The Heir

by Lindsey, Johanna

  That brought her marching back, but only to say, “Ophelia won’t allow you to have women friends, Duncan, or aren’t you aware of how jealous she is, or the bile she can spew because of it?”

  “Is that what happened that night tae upset you? She turned her vicious tongue on you?”

  She sighed at that point. “Not really. I was upset because I lost my own temper with her and stooped to her level of nastiness. That just isn’t me, and I was appalled that I let my own tongue run away with me.”

  Sabrina lost her temper? He couldn’t imagine it either, but he sure would have liked to see it. On second thought, no, he wouldn’t. This stiff reservation she was showing him right now was bad enough, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  He dismounted and came to stand in front of her. “At least your outburst had nae dire consequences, lass. Try losing your temper and having it ruin the rest o‘ your life.”

  He said it so forlornly that she would have had to be completely indifferent to him not to ask, “Ruined how? What did you do?”

  “I was angry that you had been upset enough tae send you running pell-mell oout into the night. That it happened after you talked tae Ophelia told me the cause for it.”

  “But she wasn’t really why I was so upset. Her subtle insults don’t usually bother me. It was my own behavior that shocked me.”

  “Aye, but you wouldna say what had occurred when I asked you that night,” he reminded her. “And by the time I returned tae Summers Glade, I was determined tae get the answer from the source. My anger built when I couldna find her. When I did finally locate her, I didna care that it was in an inappropriate place.”

  “Where?”

  “Her bedroom.”

  There were a dozen things that Sabrina could have said just then to lessen the impact of what she was hearing, but all that came out was, “Oh.”

  “E’en that would have made nae difference if someone hadna come upon us there.”

  “Who?”

  “Mavis Newbolt is her name. Ophelia claimed this lass hates her and would relish spreading the tale. My only hope is that isna so. But the lass has taken herself off and canna be found tae verify whether or no‘ she would make a scandal o’ where she found us.”

  “Are you saying this is why you’re engaged to Ophelia again?”

  “Why else, lass?” he said. “You dinna think I want tae marry her?”

  “And this occurred after you... took me home?”

  “Aye.”

  Sabrina glanced away from him. He heard what sounded suspiciously like a growl, but coming from her, doubted it. When she looked at him again, a long moment later, she was without expression and her tone was matter-of-fact.

  “Ophelia lies about many things, but how Mavis feels about her isn’t one of them. She brought it on herself, though. They used to be friends, but only just recently had a falling out. It happened at Summers Glade, actually, but the result was, Ophelia tried her hardest to blacken Mavis’s name.”

  “How well d’you know this Mavis? Would she want tae get back at Ophelia, e’en if it meant hurting someone else tae do it?”

  “I’m sorry, Duncan, but I don’t know her well enough to say. I liked her. She seemed quite nice—at least when she wasn’t around Ophelia. When she was, she became rather catty and snide in her remarks. But then Ophelia seems to have that effect on a lot of people, bringing out the worst in them. It’s an amazing quality, that.”

  “Nae, what’s amazing is that it would be assumed that I compromised her, merely because o‘ where we were seen t’gether, when I’ve ne’er touched her. And there doesna seem tae be any way tae get oout o’ marrying her, unless ...”

  “Unless?”

  He turned around, wondering why he’d even thought of it, much less mentioned it, when it would be indirectly using her just to save himself. Not that the outcome wouldn’t be infinitely more desirable, but it would still be taking advantage of her—again.

  “Never mind,” he mumbled. “ ‘Twas a wayward thought best left unsaid.”

  “I would think you would want to explore every option—if you really don’t want to marry her.”

  She’d said it rather stiffly, which had him turning back to her and countering defensively, “You dinna think I have? It stands oout plainly in my mind that I havena really compromised her, but I have compromised you. If I should be forced tae marry anyone, it should be you—och, that didna sound the way I meant it.”

  Her voice went from stiff to much stiffer, even though she allowed, “However you meant it, it’s not an option, Duncan, because it wouldn’t alter the fact that Ophelia would be ruined if it gets out that you were in her bedroom alone with her. Doesn’t matter that you’ve never touched her. A scandal is just that, and I know firsthand how detrimental one can be. Perception is everything where scandal is concerned, with truth and fact having little to do with it. And much as I have come to not like Ophelia, I will not be a party to her ruination, indirectly or otherwise.”

  She walked off yet again after that. Duncan didn’t try to stop her this time. The uplift in spirits he had hoped to get from an encounter with her hadn’t occurred. If anything, he felt worse now. That she had seemed as down in spirits as he was the cause.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  It was raining, hard enough to conceal most of the view outside. Duncan stood at the drawing room window watching the downpour, and wondering if Sabrina was watching it, too. She liked the rain, liked storms, liked anything to do with nature apparently, no matter the time of year. He remembered the joy in her expression when he’d taken her out onto that terrace in the rain ...

  “You can’t keep avoiding me.”

  It was distinctly jarring, hearing that particular voice behind him, even though he’d had warning that Ophelia might be approaching him, had seen her reflection in the window. The rain had darkened the late afternoon enough to cause the lamps to be turned on in the house, but he would probably have seen her reflection even without the light behind him, since she seemed to glow with her own internal light, her white-blond hair and pale skin only partly responsible.

  He didn’t turn around. He really didn’t want to have a conversation with her, of any sort, but least of all on the subject of avoiding her. He simply hadn’t decided yet how to deal with her.

  He could tell her the truth, that he could barely tolerate her, but that would no doubt lead to their living estranged once they wed, which, all things considered, sounded like an ideal arrangement— for him anyway. Or he could try to get along with her, to make the best of an unwanted marriage. He wasn’t sure he could do that, but he could at least try. However, she was bound to sense, sooner or later, his true feelings, and that would probably lead back to an estranged relationship anyway, so why bother?

  But he had the answer to that. He would make an effort for Archie. Archie wanted him to marry and supply him with new heirs. He wouldn’t be getting those heirs as he expected, but Duncan had plenty of time to make him see reason on that point. Yet he wouldn’t be getting the heirs at all if Duncan couldn’t manage to bed his own wife.

  “How will it look to people?”

  She was still there? Duncan sighed inwardly and turned about to face Ophelia.

  “As if we dinna really want tae get married?”

  He surprised himself in giving her that answer. It simply came out, despite the internal debate he had just been having with himself. So much for any pretenses. Yet he preferred the truth, and perhaps they could work around it and try to get along anyway.

  That thought had him wondering if it was possible for Ophelia to change her ways, or if she was too far gone in her self-absorption. Did he even want to try to change her? Her answer suggested it would be a lost cause.

  “Well, I don’t want to marry you,” she said in a huffy tone. “Not anymore anyway, since talking to your grandfather pointed out how tedious it will be living here. But you—there’s no reason for you to keep pretending, Duncan. You know you won
’t mind being married to me at all. You, no doubt, only object to how we got engaged again.”

  He wasn’t rendered exactly speechless, but it did take a moment for him to get past his amazement enough to reply, “Did it e’er occur tae you, Ophelia, that outward appearances might no‘ be what everyone finds important, that some men might prefer sterling qualities in the lass they marry, rather than a pretty face?”

  She stared at him blankly for a moment, but then she laughed in a condescending way and informed him, “I’ve had hundreds of marriage proposals to prove otherwise, and most of them from men who barely knew me. What does that tell you about what men prefer?”

  “It tells me they’ve convinced you into thinking that your beauty is all that matters. And you would have been in line for a rude awakening had you married one o‘ them, when they finally did get tae know you. I’m going tae be honest wi’ you, lass. I dinna like your ways, dinna like the spite you’re capable of, dinna like the way you treat people, as if nae one matters but yourself.”

  “If you think—”

  He interrupted her indignant reply, saying in as calm a tone as he could muster, “Be quiet a moment, and let me tell you why I’m telling you this. If we have tae marry, and it doesna look as if anything is going tae save us from it, then we will have only tae choices thereafter, tae live in peace wi‘ each other, or make our own hell. But the only way we’ll manage the peace is if you can change your ways. D’you think you can do that, lass?”

  “There is nothing wrong with the way I behave,” she insisted.

  He sighed. “If you willna e’en recognize that your haughty airs and spiteful tendencies are reprehensible tae me, then we’ve nothing further tae discuss.”

  “One little insult I give you, and that makes me spiteful? Do you even care to know why I insulted you? Does it matter to you that I didn’t want to marry you, that I was furious that I had been engaged to you without even being asked if I wanted to be engaged to you? I simply wanted out of that engagement. What was so wrong with that?”

  “You had other options,” he told her. “The most obvious being that you could have told me how you felt and we could have amicably ended the engagement.”

  “You must be joking. I knew very well that once you saw me, nothing would have stopped you from marrying me—unless you were provoked into breaking it off in a moment of rage, which you did.”

  He saw her reasoning—up to a point. He had thought himself incredibly lucky when he first laid eyes on her. He had been immediately smitten by her beauty just as other men no doubt were. Had she told him then that she didn’t want to marry him, he might well have tried to change her mind about it—at least until he got to know her and discovered that she simply wasn’t a likable person. So honesty on her part might not have made any difference.

  But instead of honesty, she’d tried to manipulate him with her insults, and succeeded at it. And that wasn’t even the extent of her scheme ...

  “Spreading rumors tae blacken my name was tae this same end?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said in a chiding tone. “That wasn’t for your benefit at all, was to show my parents that you weren’t the ideal husband for me that they were so sure you were, so I could convince them to break the engagement themselves. That didn’t work, however. They were set on the match no matter what. But let’s not pretend that you were hurt by it, nor was there any chance that you would be unless the rumors turned out to be true. It only took people having a chance to meet you to see that the rumors were groundless.”

  He shook his head at her. “D’you no‘ ken how despicable all o’ that scheming is? When a little simple honesty would have—?”

  “Done nothing,” she interrupted, her tone now bitter. “I did try that, Duncan. I told my parents from the beginning that I didn’t want to marry a man I’d never even met. Now you tell me something, and you be honest about it. How did you feel about being engaged to a woman you’d never met before?” She sighed then. “Never mind, you obviously didn’t mind, since you went along with it.”

  He flushed with embarrassed heat, because that wasn’t exactly true. His reaction to having a wife chosen for him had been the same as hers, or at least what she was claiming hers had been.

  He was forced to admit, “Actually, lass, I didna know aboot it until a few days afore I got here. I’m auld enough tae be picking m’own wife, you ken. Neville was mistaken in thinking he could do it for me. I would have broken the engagement, but I was asked tae at least meet you first, which I did.”

  She blushed now as well and complained defensively, “Well, how was I to know that? But since you seem to admire honesty so much, tell me, would you have broken it if I hadn’t insulted you?”

  Having only just considered that, his reply was quick. “Nae, at least, no‘ immediately. You are a beauty, lass, there’s nae denying that. But it wouldna have taken verra long for me tae see what’s beneath the surface and no’ like what’s there. Now there’s nae choice in the matter, and I’ve learned that e’en that is indirectly your doing because you deliberately made an enemy o‘ that lass who saw us t’gether. Had it been anyone but her, we wouldna be in this fix now.”

  “Hardly,” she shot back. “Buying silence is a tricky business that is never a sure thing.”

  Duncan rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “No‘ everyone needs tae be bought off, lass. Some people, believe it or no’, would actually understand and wouldna want tae see either o‘ us hurt or ruined due tae one innocent meeting that might have been misconstrued.”

  “You put too much trust in human nature,” she scoffed at him.

  “And you dinna put enough. So we’re back tae where we started, stuck wi‘ each other. And I’m still wanting tae know if you can change your ways. Can you stop making enemies of others simply because you dinna like something they say or do? Can you stop the scheming and vindictive retaliations? Can you stop lying just tae suit your needs or—”

  “Oh, stop,” she cut him off dryly. “Why don’t I just stop breathing?”

  “Sarcasm isna going tae help here.”

  “That wasn’t sarcasm,” she retorted. “You obviously are too high-minded for my own tastes, Duncan, so why don’t we just admit we aren’t suited for each other and never will be. I thought I wouldn’t mind marrying you, after I met you, but I have since changed my mind, particularly after speaking with Lord Neville and having it outlined in detail what a drudgery it will be, living here. Believe me, I want out of this engagement as much as you do. I’d even beg, beg, mind you, Mavis at this point to keep her mouth shut. But I know it wouldn’t do any good. She hates me, probably always did.”

  “Why?” he countered. “Unless you did something tae cause it.”

  “Don’t be naive. I did nothing but be born with these looks, which cause envy and jealousy in other women, which leads to animosity of the worst sort. They try to hide it, but aren’t always successful. Mavis, like so many others, just pretended to be my friend because I’m popular, the ‘one to be around.’ You think I don’t know it, that I’m used that way. You think it’s easy to shrug that off?”

  “I think that if I didna suspect that you brought most o‘ that hate upon yourself, I might pity you.”

  “Don’t you dare!” she snapped. “And if you want out of this horrid situation that, need I remind you, you caused with your bloody temper, then do something about it! I can’t go traipsing about the country trying to find Mavis, but you can. So stop moping about here doing nothing, and get us both out of this.”

  She flounced off, leaving him back where he started, with little hope for his future. Find the Newbolt lass himself, when he wasn’t familiar with this country and wouldn’t know where to even begin looking? Yet Ophelia was right. He had been moping. He’d let the situation get him so deep into misery that he couldn’t see any way to crawl out of it. Yet just because he was sure he didn’t have even a small chance in hell of success was no reason not to search for that small chance. />
  His only real hope was that there were men out there looking for her, men accustomed to tracking down people, or so his grandfather had assured him. That wasn’t enough to really sustain him, though, not when his wedding day was just around the corner.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Having made the decision to search for Mavis Newbolt himself, it was quickly brought home to Duncan how futile it was going to be when he began gathering information before he left Summers Glade, and counted up the many addresses involved that were spread all across the country. Ironically, Ophelia had supplied most of those addresses, including those of Mavis’s close friends, who would hopefully all be in London, because even they had other addresses in other towns, any one of which Mavis might be visiting.

  Knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to get to every residence in the few days he had left, he needed to decide which ones might gain him the most information the quickest, or if he got lucky, Mavis herself. Since it wasn’t a decision he could easily make, though, when he didn’t know any of the people involved, he sought out someone who was sure to know more than he.

  He found Raphael easily enough; in fact, the duke’s son had been looking for him as well, or implied as much when he said, “You’ll be devastated, I know, to be tendered my adieu, but all good things—or bad, as it were, must come to an end. And yes, I’m sure you need an interpretation for that, so in other words, I’m about to take myself back to London. This place has become much too depressing. You’d think a funeral were pending, rather than a wedding.”

  “I canna argue that,” Duncan replied. “I’m leaving for London myself and wanted to ask—”

  “Flying the coop, are you?” Rafe cut in. “My, my, didn’t think you’d take that route.”

  Duncan bristled, but needing the man’s opinion, kept that to himself. “Nor am I. I’m going tae search for Mavis Newbolt, the lass that holds the scandal in her hands. She’s the only one who can get me out o‘ this mess.”