part of him that really wanted to do this right. He wanted to ask for her hand and be accepted because he proved to her father that he could take care of her. And he always would. He didn’t doubt that a bit.
“Do ye love my daughter?” Mr. Macleod boomed as he strode toward the sideboard to pour a drink.
Dash cleared his throat quickly and said, “Yes, sir, I do.” If anyone had ever foretold that he would be purging his soul to this man, he’d have taken them to Bedlam himself. But Mr. Forster had told him to tell the truth.
Mr. Macleod held out a tumbler of liquid, and Dash took it, noting that his hand trembled a bit. He snorted at his own situation.
“A bit dauntin’, is it?”
“Well, you’ve yet to approve of my proposal, sir,” Dash admitted. “You hold my future in your hands.”
“What would ye do if I said no?” The man sat back and narrowed his gaze at Dash.
“I’d like to say that I’d accept your decision. But I’d be lying, sir,” Dash answered with all sincerity.
The man fought back a grin, Dash could tell.
“What do ye love about her?” Mr. Macleod asked as he rummaged absently in a drawer. “Her pleasantness? Her desire to please? Her selfless acts of goodwill?”
“Honestly, sir?” Dash asked. Then waited for Mr. Macleod to nod. “She’s obstinate and obnoxious as the devil. And I haven’t seen much of her goodwill.”
“Then it’s her beauty, ye love?”
“That certainly helps,” Dash admitted. He was going about this poorly. The frown on Mr. Macleod’s face was evidence of that.
“My daughter is no’ easy ta get along with.”
“I’m aware of that. But, sir, I bel
ieve you’re being a bit harsh. She’s beautiful. But she also has a good heart, and I believe she’s the other half of me.”
“Do ye, now? I was wonderin’ if it was just that she let ye sleep in her room during yer travels that made ye fall in love with her.”
After a moment, Dash realized his mouth hung wide open, and he managed to close it.
“Dinna think I was aware of ye defilin’ my daughter?”
“I never did—” Dash began.
But the older man cut him off. “Her maid informed me that ye slept in her room on more than one occasion. I dinna raise her ta be free with her favors. But I also may have neglected ta teach her about men such as yerself.”
Dash jumped to his feet. He wouldn’t let anyone assume the worst of Cait, even if it was her father. “I did sleep in her room, sir, but only because she had need of me.”
“All women need ye, do they, my lord?”
Dash pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to push back the ache in his head that was slowly building. This had been much easier when he’d done it with Prisca Hawthorne’s father. And when he’d practiced with Mr. Forster in the coach.
“Her maid snuck out every night to go and lay with your coachman, leaving Caitrin alone,” Dash finally growled.
Mr. Macleod’s eyes narrowed. “Continue.” He steepled his hands in front of him.
“And during the night, I could hear her crying through the walls. I’m not sure why, Mr. Macleod, but my presence seemed to bring her peace.”
Her father frowned slightly. “Those sorts of places can be very hard on her at times,” he conceded.
At least the man was aware of the problem, “Honestly, sir, I went to her to soothe her. Not to defile her.”
“And did ye? Soothe her?”
“Yes.”
“I doona ken if I should be angry at the fact ye soothed her ta begin with or if I should be amazed at the fact that she took comfort with ye. She’s typically a solitary soul, aside from her circle of friends.”
Dash shrugged and sank back into the chair, then picked up his tumbler of liquor. “My intentions were noble.”