An Encounter at Hyde Park

by Karen Hawkins

  “There was never the right time to tell her,” Ian said softly, but the words rang dully about the salon.

  “In ten years, there was never the right time?” he asked incredulously. And now Ian thought he could buy Griffin off. That he would take money instead of reclaiming his family’s rightful land. Griff would like nothing more than to pound the sanctimonious Earl of Ericht right in the jaw. “I will have what I was promised, Ian MacLaren. I will have what is mine.”

  “Still as stubborn as ever.” The earl shook his head. “The two of ye won’t suit, Griffin. Ye never will. Ye’re harsh and determined, hardened by war – I can see it. And she’s…” He seemed to search the heavens for the right word, and then finally said, “Well, she’s, Ellie. I wouldn’t give the pair of ye a fortnight before killing each other. Why do ye want that future, Griffin? Ye’ve been to hell and back. Don’t ye want a little peace at some point? Ye’ll never have that married to my sister.”

  And though Ian was very likely right about that, Griffin could only shake his head. “I don’t want yer money, Ian. I want my family’s legacy. I want my family’s land returned to me. Ellie’s dowry gives me that.”

  “Her dowry.” Ian frowned. “Ye want her dowry, but ye don’t want her.”

  “They are one in the same,” Griff replied evenly. He’d always known they were a package deal, and he’d long ago come to terms with that. “So ye’d better tell her the truth before I’m forced to.”

  “Very well.” Ian nodded slowly. “I’ll tell her. At the end of the season, I’ll tell her. Until then, why don’t ye court her? Why don’t ye spend a little time learning who she is and if ye truly want to spend eternity with her.”

  “Buying time until ye can find some MacLaren way to wriggle out of yer obligations?”

  “Giving ye time to come to yer senses, for both of yer sakes.”

  Ellie burst into her younger sister Catriona’s room, slightly out of breath. Cat glanced up from her writing desk, the fading sunlight from the window catching her soft red curls, her eyes wide at the intrusion.

  “Cat!” Ellie rushed towards her sister. “I need yer help. Ian is being difficult.”

  Cat giggled as she was prone to do. “Ian’s always difficult.”

  Truer words were never spoken, but Ellie didn’t have time to go into all of the details, not when she had no idea how long Griff would be at MacLaren House. “He’s being particularly so at the moment. So I need ye to help me.”

  “What’s happened?” Cat touched a hand to her heart.

  Ellie shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. Griffin Reid is here. He asked to see both Ian and me, but Ian wouldn’t let me see him. Barking orders at me to stay as though I’m a dog.”

  A smile spread across Cat’s face. “Griffin Reid? I haven’t heard that name in a million years.”

  No one had. That was beside the point, however. Ellie reached for Cat’s hand. “They’re holed up in the yellow salon and I need to talk to Griff. I think I can intercept him before he leaves, but only if ye help me.”

  “What do ye want me to do?” she asked as Ellie dragged her towards the corridor.

  “Distract Ian. Tell him ye need to talk to him.”

  “And then say what to him? I never have anything to say to Ian.”

  Heavens, it was frustrating having a sister who was not adept at subterfuge. “Say anything. Tell him ye want to take up painting.” When Cat turned up her nose at that, Ellie continued, “Tell him ye heard Chloe Springate has set her cap for him and ye wanted to warn him. Tell him—”

  “Chloe Springate has set her cap for him?” Cat’s brow lifted in wonder. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because she’s a ninnyhammer,” Ellie replied, hating that Cat had gotten her off the subject. “It doesn’t matter. Just keep him busy. Talk any sort of inanities ye can think of. Anything that will give me enough time to talk to Griffin Reid, to find out…”

  “Find out what?” Cat dug in her heels, refusing to move an inch from her spot in the middle of the corridor.

  Normally, Ellie wouldn’t confide even the most insignificant detail to Cat. Her sister wasn’t exactly the most subtle of creatures. “Which ball he thinks I should attend tonight,” she said after a moment, not wanting to confide anything of merit to her sister, but still not wanting to outright lie.

  Cat’s blue eyes twinkled. “Have ye set yer cap for Griffin Reid?”

  Ellie nearly reared back at the suggestion. Set her cap for Griffin Reid? She wasn’t in leading strings any longer. She wasn’t the same moon-eyed lass she’d been once upon a time who had dreamed of nothing but Griff.

  Besides, Griff had no title, no lands, nothing to offer except his honor and his handsome face, when he wasn’t scowling at her. And while he did have a very handsome face, a handsome face would hardly keep her in the style to which she was accustomed to living. One had to be practical in such matters. Griffin Reid would make some Scottish lass a very nice husband someday, but that lass wouldn’t be Ellie. “Just help me, will ye?”

  Cat nodded quickly. “Aye, I’ll wait outside the yellow salon for them to finish talking. Where will ye be?”

  “In the white parlor.” The room closest to the front door with a view of Curzon Street. After all, she didn’t imagine Griff could escape MacLaren House without her notice if she was in that particular parlor.

  If Griff never laid eyes on another MacLaren, it would be too soon. He turned his back on Ian and started from yellow salon, only to find Lady Catriona MacLaren blocking his path. Good God. The last time he’d seen the little imp, she’d been in leading strings. “Cat?” he asked, though he knew it was her. She still possessed a gleeful twinkle in her eyes, and that light red hair.

  “Griffin Reid!” Cat threw her arms around his middle. “I can’t believe it’s really ye.”

  “Leave the man be, Cat,” Ian grumbled from behind Griff. “He was just leaving.”

  Cat grinned up at Griff anyway, completely undeterred by her brother’s gruffness. “Say ye’ll be back.”

  If he was going to court his own damned fiancée, he’d most definitely be back. Even so, it would have been difficult to say as much to Cat, not with the girlish smile she still wore. In fact, he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m sure ye’ll be seeing me soon, Cat.”

  She stepped away from him and said, “In that case, God speed, Griff.” Then she glanced past him into the salon. “Ian, do ye have a minute? There’s something important I need to talk to ye about.”

  Ian grumbled something, but Griff didn’t stay long enough to find out what it was. He started back towards the entrance, his mind awhirl with all he’d learned that afternoon. Before he could escape, however, Ellie came from out of nowhere and grabbed his arm.

  “In here,” she whispered, pulling him towards a parlor a few feet away. Was that where she’d come from?

  Griff let her lead him into the room, his gaze drinking her in. Ellie’s blonde locks were knotted at the nape of her neck, trailing over one alabaster shoulder, giving Griff a very nice view of her slender, graceful neck. But then everything about Ellie was graceful, it always had been.

  When she turned around to face him, Griff asked, “What do ye want, Ellie?”

  “Lots of things.” Eyes as blue as Loch Ericht shone up at him, and his heart squeezed a bit. There never had been a lass prettier than Elspeth MacLaren. “But first, what is going on between ye and Ian?”

  Oh, he’d love to tell her. To get everything out on the table, but Ian had made some sense about how to go forward, loathe as Griff was to admit that to himself. Telling her everything would probably just build some insurmountable chasm between them. “Just a difference of opinion, that’s all.”

  She didn’t believe him. He could see it in her intelligent eyes. “About what?”

  “Well, that’s between him and me.” At least for the time being.

  “I’m certain Ian’s wrong whatever it is,” she said with that
breathy voice of hers.

  Except that Ian was most likely right, which did grate more than a bit. But so did the fact that Ellie thought she could coax the information out of him with a bat of her pretty eyelashes. “Nice try, Ellie.”

  “Does that mean ye won’t tell me?”

  “Always the smartest MacLaren in the bunch.”

  She huffed in irritation. “Ye were always the most stubborn lad, Griffin.”

  “Then aren’t we a brilliant match?”

  Her brow rose haughtily, just as it used to when she was a child. “Don’t tell me yer secret then. I’m certain it’s not interesting in the least.”

  Griff couldn’t help but laugh. She probably did a fine job managing every man she came in contact with. But not him. Not ever him.

  “I can’t imagine what ye think is so amusing.” She pursed those damn kissable lips of hers; and despite his best efforts, his trousers became noticeably tight.

  Griff shook his head. Ian was probably right. After a fortnight together, he and Ellie would most likely be at each other’s throats. But it might just be the best fortnight of his life up until that point, having Ellie in his arms, in his bed…in his heart? Well, perhaps not that last one. If he ever fell in love with Elspeth MacLaren, he’d be doomed. He’d be just another man she’d manage with a bat of her lashes. And that wasn’t something Griff could let happen. “Ye haven’t changed a bit. Do ye know that?”

  “Aye. Ye said so this very afternoon.” Then she flashed him a smile that no doubt would make droves of men fall at her feet. “Did ye find out where Lord Peasemore plans to be this evening?”

  At his lover’s ball. But Griff couldn’t say those words, not with her looking up at him so hopefully. Though the idea of Ellie pining away after that Peasemore blackguard grated Griff’s nerves, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. “Aye.” He nodded. “But I don’t think I’ll tell ye.”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise. “But ye promised. We had a deal.”

  He nodded once more. “We did. That deal, if ye remember, my dear, involved ye helping Healeyfield find Miss Throssell. All ye did was give us a rather generic description of the girl. It’s hardly the same thing.”

  “Well, she wasn’t there!” Ellie protested. “How am I to find her if I don’t know where she is?”

  “Ye didn’t know where she was when ye made that deal, and yet ye made it anyway. I can’t imagine ye think ye should be rewarded for such an underhanded trick.”

  Ellie’s eye widened a bit. “I thought ye were looking for Miss Throssell. What does Lord Healeyfield want with her?”

  Griff snorted. “What do ye want with Peasemore?” he returned, though he had a fairly good idea.

  She tipped her head back a little and shrugged. “I don’t think that’s any of yer concern.”

  Thought it most definitely was. “And what Healeyfield wants with Miss Throssell is none of yers.”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” she said slightly waspishly. “Whatever it is ye and Ian are arguing about, I’m certain he’s right.”

  Griff couldn’t help but smirk. “Aye, he probably is.”

  “Please, Griff,” she begged, her voice soft once more. “Please tell me where Lord Peasemore will be.”

  Griff had to be at the Ridgemont’s anyway. If he told Ellie Peasemore meant to be there too, at least this way he could see what he was up against in regards to the Englishman. If he and Ellie were in love, it was bound to be more than difficult to get her before Griff’s altar at the end of the season. “The Ridgemonts,” he said, studying her pretty face. “But I’ll expect ye to assist Healeyfield in regards to Miss Throssell in exchange for that information.”

  “Of course.” Ellie nodded quickly. “What sort of assistance does he need?”

  Griff shrugged. “I have no idea what tonight holds. I think it best just to keep all options open.”

  As soon as Ellie entered the Ridgemont ballroom on her brother’s arm, she quietly scanned the area, looking for her quarry. But Lord Peasemore wasn’t there, at least not anywhere she could see. Captain Griffin Reid, however, was there. Her heart sped up when her gaze landed on him, standing along the far wall with Lord Healeyfield. Griff was so different from the lanky lad she’d known once upon a time. He was still irritatingly stubborn. That hadn’t changed a bit, but…Well, there was something different about him. He was devastatingly handsome and he had a confidence about him that he hadn’t always possessed, but there was something more. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “Damn it all,” Ian grumbled under his breath. “What are the odds he’d be here?”

  Ellie pulled her gaze from the captain to glance up at her brother. He could only be complaining about one man. The very one she’d just been gazing at. “Ye might as well tell me whatever it is that’s going on between ye and Griffin Reid. I’ll find out eventually anyway, ye know?”

  Ian’s blue eyes narrowed slightly. If she hadn’t been his sister, the look might have frightened her. But as she was his sister and as she had spent a lifetime ignoring Ian’s expressions over the years, his narrowed eyes and pinched lips had no affect on her.

  “Maybe I’ll just ask Griff to tell me what this is all about,” she said, hoping to trick Ian into telling her. After all, he wouldn’t know that Griff had already refused to tell her a thing. Her brother might very well rather tell her himself than have her learn whatever the truth was from his one-time friend. “I’m sure he’ll tell me.”

  “Then don’t blame me if ye don’t like what you learn.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Before Ellie could ask as much, Ian’s eyes rounded in fear. “That’s yer friend Lady Chloe, isn’t it?”

  Ellie glanced in the direction Ian was staring and bit back a smile. Cat must have thoroughly terrified their brother that afternoon. “Mmm,” she agreed, determined not to give anything away.

  “She, uh, hasn’t set her cap for me, has she?”

  She had, not that Ian had noticed. Instead of giving the girl completely away, however, Ellie giggled. “Oh, Ian, ye think every unmarried girl is determined to ensnare ye in her net. It’s amazing ye can fit that enormous head of yers through the doorway.”

  “Unmarried girls do plot, Ellie. They plot the downfall of unsuspecting men all the time. Ye know they do.”

  Downfall was a bit of an exaggeration. Did men think their lives so spectacularly wonderful without women? Foolish creatures. Men, and titled men in particular, needed wives. Ian was certainly no different than the rest. Why the male of the species tried to hold so desperately onto their bachelor state of life was a complete mystery.

  She grinned up at her brother and said, “Would ye like me to tell Lady Chloe what an irritating, stubborn Scot ye are? Tell her that she’d be better suited to nearly anyone else in the world? That a life with ye would be nothing but eternal misery and regret?”

  Ian nodded, not insulted in the least. “If ye would be so kind to tell every lass ye know, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

  “Very well.” Ellie slid her arm from her brother’s. “I’ll start with Chloe, but I’d like ye to remember I did ye this favor.” Then she started in the direction of the lady in question. Lady Chloe Springate truly was a ninnyhammer. Why the girl was so besotted with Ian was a mystery of its own. But there was no accounting for one’s taste, Ellie supposed.

  Chloe’s green eyes lit up when she spotted Ellie coming her way, and a smile spread across her face. For all that she was a ninnyhammer, she was a rather sweet girl.

  Ellie smiled in return, but she didn’t have time to chat with her friend, not for long anyway. “There is someone I need to speak with, Chloe,” she said softly. “But I did want to warn ye, my brother is not in his best mood this evening. And I believe he has figured out ye’ve got yer eye on him. He is a most suspicious Scot.”

  Chloe’s face paled in an instant. “I didn’t realize he knew who I was. He never even looks in my direction.”

  Ellie
shrugged. “When I finish sorting out another mess, I’ll be of assistance if I can. Though ye might want to set yer sights on some other fellow, Chloe. Ye’re my friend. I really should warn ye – Ian is a most irritating and stubborn man. Ye’d probably be much happier with nearly anyone else in the whole world.”

  Chloe glanced over Ellie’s shoulder, in the direction Ian stood, and she sighed. The poor girl truly was besotted, odd as it was to believe. “But…”

  Ellie shook her head. “Just think about it. As I said, I’ve another situation to sort through.” Then she squeezed her friend’s hand in farewell and started directly for the handsome Captain Reid.

  She had a niggling little thought that perhaps Griffin hadn’t been entirely honest about which event Lord Peasemore meant to attend tonight and that he’d tricked her into being at the Ridgemonts’ as punishment for her promise in the park that morning. It would be just like Griff to try and teach her a lesson, a lesson she had no intention of learning. Blast him.

  As she approached the two officers, Lord Healeyfield nodded his head in greeting, and Griff’s silvery, grey eyes settled on her, nearly robbing Ellie of her breath. It was truly unfair for such a Machiavellian mind to possess such a devastatingly handsome face.

  “Lord Healeyfield,” she said to his friend, and then met Griff’s gaze. “Captain Reid.”

  “Lady Elsepth,” Griff choked out. He hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from Ellie ever since she’d entered the ballroom. She’d been pretty in the park that afternoon, beautiful in her own home, but now with her flaxen hair reflecting the golden chandelier light and adorned in a shimmery, icy blue gown with a scooped bodice meant to draw a man’s eye, she was nothing short of enchanting. Damn her. How was he to keep his wits about him when all he wanted was to slide that dress from her body to run his hands and mouth across her skin?