One Night with the Highlander (The Gilvrys of Dunross)

by Lethbridge, Ann

  Gordon cursed softly. “Playing fast and loose with another man’s wife, then?”

  Annabelle let the question slide. “At first I was angry. I took a lover. I hoped jealousy might bring him back to me. Instead, he seemed pleased. Almost relieved. It was horrible. Demeaning. In my anger, I sought more men. Trying to shock him, I think. Instead, I shocked the world. And still he continued as before, meeting his lover in secret. Creeping from the house late at night. Every night. I finally faced him with it and he admitted it was true. “

  “He should never have married you.”

  “Oh no. I needed that marriage. My situation was desperate. Without it Mother and I would have starved. Once Merton and I came to an honest understanding, we rubbed along pretty well. He was always generous and settled a good part of his fortune on me so I would never have to worry about money again.” It had all seemed so simple, that night he’d revealed the truth. “Unfortunately, his family are contesting his will.” She shuddered. “And accusing me of doing away with him for his money.”

  Saying it aloud was like a large cold rock landing on her chest. Fear.

  “But you didna’.”

  It was not a question. His faith in her was heartwarming. Strengthening. She shook her head. “No. I didn’t. There were circumstances, however....” The injustice of it all caught at her breath. Brought a hard lump high in her throat. Tears of anger and frustration. But she had given Merton her word she would never reveal his secrets, in exchange for the money he had settled on her, and because over the years she had grown to love him. Like a brother.

  And he had kept his word. The will had revealed that the settlement he had made on her was vast. It was his heir who was making things difficult. Annabelle took a deep, calming breath. “Still, Merton was not terribly old and his family are suspicious about his death.”

  And that was as close to the truth she dare go, and still keep to her promise.

  “What will you do?” Gordon asked.

  She shrugged. “The coroner has declared it was death by natural causes.”

  “So you have nothing to worry about except gossip?”

  She sighed. “Without the settlement, I have nothing. Less. I went into debt to pay the lawyer to plead my case, but it could go on for years, and I have no more credit.”

  A small hope flickered to life in Gordon’s heart. A tiny spark. He kept his voice cool. “How will you manage?”

  “I’ll have to marry again, I suppose.”

  She spoke matter-of-factly, almost cheerfully, but something inside him knew it was all a front. The spark of hope winked out. “You’ll marry for money.”

  “I don’t have a choice. Mother’s rent is due in a month.”

  “So once again you will shoulder the responsibility.”

  She shrugged.

  “Do you want to be married again?” It was painfully hard to ask the question calmly. Difficult to hide his longing.

  “My wants have nothing to do with it.”

  The urge to offer himself in marriage was overwhelming. He wanted her and this was the way he could keep her. But he couldn’t do it. He could not bear the thought of her marrying him out of necessity. He wanted so much more than that. And if he could not have more, he would prefer nothing but to be of assistance.

  “How much money is required?”

  She sat up, staring at him. “To fight the settlement? A fortune.” She waved a hand. “And I might not win.”

  He did not have a fortune. “How much do you need to live? You and your mother.”

  “Not much, if we were careful, I suppose. Two hundred pounds a year would meet our needs. That is what I tried to negotiate with Merton’s family, a compromise. They must have seen I was desperate, because that’s when they began pressing the authorities to investigate Merton’s death.”

  Two hundred pounds a year. It would take more than half of what Gordon had saved these past five years to produce such a sum annually. It would leave him without sufficient funds to follow through on the purchase of the ship. Leave him working for his father. Something he had come to abhor, as he realized just how far his father was prepared to go to increase the wealth in his coffers.

  “I will make the arrangement first thing in the morning.” It was the only way he could live with himself after hearing her story.

  She pushed away from him to look at his face. “What are you saying?”

  “I am saying I will set up an annuity for you.”

  She leaped from his lap, her face pale, her hands wrapped around her waist. “You want me to become your mistress.”

  His stomach fell away. But why would she not think that? He had dallied with her this night. He had never once spoken of wanting more. And now it was too late to do so. Because she would see it as her duty. “It is a gift.”

  Her eyes were wary. “I don’t understand. Why would do such a thing? You must want something.”

  He wanted her to be happy. To be safe. To be able to marry where she willed for once. The thought she might choose someone else was a dagger to his heart. “For old time’s sake, Annabelle. A gift. Nothing more.”

  The shadows in her eyes fled. There was hope in her face. “You really mean it?”

  He forced himself to breathe around the pain in his heart. The pain of knowing he would never see her again after tonight. And yet there was a sort of quiet satisfaction in knowing he had done something that meant she did not have to marry if she did not want to. “I mean it.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel and forced himself to smile. “What time did you say your coachman would expect you?”

  “Oh, heavens. He is probably out there now.” Her face softened. “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

  “Then don’t,” he said softly. “I don’t need any thanks.” It was enough to have held her for one night in his arms, and to know he had done something to make her happy.

  Something glittered in her eyes. Tears?

  “Annabelle,” he murmured.

  She flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Gordon.” She kissed his lips and they clung together for a moment. He felt her warmth, and her soft curves against him, and in that brief moment he tried to memorise every sensation, every inch of her before he let her go.

  She looked up at him. “Will I see you again?”

  He didn’t know what would be more painful, seeing her again and knowing she did not love him, or not seeing her at all. “Likely not,” he said gruffly.

  “No,” she said, turning away. “No, of course not.”

  He frowned at the odd tone in her voice. Glimpsed her expression in the mirror before she moved away toward the door. “What do you mean, of course not?”

  She looked over her shoulder, surprise in her eyes and a bitter twist to her mouth. “I was wrong to visit your cousin yesterday. I don’t blame you for refusing to have any more to do with me, knowing my story.”

  “Refusing?” He choked on the word. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “My reputation. You must know what the society ladies call me. “

  Stung by her accusation, he glared at her. “You are wrong, lass. That is not why I said we should no meet again. I want you to be free to marry whom you please, when you please, rich or poor. If you must marry, find a good man this time.”

  He pulled on his clothes and strode to the door and opened it, gesturing for her to precede him so they could collect her outer raiment from the other chamber.

  As she passed in front of him, she looked up. “A good man?”

  “Yes,” he muttered, trying not to inhale her scent or to look at her mouth as she smiled at him. It was far too tempting a mouth. He wanted to kiss her. To make her melt into him. To tell her... But then she would feel obligated. And he could not bear that.

  “There is n
o better man than you, Gordon.”

  He stared at her, drowning in her secrets. “I do not want your gratitude.”

  “It is not gratitude.”

  “What else would it be?”

  She took a deep breath and paused, then shook her head as if changing her mind about what she would say. “Then ignore it, if you wish. But it is there all the same.”

  His heart stilled, then stumbled into an unsteady rhythm. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them she was still looking up at him. “I do not want to lose you,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “I love you. All these years, I regretted not saying so that night. But I didna have the right. I was young. I had no means of supporting a wife. And when I heard you had married...” He swallowed. “Well, I thought perhaps it was nothing but youthful attraction. But somehow I never found another woman who touched my heart the way you did.”

  “And here was me, marrying one husband after another.” Her voice had a sharp edge. She picked up her cloak.

  He didn’t want her to go. Not when he had the feeling there was something going on. Something she wasn’t telling him. “What choice did you have?”

  “None.” She shook her head. “None at all. But there were other men. Too many to recall. They were my choice. But none of them ever filled the emptiness I felt after you left.”

  Finally, the heart of the matter. Relief swamped him. Made him reckless. He caught her and swung her around. “Marry me.” The words were out before he could think about it.

  The way her eyes sparkled for a moment made him think she would say yes. Then she averted her face. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Why not?”

  She kept her face turned away. “My reputation. I wish I was not so tainted by it all, but I am. I shouldn’t even be taking your money. Indeed, I should refuse it. I must. I don’t deserve that you should help me. I...” She broke off with something that sounded like a sob.

  Heart in his throat, he lifted one hand to her jaw, gently turned her face so he could look into her eyes, and saw pain. “You what, Annabelle? What? Tell me.”

  She blinked. A tear clung to her lashes, sparkling in the light from the candles. “I love you too much to let my mistakes spoil your life.”

  “You love me.” He felt as if fireworks had exploded inside his chest. Pain. Joy. Light. “Are you saying you love me?”

  “Too well. I should not have come here tonight. Telling you my troubles. It wasn’t right.” She tried to pull away.

  “Sweetheart. Beloved. Stop.” With a shaking hand he brushed away the tears from her cheeks. “I gave you the money freely. So you could choose the life you want. Whether it was with me or someone else. But Annabelle, you no longer have a choice.” He could not keep the possessive note from his voice. “You say you love me. Therefore, you will marry me, for I, too, have loved you all this time.” The words surprised him. A little. But they came from the depths of his being and he knew them for truth. “I loved you the first moment I saw you. I admit I have not lived like a monk, my darling, but I have never for a moment felt for any women what I feel for you.”

  She collapsed against him as if her limbs had suddenly become too weak to support her weight, and he held her, gladly. Gradually her breathing calmed and she steadied. She gazed up at him and there was wonder in her face. And the love he’d seen that long-ago starlit night. “Are you sure?” she whispered.

  “Aye, love. I am sure. Marry me and come to America. We’ll start afresh. It has only ever been you, leannán. Always. Come away with me, my love.”

  And she melted against him. Relaxed in his arms, trust a shining, glittering thing between them. Threw her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Finally, he could bear to break away from her and look into her face. He stroked her glorious mane of hair, gazing down into her lovely eyes. “Let us forget the past and together forge the future.”

  She hesitated and his gut clenched. “Before you make up your mind, there is one thing I have to tell you. About Merton. The reason the authorities are investigating his death.”

  Ice ran through Gordon’s veins at the fear in her voice. “I don’t care what you have done, lass. We will go to America, and hang the authorities.”

  A small smile curved her lips, but the worry remained in her eyes. “I trust you to tell no one this.”

  Trust. That he liked. And he wanted to shoulder her troubles. He nodded.

  “Merton’s lover’s name was Albert.”

  Shocked, Gordon stared at her. “Your husband was...”

  “Merton was good to me. I won’t hear a word against him. Nor will I expose him to ridicule.”

  Loyal to a fault. She said she had loved the man like a brother. Gordon wanted her love and loyalty, too. Badly. “It will be as you wish.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “Merton died in Albert’s bed. The poor man could have been arrested. Hung. But he didn’t care about that. It was the stain to Merton’s character that had him in tears when he came to beg my help. I had my servants bring Merton home. I think we were seen. There is no proof of a crime, but Merton’s family are furious that I sold the jewels he gave me to fight them. They will do their best to find some way to hurt me.”

  Gordon had sworn to put the past behind them, and so they would. “Verra well. Then let us make use of that coachman of yours and find a priest to wed us right away. And then, as soon as I have safely delivered Lady Jenna to Carrick, we catch the first ship to America.”

  A worried look crossed Annabelle’s face. “And my mother?”

  He thought about it for a moment. So it would take longer to achieve his plans. With Annabelle at his side, he didn’t care how long it took. “There is a man I know who might be persuaded to go into partnership wi’ me. To make up the shortfall. So she can either come with us or she can stay in her cottage. Whatever she decides, I will support her financially.”

  “You would do that for me?” Annabelle seemed almost astonished.

  “My dear heart, I would do anything for you.”

  This time the love shone from her eyes, bright and pure and clear. “And I for you.”

  He grinned at her. “First we marry, then, my own dear heart, I will prove just how much I love you.”

  He kissed her soundly and knew he had finally found exactly what he had always needed. Annabelle.

  * * * * *

  Discover more sensual Scottish romance in Ann Lethbridge’s In Bed with the Highlander, available now!

  Hotel Glencovie, 2013

  Researching her family tree brings Moirag McLellan to the Highlands and a foreboding castle-turned-hotel. She goes to sleep alone surrounded by modern amenities, but awakens in a room lit only by candles—and occupied by a gorgeous kilted man. And he’s far too real to be just an erotic dream...

  Glencovie Castle, 1715

  Though Gavin MacIver doesn’t know how the lusty wench in barely-there clothing came to be in his bed, he knows he never wants her to leave. But if her story of time-travel is true, how can he stop the only woman he’s ever loved from slipping through his fingers once darkness fades into dawn?

  Enjoy more passion through the ages with the sensual Harlequin Historical UNDONE titles on sale now:

  One Night with the Highlander by Ann Lethbridge

  How to Seduce a Sheikh by Marguerite Kaye

  Bewitched by His Kiss by Barbara Monajem

  In Bed with the Highlander by Ann Lethbridge

  The Magic of His Touch by Barbara Monajem

  Unveiled for the Persian King by Linda Skye

  Lost in Pleasure by Marguerite Kaye

  Submit to the Warrior by Tatiana March

  His Wild West Wife by Lauri Robinson

  Craving something a little longer? Find more historical romantic adventure from Harlequin Historical at

>   http://www.Harlequin.com or your local bookstore.

  Interested in writing for Harlequin Historical UNDONE? Send your submission to undone@harlequin.ca.

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  ISBN: 9781460314302

  Copyright © 2013 by Michèle Ann Young

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