by Meara Platt
Ewan arched an eyebrow. “You know quite a bit about her research.”
“I know everything that goes on at the Royal Society. Particularly about that nineteen-year-old upstart.”
“Yet Lord Mortimer’s son is working with her, as you’ve just admitted, and you’ve granted him membership in your exalted Society.”
His grandfather was not in the least repentant or ashamed. “She mocks us, compares men to dominant, male baboons. Ashton Mortimer treats his research seriously. His ideas are thoughtful, respectful.”
“Dull as dishwater.”
“Deliberate, building on the ideas of the great men who came before him.”
“Lily’s research is based on foundations set out by Sir William Maitland, an internationally recognized scholar.”
“Forget the girl, Ewan. Come sit down and do stop glowering at me. She isn’t important.”
“She is to me.”
He pinned Ewan with his calculating stare. “Since when have you developed a taste for English women? Too bad your father didn’t. We could have avoided this family nonsense if only your father had behaved.”
The old man was simply goading him now. “This isn’t about my taste in women. It’s about justice and honor, doing the right thing.”
“I see. The sex of the victim, her age and beauty, is irrelevant. What matters is defending a wronged party? And it doesn’t hurt that the wronged party has ruby lips and deep blue eyes and a lithe body that—”
“Enough, Grandfather. I won’t have Lily spoken of that way.” Why had he bothered to call the meeting? Desmond and Evangeline were late. So was Meggie. Where was she anyway? And the old man was having far too much fun baiting him.
“What of the way she spoke about me? I won’t have her insulting me privately or publicly. How dare she send that piece of libel to Lady Hardstocking! The girl is forbidden to step foot in the Royal Society hall until she crawls to me in abject apology.”
Ewan thought it odd that he hadn’t banned her from Lotheil Court as well. Supposedly he had, but Lily had managed to visit him anyway. She was a determined little thing, but not even she could have remained at Lotheil Court against the duke’s wishes unless the duke had decided to look the other way.
Perhaps his grandfather feared that he and Meggie would leave for good if Lily were no longer permitted to grace this mausoleum, as she’d called it in her letter to Lady Hardstocking. That was interesting, perhaps a glimmer of hope that relations might improve among the Camerons.
A commotion at the door distracted Ewan from further thought. In the next moment, Evangeline and Desmond entered the study, Desmond sporting two black eyes and a bandage across his swollen nose, a sign that Ewan had broken it in last evening’s fight. Ewan wasn’t sorry about that. Desmond, the cowardly wanker, had intended far worse for him and Lily.
“Why are we summoned, Grandfather?” Evangeline asked, settling beside the old man and casting him a well-practiced, feminine pout.
He turned away to shoot Ewan an irritated glance. “Ask your cousin. He’s the one who called the meeting.”
All eyes were now on him. All angry. All impatient and dismissive.
Desmond settled in a chair beside Evangeline. “Why bring us here? To gloat over your handiwork in front of Grandfather? You tried to kill me.”
“You’d be dead if that were my intent.” Ewan remained standing near the table, unable to bring himself to sit alongside the threesome. Desmond did look awful. Pathetic, really. The white bandage across his nose a stark contrast to the black circles beneath his eyes. “I called the meeting because I want the attacks to stop. I thought I made that clear when I hauled you off Lily and tossed you halfway across the dress shop the other day, Desmond. Apparently you weren’t paying attention.”
“You’re a beast and an ogre,” Evangeline shouted, rising from her chair. “My brother hasn’t gone near Lily or Meggie since then. But that didn’t stop you from assaulting him. A gentleman. In his own club!”
“You’ve conveniently overlooked the incident at Tattersalls. Your brother’s scum drew a knife on Lily. Four of them attacked me, one of them sticking his calling card between my ribs. Your brother is fortunate I didn’t pay him back in kind.”
“Desmond had nothing to do with it.” Both of his cousins slid glances at their grandfather. Curious, Ewan thought. Did they believe the old man had given orders to those blackguards? Couldn’t be. Ewan had heard the command to attack out of Desmond’s own mouth.
“Your brother was there, Evangeline. He told those men to come at me.”
“I didn’t!” Now Desmond was on his feet. “I saw those strangers circling you and merely uttered what I felt. I didn’t know who they were, but I wanted them to hurt you for all the pain you’ve caused us.”
Ewan shook his head in disgust. “What pain? I haven’t seen you in over a decade. I’ve had nothing to do with any of you. In truth, I never would have contacted you if not for my father’s request.”
Evangeline tossed back her blonde curls. “His deathbed request. How clever of him. He knew Grandfather would never restore his inheritance, so he schemed to put you between us and him. Well, it didn’t work. None of us wants you here. Not even Grandfather. I think his actions have made that perfectly clear.”
The old man slowly rose to his feet, his movement graceful and his manner every bit the imposing duke. His eyes appeared to cloud in confusion. “I want to hear the truth from you, Desmond. My boy, look me in the eye and tell me you had nothing to do with the incident at Tattersalls.”
Desmond’s eyes appeared to cloud in similar confusion. “Of course I had nothing to do with it. I promise you that. I’ll take an oath on it. I thought…” His voice trailed away, but his gaze remained fixed on their grandfather.
“You think I had a hand in it? Me? A duke of the realm! Sending wharf rats to hurt my own flesh and blood? Ordering one of those rats to draw a knife on an innocent girl? Is this what you all think of me? That I’m a detestable old man living in a mausoleum, just as that Farthingale girl wrote?”
“The word is despicable,” said a young female voice at the doorway. “Sorry I’m late. I was out riding and lost track of the time. Grandfather, she called you despicable.”
“Meggie, he gets the point,” Ewan said, nodding for her to approach and join the family meeting. Since all five of them were now standing, their hands balled into fists, it didn’t seem like much had been accomplished during their brief conversation—if that’s what one could call accusations hurled back and forth. But Ewan suddenly felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his chest.
Meggie wasn’t quite so brave as to approach their grandfather. Instead, she stopped beside Ewan, remaining a step behind him and resting a hand lightly on his arm, as though his nearness would somehow protect her from the other three as she spoke to them. “I’m so glad it wasn’t any of you,” she said, revealing that she had heard the discussion before she entered the room. “I know you hate us, but we don’t hate you. That is... we thought we would... but Lily says family shouldn’t hate each other. So I don’t want to hate you anymore. I want to honor my father’s request. I’m glad you didn’t do those awful things.”
Assuming the duke and the cousins could be believed. Ewan ran a hand through his hair in consternation. He wanted to believe them. In truth, he did believe them. It was something he felt in his gut, and that gut instinct had never been wrong. But if not his own family, then who wanted to hurt him?
His grandfather must have had the same thought. “Seems this meeting was productive, after all. But in answering one question, it raises a host of others. Ewan, who could have done this?”
“My problem,” Ewan said. “I’ll deal with it.” Had he made enemies in the Highlands? Someone who wished him ill? Someone who hated him enough to follow him to London and attempt murder?
“It’s a Cameron family problem,” his grandfather said, stiffening his spine and casting all a look to remind them that
he was the Duke of Lotheil, a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed. “I’m head of this family, and while I live and breathe, no one is going to lay a hand on any blood relation of mine.”
Desmond let out a low growl. “I see. That’s what you’ve wanted all along. Any excuse to make up with that side of the family. You don’t care a whit about Evangeline or me. You never wanted me to succeed you as duke. It’s Ewan you want. The Scottish boor. For all your talk of proper English bloodlines, you’re still a Scot. You’ve never escaped your Lowlander roots.”
Evangeline’s lips began to quiver. Lord, she was another one like Meggie, weepy and afraid of her own shadow. A dose of Lily would do her good, Ewan mused. Since Lily had worked wonders on Meggie, she might do the same for his cousin.
“Damn it, Evangeline. Don’t cry,” Desmond said, his voice surprisingly gentle for a man so enraged.
“I can’t help it.”
The duke reached out and took her into his arms. It was the first sign of affection Ewan had ever seen spring from the man. Obviously, the old man wasn’t used to such displays for he held Evangeline awkwardly and looked lost as he patted her hand. “I’m proud of all my grandchildren.”
“You don’t even know us,” Desmond said, a remark that must have cut the old man deeply coming from the grandchild he knew best.
He suddenly looked twice his years, a weary sadness on display as he glanced from grandson to grandson, then to his granddaughters. “Apparently I don’t.” He released Evangeline and turned to walk away, but paused in front of Ewan.
Ewan felt Meggie take another small step back. Even when sad, the proud Duke of Lotheil was a daunting force. Ewan stood his ground and waited for the old man to speak, which he did after a long silence. “Tell that girl she’s no longer banned from Lotheil Court.”
Ewan nodded. Lily had already violated that ban and intended to do so tomorrow as well, so it wasn’t much of a concession. “And the Royal Society?”
His grandfather’s expression hardened. “No. I understand that she’s young and was obviously rattled by the attack upon her person at Tattersalls. But she humiliated me in public, accused me of that crime. Or at the very least, accused me of goading Desmond to commit that crime. I’ve told you, Ewan. She doesn’t step foot in that vaunted hall unless it is to crawl on hands and knees upon the cold marble and apologize to me.”
Ewan held his tongue. Much progress had been made in this meeting. But damn it! He’d sooner build a new hall of science for Lily than ever see her crawl before any man.
He sighed inwardly.
The girl was going to bankrupt him. New gowns, new spectacles, new books, and now a new building. Yes, bless her proud heart and love of science, she was going to leave him flat broke by the end of these three months.
All worth it.
Lily was not going to beg for any man. Not even him... unless it was to beg him to take her to bed. That would happen only in his fantasies. That did happen in his fantasies. Every aching night.
CHAPTER 12
LILY ARRIVED at Lotheil Court the following morning, uncertain what to expect after receiving Meggie’s note the evening before promising something of major importance today. Dillie, who was bored and looking for something to do, decided to come along even though the day was unusually cold and wet.
Lotheil’s staid butler opened the door, saw the two, and stared, wide eyed. It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t seeing double. “Good morning, Harding,” Lily said. “Miss Cameron is expecting us.”
He waved them in, taking their damp cloaks and hats, and started toward the visitors’ salon. “This way, ladies. I’ll ask if Miss Cameron is at home.”
“Of course she’s at home,” Lily whispered to her twin. “Isn’t it the most ridiculous expression? Where would she be at this early hour if not here?” She supposed it was more polite to be “not at home” to visitors one didn’t wish to see. Nicer than saying “Go away, she has better things to do than see you.”
“Harding!” Meggie called in an excited whisper from the top of the stairs. “Let them come up here. Now. Quickly! But do be quiet.”
He led them to the stairs and motioned upward, the put-upon look on his face showing his displeasure at having a pair of look-alike strangers meandering through the Lotheil private quarters. Not that Lily blamed him. What was so important to Meggie that she’d had them come over before noon and was now squealing and hopping excitedly like a frog on one leg?
It couldn’t be anything sinister, for Meggie was all smiles. She looked delightful in a cream-colored day gown trimmed in dark green velvet to match her gleaming eyes. Her chestnut curls bobbed up and down as she grabbed their hands and led them down the hall. “Quickly. This way.”
Lily held her back. “Why so secretive?”
“Be patient. You’ll see.”
She wasn’t one for games at this early hour, but how bad could this adventure be? Meggie wasn’t the wild and reckless sort. She was a sweet girl and painfully unsure of herself when out in society. For that reason, Lily decided to follow along even though the little hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. She didn’t wish to undermine Meggie’s confidence. Any slip in etiquette could be corrected later.
“This way, and remember to be quiet.”
“Why so mysterious?” Dillie asked.
“Ewan’s shaving. I wanted Lily to be the first to see him.”
Lily came to a dead halt. “That’s it? The important event we simply couldn’t miss?” Did Meggie intend for them to burst in and catch him in the act? Lily had believed the utter disregard of privacy was an irritating trait unique to the Farthingales. Apparently, the Camerons had no respect for privacy either.
However, the thought of entering Ewan’s masculine domain sent tingles coursing through her body. The host of butterflies lying dormant in her stomach instantly awoke and began to flutter their wings in a frenzied whirl. “Oh, no. We can’t go in there. It’s impossible. Highly inappropriate.”
Meggie laughed. “I’m not attics-to-let. We’re not going to break into his chamber. We’ll wait in my room. He’s promised to show me the result once he’s done shaving.”
“All well and good, but he won’t expect to find me and Dillie with you. He won’t be pleased.”
“Oh, Lily, my brother won’t mind seeing you. He likes you, though he’d never admit it even if his life depended on it. He’d rather die at the hands of Napoleon’s army. But we know he’s doing this for you.”
He couldn’t possibly, Lily decided at once. She didn’t affect him in a this-woman-is-important-to-me way. She didn’t rouse butterflies in his stomach. Or make his heart beat a little faster with yearning. “I know you mean well, Meggie. I’m going downstairs to the library. Call me when he’s decent.”
Dillie cast her an impertinent grin. “I’ll wait with Meggie.”
Lily tipped her nose into the air. “Do as you wish.”
Her sister sighed. “Come on, Lily. Stay. It’s just innocent fun.”
“But he doesn’t know we’re here. What if he struts into Meggie’s room half dressed?”
“We’ve seen male bodies before. William struts around shirtless half the time and Uncle Rupert often neglects to wear his pants.” She gave a mock shudder as she turned to Meggie. “He has the most hideous, hairy legs.”
“Precisely my point. A man’s privacy ought to be respected.” But the thought of seeing Ewan shirtless, those hard muscles on bold display... goodness, that would be fun.
No, it would be wrong.
Hideously and appallingly wrong.
Not fun at all... well yes, it would be fun... great fun, but very wrong.
She felt her cheeks suffuse with heat. “I’ll be in the library.”
“Coward,” Dillie teased, and then followed Meggie into her bedchamber. Lily heard the pair giggling as they closed the door behind them.
She paused a moment in the hall, wondering at the fuss Meggie was making over her
brother’s beard. Dillie thought it was harmless. Was she supposed to feel excited and want to participate in the silliness as well? She knew she was different. Books excited her.
Baboon colonies excited her.
Losing one’s beard did not. In truth, she liked Ewan’s beard and regretted having asked him to shave it off. All of it. Off, even though it suited his rugged bearing. But it was a necessary sacrifice. He needed to look like an English gentleman.
His father’s family would never accept him as he was.
Lily shook her head and turned toward the stairs, but as she started down the hall, Ewan’s door suddenly burst open and Jasper bolted toward her with an ear-piercing awroooolf!
“Jasper, not my new gown!”
Awrooolf!
The great woolly beast jumped on her, knocking her off balance. Since he was as big as a horse and clumsily unaware of his size, Lily ended up on the floor, breathless. As usual. Jasper’s tongue washed over her face. Blech!
Her spectacles fell off her nose, and she could only hope to grab them before the big oaf stepped on them with his furry paws.
“Jasper, ye looby! Off!”
Lily heard Ewan’s exasperated shout, but couldn’t see him. Jasper was still playfully bouncing beside her, licking her face, and she was drowning in Jasper’s drool.
Ewan tried again in that deep, authoritative voice of his. “Sit!”
Jasper obeyed by sitting on her.
Ewan let out a groaning laugh as he tugged at Jasper’s collar, hauling him off her and handing him over to his valet. “Jergens, lock him away. Somewhere. Anywhere. Bollix, how did he learn to open doors?”
“At once, my lord.”
Then Ewan knelt beside her. “Lass, are you all right?”
Lily felt the exquisite heat of Ewan’s hands on her back as he took her into his arms and helped her to her feet. He had a towel slung over one shoulder, but he slipped it off and used it to wipe the sticky mess Jasper had left on her face. “My spectacles,” she muttered as he rubbed the towel across her cheek.