One Night With the Laird (9 page)

MacLeod smiled. “Mairi will not be pleased at my interference, but as head of this clan I still have the right to order her marriage.”

Mairi, Jack thought, would be absolutely furious to be so manipulated. Knowing her penchant for independence and for controlling her own life, he was willing to bet that she would be outraged that the head of her clan sought to interfere.

It would almost be worth agreeing just to see her face.

Silence fell again but for the soft hiss and spit of the fire as the wood fell apart with a shower of sparks. Outside, the day was still bright. Jack could see little ripples of breeze ruffling the surface of Loch Carron. In the distance an elegant black traveling carriage turned off the road to Achnasheen and started up the drive toward the house. Jack recognized it at once.

“I see that your daughter-in-law visits you on her way to Methven,” he said.

“Lady Mairi always calls on us when she is passing Strome,” Lord MacLeod said. “I was hoping to have your decision to place before her.”

He put his empty glass on the table with a soft click and made absolutely no attempt to persuade Jack further to his point of view.

Jack watched the coach as it rolled along the lime avenue toward the castle. He allowed himself to consider, just for a moment, the merits of Lord MacLeod’s plan. Shocking as it was to admit it, there were aspects of the commission that tempted him. Life had been tame lately. When he had returned to Scotland from Canada he had seen the purchase of his estate at Glen Calder as his next challenge, but as soon as that was running efficiently he had felt the same restlessness of spirit possess him again. He could never settle. He thought he never would. Business could occupy him for a while—he had invested in ironworks, engineering and ship building, in luxury imports for the thriving New Town of Edinburgh—but he always felt as though there was something lacking in his life. If he agreed to help MacLeod, it would at least fill a few idle hours. After the christening at Methven he could seek out Mr. Michael Innes, discover the man’s plans and persuade him in the nicest way possible to desist from them.

Then there was Lady Mairi. He wanted her very much and he was sure she could be easily persuaded into rekindling their affair. Her incendiary response to him the previous night proved it. Accepting Lord MacLeod’s commission would place him close to her, acknowledged as her fiancé in public. He could take advantage of that public respectability to be her lover in private. Just the thought of it was sufficient to cause his body to harden into arousal. It would be dishonorable of him to use the situation to gain Mairi as a mistress, but then acting with such ruthlessness had never troubled him before.

There was the crunch of carriage wheels on gravel outside, the slam of a door. It was time to decide.

The library door swung open.

In the moment before she realized that he was there, Jack saw a very different Mairi MacLeod from the one who had treated him with such prickly disdain. She did not wait for the butler to announce her but hurried forward toward Lord MacLeod smiling, her hands outstretched. She was wearing a yellow traveling gown. The color clashed gloriously with her hair and made her look like a flash of sunlight in the shadows of the room. There was such luminous happiness in her face that Jack felt something shift inside him, an odd, hollow sense of loss he could not understand.

Lord MacLeod was smiling too as he pulled himself to his feet and inclined a cheek for her kiss.

Then Mairi saw Jack and stopped. The sun was still shining, but to Jack it felt as though the temperature in the room had plummeted by several degrees. He saw her eyes narrow and in that moment he knew she was wondering what on earth he was doing there and whether her father-in-law knew anything of the true nature of their relationship.

Her chin came up a notch in the resolute way Jack recognized. She did not look intimidated or scared. She looked him directly in the eye.

Jack smiled blandly at her. He had no objection to keeping her guessing as to his business at Strome Castle.

“Mairi, my dear,” Lord MacLeod was saying, “I believe you know Mr. Rutherford? He has kindly agreed to act on my behalf and deal with Michael Innes.”

Mairi looked comically taken aback. She also looked deeply disapproving and made no attempt to hide it. “Are you sure, my lord?” she asked. “I cannot conceive of Mr. Rutherford doing anything so chivalrous.”

Jack made his decision.

“I would be delighted,” he said promptly, bowing.

The suspicion and doubt deepened in her eyes, challenging him to honesty. “Would you, indeed, sir?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. And in order to strengthen my hand in dealing with the gentleman, your father-in-law and I have agreed that you and I should become betrothed.”

Mairi’s mouth fell open. She closed it with a snap. “I beg your pardon? You and I should
what?
”

“We are betrothed,” Jack said. He came across to her and took her hand in his. He kissed her, a light respectful kiss on the cheek, and smiled as she pulled away from her as though he had bitten her.

“Gently,” he murmured, his breath stirring her hair. “You don’t want to upset your father-in-law. He is very pleased with his plan.”

At such close quarters he could see the golden flecks in the stormy blue of her eyes and the furious line of those lush red lips so close to his own. His body stirred.

“One of us is clearly insane,” Mairi said, “and I do not believe it is me.” Her glorious blue eyes narrowed on him. “Tell me, Mr. Rutherford,” she said. “Before I smash this plan to smithereens, what could possibly induce you to agree to a betrothal with me? What would you gain?”

Jack smiled and drew her the last quarter inch so that his lips rested against her ear.

“You,” he said.

CHAPTER NINE

A
HALF
HOUR
later and Jack was sitting in the drawing room at Strome with a fresh pot of coffee and a three-day-old newspaper to peruse. Lady Mairi was still closeted with her father-in-law in the library, presumably in the throes of trying to persuade him to abandon his plan. Jack had no objections to the wait. He was enjoying himself far more than he had ever imagined he would. He was also certain that Mairi would not prevail. The laird was old but he had a will of iron.

He heard a door slam and the sound of running footsteps. A moment later, Mairi erupted into the drawing room. She looked infuriated. Her cheeks were pink, her blue eyes bright with anger. Jack found he liked her like this, with her elegant facade rubbed away by real raw emotion. She had been hiding herself before but now those barriers were down and he felt a leap of response through his entire body. He cast his newspaper aside.

“Meeting not go well?” he inquired.

Mairi gave him a contemptuous look. “My father-in-law,” she said, “has heard that as there are certain rumors going around that I have indulged in sexual profligacy—” she spat out the words “—and considers that it would be in my interests to gain the protection of your name immediately.”

Jack grinned. “Sexual profligacy? Sounds interesting. Tell me more.”

“I don’t need to tell you more,” Mairi flashed. “You were there!” She ran her hands through her hair, scattering the diamond-headed pins on the polished floor of the drawing room, where they winked in the sun. “This is all your fault.”

“That is a little unfair,” Jack said mildly, “given that
you
seduced
me
rather than the other way around.”

Mairi cast him another furious glance, but she did not contradict him. “Damnation,” she said. “The only time—” She broke off.

“You’ve never been caught before?” Jack said.

Again that sharp blue gaze skewered him. “I’ve never indulged in sexual profligacy before, Mr. Rutherford.” Her tone was caught somewhere between exasperation and despair.

Jack was rather pleased to hear it. He suspected she was telling the truth. She was far too controlled, far too careful, to take such a risk. Which made it all the more interesting that she had taken that risk with him.

“Damnation,” she said again, softly this time. She rubbed her forehead. More pins fell from the enchanting confection of curls held in place by her yellow bandeau, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders, making her look deliciously ruffled. “I cannot believe how they have built a monstrous scandal out of next to nothing.”

“Not a particularly flattering description of our night together,” Jack said.

She smiled reluctantly at that. “Your confidence can take it,” she said. “It is completely intact, unlike my reputation.” She tapped her fingers irritably on the table. “Normally I would not regard it,” she said. “Gossip will always fade and I am a widow, so I have some license. But with Michael Innes sniffing around for scandal, this could not have happened at a worse time.”

“So I understand,” Jack said. “Lord MacLeod said that Innes was intent on slandering you in the courts in order to gain possession of your fortune.”

Mairi shot him a sideways glance. “Was that all he told you?”

“No,” Jack said. “He told me that if Innes dug too hard for scandal he might expose old secrets that would be dangerous even now. Secrets to do with your late husband.”

On reflection he was not sure that he wanted to do anything to preserve the memory of the sainted Archibald MacLeod. Jealousy was not an emotion that he was particularly familiar with, but he was tolerably certain he was feeling it now because he wanted Mairi MacLeod. He wanted to take her to his bed and make her forget that Archie had ever existed, and soon he would do precisely that.

He saw Mairi close her eyes briefly. When she opened them he was shocked at the naked despair he saw there. The laird evidently had not exaggerated. This was a powerful secret. Which strengthened his hand since Mairi would be prepared to do anything to keep it hidden. He had no compunction about exploiting the situation. This was business, the business of seduction, and if Mairi needed his protection, then he would drive a hard bargain in return.

“I cannot conceive,” Mairi said, “how my father-in-law could have chosen so inappropriate a man as you to help us, Mr. Rutherford. I am still waiting for you to explain how that came about.” She was leaning both palms on the marble-topped table now. The position was enticing, thrusting her breasts forward against the flimsy muslin bodice of her gown while the skirts skimmed the curve of her buttocks and thighs. Clearly she had no idea of the picture she presented. The train of Jack’s thoughts was inevitable, so much so that she had to repeat herself before he even registered that she was speaking.

“I beg your pardon?” he said.

She frowned as though he were a simpleton. “I am waiting for you to explain your connection to Strome and the MacLeod family. Are you not attending?”

“I am,” Jack said, allowing his gaze to appraise her most thoroughly, “but not to your question.”

She straightened up with a huff, folding her arms across her chest, her cheeks blazing. “Mr. Rutherford! Just answer the question.”

“I knew Ruraidh MacLeod in Canada,” Jack said. “I call on his parents occasionally.”

Mairi looked startled. “Do you?” she said. “I would not have expected you to be so thoughtful.”

“Don’t mind my feelings,” Jack said.

“I don’t.” She was looking at him as though she suspected him of keeping something back. “I suppose that might explain why Lord MacLeod would turn to you for help,” she said grudgingly, “though why you would agree...”

“I’ve explained that, as well,” Jack said. “I intend to work this situation to my advantage.”

She shot him another glance, sharp and intensely blue. “You mentioned that earlier,” she said. “Since I am no naive virgin, I can only assume that the price of your help is that I become your mistress.” Her voice dripped contempt. “You have an odd idea of the privileges of a fiancé. In all the books of conduct I have read, a betrothed gentleman may fetch a lady a glass of lemonade and dance with her three times at a single ball. That is as daring as it gets.”

“I think,” Jack said, “that you will find my interpretation of the role a great deal more enjoyable.” He wanted her already, wanted her here, now. She was so deliciously tempting and the awareness between them blazed like fire.

She dropped into the seat opposite his, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. “Can I not appeal to your honor?” she said softly. Her eyes were a candid blue. She looked sincere. Jack sighed. He was getting a little tired of people asking him to exert a quality he simply did not own. Why they should assume he possessed integrity just because he was the son of a gentleman was a mystery to him. It was not that he did not have his own code of ethics; he did. But when it came to seducing a woman he was attracted to and who he knew wanted him too, he would not hesitate.

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke gently. “Self-interest is the basis of all my relationships.”

Mairi shook her head slightly. She was frowning. “That cannot be so. You and Robert are close. You must be. You have worked with him for the past ten years.”

“It has always been to my advantage to do so,” Jack said.

Mairi looked horrified as though she had cherished some sort of illusion about his family relationships. “I thought you were to be godfather to Ewan—”

Jack cut her off with a shake of the head. “I refused. Responsibility without profit is not to my advantage.”

He saw the look of withdrawal come into her eyes. Yet it seemed she could not quite believe him to be so callous. “Then what about your grandmother?”

A memory unrolled in Jack’s mind, unwanted, unbidden, of the jail door swinging open and his grandmother standing there, her silk and lace so incongruous amid the dirt and the squalor, the shouts of the drunks and the screams of the madmen. He remembered being fiercely ashamed of the state he was in, the stench of the alcohol on his clothes, the blood and the filth. She had taken him away from that and had forced him to make something of his life. But she had not been able to undo the rest of the damage. It was too late for that. He had failed too many people. He had known there and then through the shame and the humiliation that he could never allow himself to care again, never allow himself to
love,
because he would lose, he would fail again, and that could never happen.

This time he cut Mairi off with a chop of the hand.

“Take it from me that I have no finer feelings,” he said. “I may be a gentleman by birth, but by nature I am a man who drives a hard bargain. Your presence in my bed is the price I will extract for my help. Take it or leave it.”

Mairi jumped to her feet. “Somehow I do not believe you discussed that part of your plan with my father-in-law,” she said. “He believes you to be honorable.” She gestured toward the door. “I should go back in there and tell him exactly what sort of man you really are.”

Jack grabbed her wrist. “But you won’t, will you?” he said softly. “Because you need my help. You need me quite...desperately. We must preserve your...spotless...reputation, in public at least so that your late husband’s secrets may remain hidden.”

Their eyes met. He saw anger and contempt in hers, but also something close to desolation. She was trapped, and she hated it. For a woman like Mairi MacLeod who was so accustomed to taking command, he could see it was the most frustrating thing in the world to be so powerless. She would hate to have to submit, and yet if she did not she stood to lose all she cared for.

“You are quite intolerable,” she said.

“Agreed,” Jack said. “And yet you will have to tolerate me somehow if you want my help.”

Mairi shot him another glance from those smoky blue eyes. This one he felt in the groin.

“Under normal circumstances,” she said, “you are the very last man on earth I would agree to be betrothed to, but unfortunately there is no one else.”

“Thank you,” Jack said.

“If there was any other way—” Mairi said.

“We’ll take that as read,” Jack said.

She inclined her head. “As soon as it is possible, I will jilt you,” she said. “Thoroughly and with considerable satisfaction.”

“Not before I have made love to you,” Jack said. “Thoroughly and with considerable satisfaction.”

Her eyes were huge, shadowed with emotions he could neither read nor understand. He put out a hand and touched one of the auburn curls that had escaped from her bandeau. It was soft and it wound trustingly about his fingers like a silken noose. He cupped her cheek. Her skin was soft too; in a flash he was remembering the tender curves and hollows of her body and he was plunged into a sexual need so acute and primitive he almost dragged her into his arms.

Instead, exerting extreme self-control, he slid his hand to the nape of her neck and drew her forward a little until their lips were only a couple of inches apart.

It was like igniting a fire. When his thigh brushed the material of her gown, she gave a tiny gasp. Her eyes darkened to smoky, slumberous dark blue. Her lips parted.

So she felt it too; he had known she had, known from the moment he had kissed her at Ardglen that the attraction between them was both mutual and raging hot. But this confirmation, the evidence that she was as close to the edge of control as he, was almost enough to push him straight over that edge.

“Surrender to me,” he whispered. “Last time you took what you wanted. This time it’s my turn.”

His mind was full of the images of the previous night they had spent together, her body slick and heated against his, over his, beneath his.

She put a hand against his chest. He could almost imagine that that felt hot too, that her touch branded him.

Then, as though from a vast distance he realized that she was holding him off, not drawing him to her. They were still very close, almost touching.

“You’re a blackmailer,” she whispered, her lips moving against his. “You seek to take advantage of my weakness. You are no better than Mr. Innes.”

Jack smiled. “I think you’ll find that I am a lot better than Mr. Innes,” he said, “or indeed anyone else.” He changed the angle of his head slightly, seeking to deepen the kiss. His tongue touched the corner of her mouth, then slid across her lower lip. She opened to him at once, as though she could not resist. She tasted of strawberries and sunlight and he felt a rush of raw sexual need.

“Well?” he said as he released her.

“I can’t—” Mairi said.

“I think you probably can,” Jack said. He ran his thumb over her lower lip and felt her quiver in response.

“I don’t respond well to blackmail,” she said.

“On the contrary,” Jack said. “You just did.”

She shook her head slightly. He was not sure if she was disappointed in him or in herself. If her poor opinion was for him, that scarcely mattered, but he found that he did not like her being disappointed in herself. Which was odd, as he had no idea why he should care.

“Tell yourself you have no choice,” he advised, “if you wish to pretend you are virtuous.”

Her eyes were full of disillusion. “There is always a choice, Mr. Rutherford. If I become your mistress, I am not going to deceive myself that it was anyone’s choice but my own.”

Jack smiled at her formal use of his name. “If you are going to become my mistress,” he said, “you should call me Jack. Since we are betrothed it is perfectly acceptable for you to use it publicly—Mairi.”

She looked shocked. A woman who had given her body to him without inhibition looked shocked when he addressed her by her given name. That amused him.

“You take liberties,” she said stiffly.

“I’ve barely started,” Jack said.

He kissed her again. There was resistance in her, and indecision and a tumult of other emotions that he could sense and not understand, but when she opened her lips to his he forgot everything and lost himself in the driving need he had for her. When he released her, her eyes were blank with shock and she pressed her fingers to her lips.