My Highland Rogue

by Karen Ranney

  Nothing at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jennifer gave orders for tea to be delivered to the Mackenzie Parlor, named after a friend of the family several generations ago. All she truly wanted to do was remain in her rooms, but Mr. Campbell had asked her to meet with him. Why, she didn’t know, she only hoped that their meeting would quickly be over.

  She hoped Mr. Campbell didn’t want to talk about Harrison. She had no influence over . . . Her thoughts stumbled to a halt. He wasn’t her brother, was he? Even so, she didn’t have any influence over Harrison. No one did.

  She’d chosen this room because the Mackenzie Parlor was distant enough from the rest of the public rooms that they wouldn’t be disturbed.

  “Lady Jennifer?”

  She looked up to find Mr. Campbell standing in the doorway. She smiled her welcome as he entered the room. Surprisingly, Lauren followed him and behind her was the nursemaid with little Mary.

  Lauren sat on the end of the sofa, opposite the chair where Jennifer was seated.

  “This is your first outing,” Jennifer said. “How was it?”

  Lauren smiled. “Other than the staircase, it was fine. I shall have to take my time with the stairs, however.”

  She hadn’t been as good a hostess as she should have been in the past two days, preferring to stay in her room rather than see anyone. However, good manners dictated that she push her own grief to the side for a little while. She had the rest of her life to think about Gordon’s words.

  When she asked Mr. Campbell about his recent trip to the United States, he surprised her by being an excellent storyteller. He told of visiting Niagara Falls, and how he wanted to expand his travels to see the Grand Canyon.

  Harrison entered the room and Mr. Campbell’s story stopped, long enough for the older man to send him a look of barely veiled contempt. Lauren wouldn’t glance in her husband’s direction at all.

  What had happened in the past two days?

  Mr. Campbell concluded with a comment about how young the United States felt. “Everything is new. I find that I miss the history there.”

  History was one thing Adaire Hall had in abundance.

  “If you have any time today and would like to see more of the Hall, I’d be happy to show it to you.”

  “Thank you, Lady Jennifer, but I’m afraid our plans will prevent that.”

  He and Lauren shared a look, one that excluded Harrison.

  Something had most definitely happened, but since she’d retreated to her rooms, she didn’t know what.

  Mr. Campbell had a great deal of tact, and for that she was thankful. He hadn’t asked her how she was feeling in front of Lauren. She’d realized she was grieving, but that grief was never quickly eased. She’d gotten a taste of that with her mother’s death.

  The rest of the staff thought that she had been suffering from a bad cold, one that sent her to bed. The tale of her illness hadn’t been enough, however, to stop the parade of people from coming to her door. Mrs. Farmer, bless her, had proven to be a godsend in sending people packing.

  What a pity that she’d left Adaire Hall to care for another patient this morning.

  Harrison hadn’t spoken a word since he’d entered the room. He’d studied them all in turn as if they were strangers. Jennifer had seen that look before, and it meant that Harrison was spoiling for a fight.

  She wasn’t up to a skirmish with him.

  “You’ve lost your bridegroom, Jennifer. McDonnell left, if I’m not mistaken.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “I’m glad you came to your senses and obeyed me.”

  She’d never been a violent person, but if she’d had anything at hand, she would have chucked it at him. Thankfully, he didn’t continue talking about Gordon.

  “I’m returning to London,” he said flatly.

  His announcement had an effect on all of them. Lauren simply stared at her husband. Mary began to cry. Mr. Campbell’s face took on the appearance of a thundercloud. No one looking at him could have any doubt as to his feelings on the matter. He was incensed.

  As for her, Harrison’s words made her plans impossible.

  Adaire Hall only had two carriages, one for the family to use and the other that Harrison took to London with him. Since Ellen had brought him home, there was only one remaining carriage.

  If Harrison was intent on going back to London, that would trap her here.

  “I’ve already made arrangements,” Jennifer said, aggravated that Harrison had forced her to make the announcement like this. “I’ve sent word to Ellen that I’m coming for a visit. As soon as I arrive in Edinburgh, I’ll send the carriage back. Surely you could wait a few days.”

  “No,” Harrison said. “I can’t. I choose not to be inconvenienced, Jennifer.”

  A different person might have asked why she was traveling to Edinburgh so precipitously, but Harrison never cared about anyone else’s plans, especially if they interfered with his.

  “It will only be a matter of days, Harrison. That will give you time with Lauren and Mary.”

  “I’ve already told you, Jennifer. I have no intention of being dictated to by you.”

  “I would think that someone would want to dictate to you, Burfield. Your manners are deplorable.” Hamish turned to his daughter. “I bought you a pig in a poke, my darling girl. Forgive me, and I hope you’ll note that I blame myself for this disaster of a marriage.”

  He stared at Harrison. “I’m taking my daughter back to Edinburgh, Burfield.”

  He turned to Jennifer. “Begging your pardon, Lady Jennifer. You have a lovely home here, and I’m sure its history is impressive. It’s Lauren’s husband—or whatever label he chooses to call himself—that I find objectionable. When Lauren’s mother was alive, I didn’t go out of my way to absent myself from my wife. I didn’t live in another city in another country in order to avoid her or my responsibilities. I cannot countenance my daughter being treated with such contempt.”

  Mr. Campbell came and stood beside the sofa, extending an arm to his daughter to help her rise.

  “You are welcome to travel back to Edinburgh with us, Lady Jennifer. In view of the recent developments we’ll be leaving in the morning. Is that acceptable to you?”

  She nodded, shocked by the turn of events.

  Lauren didn’t say a word. Nor did the young nursemaid whose eyes had gotten as wide as dinner plates. Even baby Mary had decided to stop crying. Jennifer watched as they walked out of the room in a slow procession before turning to Harrison.

  “Are you truly that much of an idiot, Harrison? Are you willing to let your wife leave and take your child with her?”

  He only shrugged.

  “It’s not a good idea to make an enemy of Mr. Campbell. He’s a powerful man.”

  “There’s nothing he can do to me.”

  “Do you really believe that he couldn’t hurt you if he wished? You aren’t the most important person in the world. Although you might be the most arrogant.”

  “I think this is your doing, bitch. You’ve soured Lauren against me.”

  “I haven’t done anything, Harrison. This is all your doing. Or did you think that no one would ever call you to account for your actions? Believe it or not, you’re not better than the rest of us. You’re a deluded, demented human being. One day soon everything you have will be taken away from you.”

  “What are you talking about?

  She only shook her head. She had no intention of telling him Gordon’s story. Let him hear it in a courtroom. Or however something like that would be resolved. Would the Queen need to be involved? Gordon would discover that.

  As she stood there, staring at Harrison, she realized that only one good thing had come from Betty’s actions. Harrison was not her brother. She needn’t claim him as a relative.

  Nor would she, after today.

  Chapter Thirty

  For Gordon, life in London was not appreciably better than anywhere else.

 
He’d been back in the city for a number of days, but he might as well have been at Adaire Hall. He couldn’t escape his thoughts. Nor was it possible for him to banish the memories that followed him wherever he went.

  How did you kill love?

  He didn’t have it in him to think of Jennifer as a sister. Not when he’d held her and kissed her and had thoughts that were a sight more carnal. He’d wanted her to be his wife, to share the rest of his future.

  With his words, Sean had taken from him the only woman he’d ever loved.

  How did he overcome that kind of loss?

  The only way he knew how to handle the tumult of his thoughts was by keeping busy. He immersed himself in his businesses, purchased another building on the outskirts of London, and finalized the purchase of land over which he’d haggled for a few months. He met with a potential manager, solved countless complaints, and resolved two important employee issues all while managing to hold off Maggie and her insatiable curiosity.

  They’d already argued a few times about what she considered his stubborn refusal to tell her everything that had transpired in Scotland.

  “I knew it was a mistake to let you go to Scotland alone.”

  He stared at her. “What do you mean, let me go? Since when do I report to you, Maggie?”

  “You evidently don’t have any sense when it comes to that woman, Gordon.”

  His words were very calm and measured. “And what woman would that be?”

  “You know who I’m talking about.”

  “My correspondence is none of your concern, Maggie. I pay you to manage the Mayfair Club, which you do quite well. I don’t pay you to manage me.”

  She wasn’t the least bit perturbed by his irritation.

  “Something happened in Scotland. You’re not the same person. You’ve been short with everyone, Gordon.”

  “I will attempt to have a more pleasant demeanor, for your sake, Maggie.”

  She only narrowed her eyes at him.

  He’d told her about Sean’s death when he returned. Consequently, she smothered him with compassion, making him feel a little guilty. She’d brought him a plate of scones, fetched him tea, and proceeded to cluck over him like a mother hen. He allowed that for a few days before deciding that it would just be easier to avoid her.

  Unfortunately, that was proving more difficult every day.

  One of the reasons he’d always valued Maggie was her unflagging loyalty. However, she also possessed a frankness that could occasionally be brutal. He wouldn’t list that among her assets.

  On the morning of the fourth day after he had returned to London, she entered his office at the Mayfair Club, planted her fists on her hips, and glared at him.

  “It’s time we talked.”

  “What about?”

  “About what’s wrong with you.”

  Standing, he walked around his desk and stood at the window, looking down at the London street.

  This Pall Mall location was a prime one and had cost him in rent. Yet the Mayfair Club had turned a profit from the very beginning. Nor did it look like it was going to stop being a moneymaker anytime soon. The young peers to whom he catered found it amusing to belong to a club that wouldn’t automatically welcome their fathers. Here there was no heritage membership, no legacy extended simply because your father, uncle, or grandfather had joined. He’d deliberately crafted the rules of the club that way.

  Being around Harrison had taught him about autocracy and the arrogance of a young man with a title and enough money to do damage.

  He glanced at Maggie. “Has Burfield returned?”

  They’d already spoken about her refusing Harrison additional credit. He’d commended her for her decision and given her a bonus for her actions. If the wife or a mother of a member ever came to them in distress, he wanted it known that he would do what he could to help them.

  She nodded. “Yes, two days ago.”

  “Cut him off. Rescind his membership. Send word that he isn’t to be granted admittance. If it’s a public ban, all the better.”

  “Is that wise, rescinding his membership?” Her look of surprise wasn’t unexpected.

  “I’d like it done as soon as possible.”

  “He spends a great deal of money here, Gordon.”

  “He loses a great deal of money here, Maggie. I’ve decided to call a halt to it.”

  “Then what about Peterson? And the Duke of Luton? They’re both as profligate as Burfield.”

  “I don’t care about them right now.”

  He didn’t look at her again, but she was probably frowning at him. Maggie was a money person. She understood, as well as he, what it took to run the Mayfair Club.

  If one of the young peers was insulted, he could do a lot of damage to their hopes of increasing membership. However, he knew that Harrison was as obnoxious to his acquaintances and friends—if he had any—as he was to his family. He doubted that banning him would have a detrimental effect to the club.

  “Is this a result of going to Scotland, too?”

  He returned to his desk. He’d made this office his base of operations because he knew that Maggie would leave him alone to work. However, that hadn’t proven to be the case since he’d returned from Scotland.

  Gordon really wanted to concentrate on the report in front of him, but she came and stood in front of his desk. Maggie could be as stubborn as a stone.

  He leaned back in his chair and regarded her. “If you have something to say, Maggie, say it.”

  “I don’t know what happened to you in Scotland, Gordon, but I suspect it was more than losing your father. You hadn’t spoken to him in five years. Yet suddenly you’re a different man.”

  She was right. He was different. He would never be the same person he had been. What did he tell her?

  He doubted he would ever be able to talk about it.

  “I shall endeavor to return to my normal self,” he said, sitting up and pulling a sheaf of papers in front of him.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong, but if you don’t tell me soon, I’m tempted to beat it out of you.”

  He looked up from his desk. Maggie was still standing there, her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

  “Since when are you given to violent threats?”

  “I’ve been out of practice lately,” she said, her chin jutting up in the air. “However, there were many times when I had to cosh some idiot over the head.”

  Maggie had lived hand to mouth for years. She’d made herself over so well that he sometimes forgot about her past.

  “What happened to you, Maggie? Why did you rob me five years ago?”

  She stared at him for a long time. Finally, she crossed her arms in front of her. He’d seen that pose before, too. It always preluded changing the subject.

  This time, however, she surprised him. “I’d been kicked out of my lodgings for not paying the rent. The man I was with took all my money and left me to starve. See? It’s not so hard to tell the truth.”

  From that he could deduce more than he was comfortable knowing.

  “So you fell in love and it turned out poorly.”

  “Is that what you call it? I think I was a fool and an idiot.”

  “Sometimes that’s one and the same, Maggie.”

  “So she hurt you?”

  “No,” he said, smiling slightly. “She didn’t hurt me.” He’d hurt her. He’d never be able to forget that look on Jennifer’s face. Disbelief, shock, horror—the dawning of grief—he’d probably looked exactly the same way on learning the news he’d delivered.

  “Even if you don’t admit it, I know it’s about her.”

  He sat back in his chair and looked at her. “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’ve never been involved with a woman seriously here in London, and you’ve had a fair bit of women interested in you.”

  “Have I?”

  “I’ve mentioned them before. You never seemed to notice them. I thought, at first, that it was because yo
u were working too much. You were determined to get ahead to the detriment of everything else.”

  “If I admitted it was about a woman, would you leave me alone?”

  “No. I’d just want to know more. Why isn’t she here with you in London?”

  “Maybe she will be in the future.”

  “No, she won’t,” Maggie said, shaking her head.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you wouldn’t have that look on your face if she was. Like a dog that’s been kicked.”

  “I’ve not been kicked. I don’t need advice, and I’m fine, Maggie.”

  She didn’t move, only frowned at him.

  “If she broke your heart, she’s not worth the effort to be pining about her. There are plenty of English girls who are interested in you, Gordon McDonnell. Don’t you forget that.”

  “I’m fine, Maggie. All I want to do right now is work.”

  There must’ve been something in his tone, because she didn’t badger him further. Maggie only sent him another frown, turned on her heel, and left the room.

  He wasn’t fooled. She’d be back. She’d ask questions until he left and found another place to work.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The journey to Edinburgh was accomplished with a minimum of fuss and a maximum degree of comfort. Jennifer had never ridden in as luxurious a vehicle as Mr. Campbell’s carriage. In addition to being well sprung, the seats and back were thickly upholstered. Two clever little compartments along the side held flasks of brandy and wine, a mirror, writing materials, and a folding pair of binoculars in case one wanted to see the scenery with more magnification.

  Every possible effort had been made to ensure her comfort—from the neck pillow she’d been given to the rounded brazier on the floor.

  She truly couldn’t have been more cosseted.

  Even little Mary was adding to the pleasant nature of the journey. The baby hadn’t fussed once, but that was probably because Lauren was holding her daughter. Jennifer hadn’t had many occasions to be around new mothers, but she couldn’t imagine a more perfect person for the role than Lauren.