Brigand (14 page)

Edward threw himself into a large chair by the fire and,
without hesitation, Ewan joined him. This was a man’s chair. It would not
crumble beneath him. Also, there was a decanter of brandy at his elbow. He blew
out a sigh.

Edward poured them both a drink without asking.

“So… That was Sophia.”

Ewan nodded. Took a healthy gulp.

“I begin to comprehend your passion. She’s quite lovely.”

“She is. She deserves nothing but the very best. Your
Grace—”

The duke snorted. “Call me Edward.”

“Edward then. Thank you for honoring your promise.”

Moncrieff’s brow notched up. “I always honor my promises.”
Though it was not inferred in his tone, a flush crawled up Ewan’s neck at the
reminder he had been less than honorable in his dealings with this family.

He stared into the fire, hunting for something to say.
Finally he thought of something. It was bland and inane but it would fill the
silence. “I hear you married Kaitlin. Congratulations.”

Edward nodded. The sound he made might have been a sigh. “I
was rather pleased to learn you had not debauched her.” Ewan’s bowels churned.
No. He had not debauched Kaitlin. He’d been too busy ruining Violet to get
around to it. “By the way, how’s your cheek?”

Ewan rubbed his jawline. “Hardly a twinge anymore.”

“Sorry about that. It’s just, when she came down those
stairs wearing nothing but your shirt and a blanket, I lost my mind.”

“No need to apologize, Edward.” Ewan raked his hair. He’d
deserved it. “I-I feel the need to apologize as well.”

Moncrieff raised a patrician brow. “Do you? For what?
Kidnapping Violet—”

“That was Callum MacAllister—”

“Or holding her in that wretched keep? Or strong-arming
Kaitlin into an unwanted betrothal. Or…was there anything else?”

Hell yes. There was.

“For all of it. I was a desperate man. I regret any harm
I’ve caused.”

“Hmm.” Edward refilled their glasses and they sipped in
silence. “On that note…” Ewan’s pulse kicked up a notch as Edward picked up the
thread of the conversation. “What did happen between you and Violet while she
was at the Cloud?”

He nearly spilled his drink. “Did-did she say anything?”

Edward pinned him with a sharp stare. “She’s told us
nothing. But if she did, what would she say?”

“Why do you ask?”

Moncrieff shrugged. “She’s just not been herself since she
came back.”

Concern skirled through him. “What do you mean, not
herself?”

A shrug. “She’s listless. Quiet. Stares off into space at
dinner. Sighs a lot. Granted, the house is more peaceful without her
mischief—when the boys aren’t lighting fires in the garret. But she’s a far cry
from her old self. Kaitlin is worried.”

Ewan slumped in his chair and steepled his fingers,
brooding. The prospect that Violet languished over her ordeal, over their
encounters at the Cloud, tore at his heart. He rather hoped she would remember
him fondly, if she thought of him at all. “Do you think she’s ill?”

Moncrieff barked a laugh. “Ill? Does that sound like an
illness you’ve ever heard of?” His gaze sharpened until Ewan felt like a bug
pinned to a wall. “I think she’s pining.”

“Pining?”

“Is there any reason she would be pining?”

Hell. Ewan tried desperately not to squirm. “Not that I… I
don’t… She… We…” Hell.

Edward shot him a simmering glance. “I thought as much.” He
tossed back his drink and stood. “Do I need to ask for satisfaction?”

Ewan blanched. He leapt to his feet as well.
“S-satisfaction? Are you challenging me to a duel?” Why his voice squeaked on
the word, he had no clue.

“Do I need to?”

“Might I remind you, duels are illegal in England.”

“When has something as inconsequential as the law ever
stopped you?”

Ewan’s mouth opened but an appropriate retort escaped him.
So he snapped it shut.

“Don’t get me wrong, McCloud. Of all the men in the world I
would choose for Violet, you are far from my first choice. But if she has
tender feelings for you… If what I suspect happened between the two of you in
Scotland did happen, you will offer for her.”

Every fiber of Ewan’s being seized. His mind went blank. Was
he being ordered by a peer of the realm to marry the only woman on earth he
wanted to hold in his arms? He knew it was an impossibility—hell, she hated
him, after all, and after all he was a foul lowlife—but he couldn’t still the
little thrill that scoured through his veins at the thought.

His voice was ragged when he responded, “She won’t have me.”

Edward stilled. “You don’t deny it then?”

“I cannot. I also cannot deny I am in love with her.”

Ah. That took Moncrieff aback. “You-you’re in love with
her?” This he sputtered on a laugh.

“Utterly.” He scrubbed his face. “And she despises me.”

“I suspect she does not despise you.”

Ewan leveled him with a frown. “I am hardly refined. She
deserves a gentleman at the very least.”

“We can polish your edges.”

Ewan snorted. “I have very rough edges.”

“Have you met Aunt Hortense? She turned me from a degenerate
rake into a devoted husband. Surely she can turn a Scottish brigand into a
well-trained house pup.”

Ewan wasn’t sure he cared for such a fate. But hell, if
Edward was offering to help him win Violet, he would do whatever it took. “All
right. But it may take time to…woo her.”

Edward seemed less than pleased. “I will expect an offer by
the end of the season. But know this, McCloud. If you so much as bruise that
girl’s heart—I will kill you.”

And Ewan didn’t doubt him for an instant. He was hardly that
big a fool.

But it wasn’t trepidation dancing in his soul. It was hope.

Blissful, glorious, glittering hope.

It wasn’t even shattered when Edward added as an
afterthought, “Oh, and don’t tell Ned you despoiled his sister. If he finds
out, he will shoot you.”

* * * * *

When Ewan arrived at William’s townhouse, where he planned
to stay for the duration, he found his friend in residence. He greeted him with
surprise and not a small fraction of pleasure. Truth be told, he’d felt a
little bereft driving away from Wyeth House all alone and wasn’t looking
forward to the prospect of spending the next three months in his own company.

William clapped him on the shoulder and led him into the
library. “Welcome to London, my friend,” he said with a wide grin.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

William shrugged and poured them both a drink. “I wasn’t
planning on coming when I offered you the house but then some business…arose.”
He slanted a glance in Ewan’s direction. “I hope you don’t mind my presence?”

“Not at all. In fact I think I might appreciate seeing a
friendly face now and again.”

Gray eyes glittered with humor. “Was it that bad?”

Ewan blew out a breath. “Worse.”

“Moncrieff was an ass then?”

“Not a bit of it. He was actually quite cordial. Once I
apologized.”

William barked a laugh. “Never say it. The indomitable
McCloud? Groveling for forgiveness?”

“Hardly groveling.”

“Still, a sight many a man would pay to see.”

“Thankfully it was a private conversation.”

William lifted his glass. “Small favors.”

“Aye.”

“So what are the plans for the season?”

“Apparently I shall be spending a lot of money.”

William threw back his head and laughed again. “I could have
told you that.”

“There’s to be a party and a debut ball. I’ve been
instructed to attend dinner tonight to discuss the details of those.”

“Instructed?” A tawny brow winged upward. “By whom?”

“Hortense Bigby.”

“Never heard of her.”

“She’s Moncrieff’s aunt and the general in charge of this
assault.”

“You say that in jest, my friend, but you have no idea how
fierce these
tonnish
harpies can be.”

“I have no idea about any of this.” It was true. Discomfort—that
horrible sense of being completely out of his element—prickled at his nape.

“Not to worry. I shall coach you. Don’t gape at me so. My
father is a baron and a member of the House of Lords. I’ve been through all
this before.”

“Your father is a member of Parliament?” Good God. When he
thought of all the mischief he and William had gotten into together, his blood
went cold.

William just laughed. “The expression on your face is
priceless. Yes. My father is a member of Parliament. But I, good sir, am the
black sheep of the family. Nevertheless, I should be able to give you some
pointers. I take it you can arrange an invitation to the soirees for me?”

“Yes. Certainly.” At least he assumed he could.

“Excellent. Now,” he rubbed his hands together, “where shall
we begin?”

* * * * *

“You look beautiful, Violet.” Kaitlin’s voice was a balm,
soothing and soft. But still, all Violet wanted to do was run away from the
girl in the mirror, the girl decked out in a gorgeous white gown laced with
dazzling stones, with her hair arranged in an exquisite knot at the top of her
head. She wanted to run away and burrow in the covers of her bed.

She set her palm to her belly, trying to ease the churning
there. “I don’t see why I need to attend.” This, a whisper. But Kaitlin heard.

“Silly girl.” Her friend softened the words with a smile.
Kaitlin was breathtaking as well. She wore an exquisite burgundy-and-gold
gown—the Moncrieff colors. Diamonds winked in her ears and around her neck. She
looked…like a duchess. “It’s your coming out as well.” They had decided to
combine debuts for the two girls although, in truth, most of the attendees
would be there purely to get a glimpse of the new Duchess of Moncrieff. Judging
from the responses they’d received, tonight would be a crush. Violet was
dreading it.

The past two weeks had been a whirl of fittings and teas.
There had been dancing lessons for Sophia and ceaseless visits to the
mantua-makers and milliners. An endless parade of appointments and meetings and
lectures from Aunt Hortense.

Of Ewan, she’d seen nothing.

And she was happy about that. She was.

Oh, he’d been to the house. He’d come to visit Sophia or
speak with Edward nearly every day, but other than dinner the night he arrived,
she hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of him.

Probably because whenever she was not expected to be
somewhere else, she was in her room. Under the covers. She glanced longingly at
her bed.

Kaitlin sat down on the bench next to Violet, wrapping her
arm around her. “Remember when we used to talk about a night like this? Back at
Lady Satterlee’s? A glittering ballroom. Handsome men vying for our attention?
Dancing until we were breathless?”

A tear leaked from the corner of Violet’s eye. Those had
been the stupid dreams of a child.

“Now, now. None of that.” Kaitlin dabbed at her cheek with a
lacy handkerchief. “Chin up, Violet. You need to be happy tonight. You need to
smile.”

There was nothing to smile about.

Kaitlin blew out a breath and gazed at their reflections.
Her shoulders slumped. “You’re nervous because he will be here, aren’t you?”

Violet started and shot her friend a frown.

“Don’t worry.” She smoothed a strand of Violet’s hair.
“Edward and Ned will be there too. You’ll be safe.”

This reassurance earned a snort. She wasn’t afraid of Ewan.
Heaven have mercy. The last thing she felt when she thought of him was fear.

Kaitlin leapt to her feet and paced. “I wish he wasn’t
coming. He has to be there. It’s his sister’s party. But if you like I will
stand by your side all night long.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“He will stick out like a bruised thumb, a man like him.
I’ll be surprised if someone doesn’t mistake him for a groom.”

That comment lanced Violet’s heart. Because he had been a
groom. Once upon a time. “Please, Kaitlin…”

Her friend ignored her, continuing to pace. “Imagine the
gall. After everything that happened, coming here. Asking Edward for favors.
Thank God Edward was able to keep that mess with him quiet. No one knows what
happened in Scotland—”

“It wasn’t a favor.”

Kaitlin stopped short and spun around. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t a favor. It was an agreement. Didn’t Edward tell
you? He agreed to host a season for Sophia in exchange for Callum’s debt. And
to let us both go.”

Kaitlin plopped down on the bed, her mouth agape. “H-he
forgave the debt?”

“Every penny.”

“It was an enormous amount of money.” A whisper.

“He’s really not such a bad man, Kaitlin.” Violet didn’t
know why she felt the need to defend Ewan. She certainly didn’t know why it was
suddenly so important that Kaitlin accept him.

It wasn’t as though he was anything to her. He would never
be anything to her other than a sweet, painful memory she kept locked away for
those precious hours in the deep clutch of night.

Kaitlin studied her for a moment and then became suddenly
fixated on the folds of her gown. “I’ve been wondering about something,” she
finally murmured.

“Yes?”

Her eyes flicked up, intent, searching. “How do you really
feel about Ewan McCloud?”

Violet tried desperately to keep her expression completely
blank. Apparently she failed. She saw it in Kaitlin’s face.

Her friend came up off the bed and then, though she was
dressed in a priceless gown, she dropped to her knees at Violet’s feet. “Oh,
darling. You care for him. After everything that happened?”

Violet didn’t mean to put out a lip. It went out all on its
own. Tears welled.

“Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“B-because. He doesn’t feel the same.”

Kaitlin sat back on her haunches and stared. “He doesn’t?”

“N-no.”