Highland Rogue

by Deborah Hale

  Or maybe he was only giddy from lack of sleep.

  “It’s just her way, poor thing,” said Tessa. “She does work terribly hard, you know, to make a success of Brancasters. And she’s so clever about business. It’s not her fault she doesn’t know how to get on with men. She’s had so many of them court her just to get their hands on her fortune. That must make it very hard to trust people, don’t you think?”

  Ewan made some vague noise of agreement.

  He knew. Better than Tessa would ever guess.

  Once her memory of the night’s events returned, there could be no question of Claire going back to sleep.

  As she sipped a cup of strong coffee in the breakfast room, she wondered if she would ever enjoy a tranquil night’s sleep again, after what she had done to her sister.

  She’d driven Ewan Geddes away. Not in the manner she had originally planned, but he was gone just the same. And Tessa’s chance for happiness might well be gone with him.

  He was a good man who had loved Tessa devotedly for a long time. And he was no fortune hunter. Quite the opposite, in fact—a little too proud and independent. Now that she understood why, Claire could not blame him for either trait.

  Ewan Geddes was also a strong man, which Tessa needed. He would not put up with any nonsense, even if it meant jumping into the ocean rather than being held on a ship against his will. Even if it meant quitting Strathandrew in the middle of the night, rather than suffering the unwanted demands of his hostess.

  Claire rested her aching brow against her hand and slowly shook her head over her disgraceful behavior. Would she ever scrape together the tattered shreds of her self-respect? For her sake, perhaps it was better if she had driven Ewan out of their lives. How could she ever look him in the face again, after what she’d done?

  The sound of approaching footsteps and voices forced Claire to rally her shattered composure. Life must go on and, as ever, she must find a way to accept what had happened and make the best of it.

  Then the breakfast room door burst open and Tessa dashed in, towing Ewan behind her. Claire wished the floor would cave in and swallow her up, or the ceiling would collapse on top of her—anything to keep her from having to face him again, so soon.

  She rose from her chair and opened her arms to her sister. “Dearest, I’m so glad you’ve arrived at last!”

  Shame and regret over her recent actions made her more demonstrative than usual. She clutched Tessa in a warm, tight embrace of unspoken repentance.

  “Heavens, Claire!” Tessa kissed her cheek, then drew back, chuckling. “One would think you hadn’t seen me in months rather than just a few days. I’ll admit, it does seem longer than that. Wait till I tell you all that happened.”

  She spun about, calling to Glenna McMurdo, who hovered just inside the door. “Could we get something to eat, please? I’m famished and I expect Ewan is, too, after coming into the village so early to meet my train.”

  “Aye, miss.” The maid hurried off.

  Tessa reached for Ewan’s hand again. “Wasn’t that sweet of him to do? Especially since he had no way of knowing for certain I’d be coming today. I thought of sending a wire to let you know I was on my way, but I had only a little bit of money, and I wanted to make sure it would last.”

  Those words distracted Claire from her desperate effort to avoid Ewan’s gaze. “Only a little money? I don’t understand, dearest.” She glanced past Tessa and Ewan toward the door. “Where is your mother?”

  “I don’t know,” Tessa announced with an air of blithe indifference. She collapsed onto a chair, pulling Ewan down on the one beside her. “And after what she did, I don’t much care, either.”

  Wilting back onto her own chair, Claire listened with growing alarm as Tessa related the story of her mother’s attempts to keep her in London. Fortunately, she seemed to have no suspicion that Claire might have been in league with Lady Lydiard, perhaps because the pair had never cooperated in anything before.

  “When I heard she’d summoned Spencer, that was the last straw,” said Tessa. “I took what pin money I had on hand and slipped out of the house. It was the most marvelous adventure traveling north all by myself.

  “I got on the wrong train in Manchester and was so afraid I’d miss my connection to Carlisle. But people were ever so kind. Apart from that boy who tried to steal my reticule … and that sailor who appeared rather the worse for drink.”

  “Oh, dearest, how awful!” Claire’s hand trembled as she lifted her coffee cup to her lips. “Thank heaven you reached here safely!”

  To think that while Tessa had been braving such dangers, she had been larking about the Highlands, pretending that her sister’s beau belonged to her!

  A welcome distraction appeared at that moment in the shape of Glenna McMurdo, bearing a tray well laden with breakfast foods. The savory smells of eggs, fried ham and kippered herring made Claire’s gorge rise. Ewan did not appear very hungry, either, taking only a slice of bread and butter while Tessa heaped her plate.

  “When I saw dear Ewan waiting for me on the platform,” she said between bites, “I knew it had all been worthwhile. I was determined to find a parson and get married at once, before Mama could turn up and start interfering again.”

  “You’re married?” Claire fumbled her cup, splashing lukewarm coffee all down the bust of her morning gown.

  She had repented spoiling her sister’s chances. If Tessa and Ewan wanted to marry—well, she loved her sister and respected him more than any other man she’d met. She wanted them to be happy together. Yet hearing they were already wed felt like someone was gouging her heart out with a dull knife.

  “Not yet.” Intent on her breakfast, Tessa didn’t seem to have noticed Claire spilling her coffee. “But soon.”

  From his chair beside Tessa, Ewan might not have glimpsed the incident, either. Claire hoped he hadn’t.

  “Sensible man that he is,” Tessa continued, “Ewan pointed out that Mama cannot arrive any earlier than tomorrow morning. He wanted to make sure I had a chance to eat and rest before the wedding. Isn’t he a darling?”

  Claire forced the corners of her mouth up. Her sister’s innocent question twisted that invisible knife in her chest. Her nerves were so overwrought that when Tessa dropped her cutlery on her plate with a loud clatter, Claire flinched back, gasping.

  “I have the most marvelous idea!” Tessa turned toward Claire and grabbed her hand. “While I have a little nap, could you call on the parson and ask if he’ll come here to conduct the ceremony this afternoon? Then we can have a nice fancy tea to celebrate. I’ll pop down to the kitchen and ask Rosie to get busy baking a wedding cake.”

  As Claire struggled to find her voice, Ewan spoke up for the first time since he and Tessa had arrived from the village. “Go have yerself a good lay down. Then we can talk about weddings and such.”

  His tone was neither loud nor sharp, but his words rang with a firm resolve that even Tessa seemed prepared to accept. “Oh, very well. But I don’t want to wait too long. Mama will only find some other way of coming between us, if we do.”

  “If yer ma or anyone else can come between us,” said Ewan, “then we don’t belong together and it’s just as well we find out first as last.”

  Anyone else—those words had an ominous sound. Had they been meant for Tessa? Or as a warning to her sister?

  Tessa yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Perhaps you’re right. I will not let opposition from my mother or anyone else sway me. In fact, the harder they try, the more determined I become.”

  Ewan patted the back of her hand. “Ye are a determined lass. No doubt about that. Now, get yerself off to bed for a few hours before ye fall asleep where ye’re sitting.”

  The practical, solicitous fondness of his words made the back of Claire’s throat ache. Not for all the world would she deprive her sister of it. Yet how she longed to have a man like Ewan speak to her that way!

  “Gracious!” Tessa rose from her chair and stretched. “I don�
��t know why you insist on postponing the wedding when you’re acting like a husband already.”

  She stooped to press a kiss on his brow. “I hope you don’t have any ambition to tyrant over me once we’re married. I won’t stand for it, you know.”

  Ewan got to his feet. “That’s one thing I can promise ye, lass.”

  He followed Tessa as she departed the breakfast room.

  At the last moment he was within earshot, Claire could hold her tongue no longer. “Ewan!”

  “Aye?” He paused in the door and turned to glance back at her, his features tensed in a grim, anxious look.

  Now that she had his attention, she could not think what to say. This was not the time to talk about what had happened last night, even if he would listen to her.

  “Are … are you going to have a sleep, too?” He looked as if he could use one. Apart from everything else, she was sorry for that.

  Ewan pursed his lips and shook his head. “No. I’m going to pack. The train south will be coming back through the village later today and I plan to be on it.”

  “But … Tessa? The wedding?”

  “There’s not going to be a wedding, Claire. Not today, for sure. Once yer sister’s rested enough to think straight, I’m going to tell her.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  After what had happened last night, Ewan should have savored the look of distress on Claire’s face when he told her he’d be leaving, and not likely marrying her sister.

  But he couldn’t.

  If she thought of him as nothing but a servant, she should be glad to see him go and let Tessa wed the “right sort” of fellow. Or maybe he was reading too much into that look, because he didn’t want to face the truth.

  It might only be a hangover that made Claire appear so miserable. Considering how much cider she’d drunk last night, and how fast she’d put it away, she had good cause to be feeling poorly the morning after. Maybe she was embarrassed about getting tipsy and almost ending up in bed with the man her sister wanted to marry. Or maybe she was worried he would tell Tessa what had happened.

  If Claire could believe him capable of such ungallant conduct … ! Ewan’s waning anger blazed afresh, but rapidly burned itself out. Considering some of the things he’d said and done this past week, he didn’t deserved his own good opinion, let alone hers.

  “Are you coming, darling?” Tessa’s summons jolted him from the stern verdict of his conscience.

  “Aye, lass, I’m right behind ye.” He hurried to catch up with her.

  Was he being fair to Tessa? he asked himself. Was he right to dismiss her feelings for him as nothing more than a rebellious fancy? Or was he trying to make himself believe it, to soothe his guilty conscience and excuse his behavior with Claire?

  There was one way he might find out. And if he was right, it might fix some of the upheaval he’d caused by barging back into her life after all these years.

  “Tessa?” Ewan reached for her hand when he caught up with her at the top of the stairs. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell ye.”

  “Can’t it wait, darling?” She leaned against him as they walked down the gallery. “I’m ever so sleepy after that lovely breakfast.”

  She stopped in front of a door that must lead to her bedroom.

  “Aye, lass.” He needed to take an unsparing look at the motives behind his feelings for her. Or behind the feelings he’d thought he had. “I reckon it’ll keep till ye’re better rested. Have a good sleep.”

  He turned toward his room, and the packing that awaited him.

  “Darling?” Tessa had not released his hand. Now she tugged him back toward her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  She greeted his bemused look with a chuckle. “—Aren’t you going to kiss me? It’s quite ridiculous to think of us getting married when we’ve never even kissed.”

  “I told ye how I feel about that, Tessa. And we did kiss, remember? It was a long time ago. Maybe ye’ve forgotten it.”

  “You can’t put me off with that excuse. I’m certain I would remember if you’d kissed me, Ewan Geddes.”

  He’d flattered himself that she would. But it had been ten years ago. Tessa had probably been kissed by several other men since. He had never forgotten it, though.

  “That last summer?” Even as he tried to prompt her memory, the flesh between his shoulders crinkled. “Remember—the night before ye sailed back home? Down by the dock?”

  “Are you certain it was me?”

  “It was dark … but ye wrote me a …” A note. An unsigned note that he’d assumed must have come from Tessa. How blind could one man be?

  “Poor darling.” Tessa reached up to stroke his brow. “I didn’t pay you much mind back then, did I? I promise to make up for it once we’re married.”

  So Tessa hadn’t cared for him, back then. She couldn’t have nursed a fallow desire for him all the years they’d been apart—the way he had for her. He would have a lot to think about before he boarded that train for Glasgow later today. He needed some accurate measure of Tessa’s present feelings for him, to help sort out the whole bewildering tangle.

  “Married … aye. Let me just tell ye quickly what I was going to say about that. Then ye can sleep on it.”

  “Oh, very well.” Tessa leaned back against her door. “Since you’re so determined to have it out. What is this important news of yours?”

  When he heard the soft tap on his door a while later, Ewan assumed it must be the young footman, Alec, sent to help him pack. It had the deferential sound of a servant’s knock. The kind that said, Pardon me for intruding, but would it be too much trouble if I come in, now, and do my job?

  “Aye, come on in!” he called from the dressing room. “I could use yer help. Did some of my shirts get taken to be laundered? And have ye seen my silver cuff links?”

  The footman did not answer. Claire did. “I’ll ask Mrs. Arbuthnot about your shirts. I expect the cuff links are somewhere about. When did you last have them on?”

  What had brought her here?

  Ewan emerged from the dressing room with a waistcoat folded over his arm. “Sorry, I thought ye were somebody else. What can I do for ye?”

  It was the question of a servant, born and bred.

  “What would I like you to do for me?” asked Claire. “Or what are you able to do for me?”

  He’d intended to talk to her before he left Strathandrew, to make certain everything was out in the open and understood between them. But he wished she hadn’t come here. It was too potent a reminder of last night.

  “Tell me the first of those,” he said, “then I’ll tell you the second.”

  “Very well.” She inhaled a deep breath, then forged ahead. “What I want … what I wish, is that you could forget what happened last night and not hold my intolerable behavior against my sister. Drunk or sober, I should never have thrown myself at you that way. I cannot begin to tell you how much I regret the distress I must have caused you.”

  Ewan could see the distress it caused her to speak of it. Her face looked pale and pinched. Her wary gaze flitted around the room, seldom daring to meet his. Her bearing suggested someone braced for a blow. She looked so ill at ease, his heart went out to her in spite of himself.

  “I wouldn’t say ye threw yerself at me.” He tried to ease the tension between them with a little teasing. “Ye could hardly sit up.”

  He immediately regretted his misplaced attempt at humor, for it appeared to fluster Claire even worse. Her lower lip quivered until she caught it between her teeth, and she blinked furiously in an effort to fight back tears. It wasn’t any hangover making her look like that. Nor had she mentioned him keeping quiet to Tessa about last night, but seemed to assume that he would behave with honor.

  “I will never forgive myself if I have spoiled Tessa’s chances with such a fine man.” Her voice broke on those last two words, but before Ewan could reply, she rallied.

  In spite of her obvious dismay at having to
plead with him, she seemed determined to have her say. “I swear, if you marry my sister, I will never do anything to embarrass or insult you again. I won’t drink anything stronger than tea in your presence.”

  If their positions had been reversed, would he have been able to master his pride to plead like this with her?

  Perhaps she glimpsed a softening of his expression that gave her hope. “Reconsider, Ewan, I beg you. Tessa is a dear girl. You’ve loved her all these years without any hope. Don’t lose her now because of my folly. You can live here at Strathandrew and run the business we talked about. You’ll hardly ever have to see your wife’s odious relations. Please? For Tessa’s sake and for your own?”

  When she looked at him like that, he wanted to grant her anything she asked. But for his own sake and for Tessa’s, he must not let her persuade him.

  He set the waistcoat he’d been holding on the bed. “If it helps, Claire, I don’t hold what happened last night against ye. I reckon we all have … needs we keep under control most of the time, like a big dog on a leash. One drink too many is like trying to walk the dog over slippery ground. It’s easy for the beast to run away with us.”

  Claire let out a quivering sigh. “Then you’ll stay? If you’d rather wait and have a proper wedding, I promise I’ll intervene with Lady Lydiard so she won’t give you any trouble over it.”

  He hated to squash her fragile sense of relief. “Ye don’t understand, lass. I haven’t changed my mind about marrying Tessa, though that has nothing to do with …”

  He’d been going to say it had nothing to do with her or last night, but that wasn’t true. “Ye said I’ve loved Tessa all these years. After giving it some hard thought. I see that’s not true. I only wish I’d realized it before I barged back into all yer lives and turned everything upside down. But I’m glad I had the sense to see it before we rushed into something that would have been bad for both of us.”

  Did he owe Lady Lydiard his thanks for giving him a few days to come to his senses? It galled Ewan to think so.

  “You can’t mean that!” All Claire’s distress seemed to vaporize into passionate anger. Eyes that had once held mournful mist now flashed with silver lightning. “Feelings like those don’t flourish for ten years, then disappear in a few days!”