The Laird Who Loved Me (32 page)

He swung his feet off the side of the bed and rubbed his face. Good God, how could he have allowed this to happen? What in hell had he done?

“A bit of a hangover, my lord?” MacCready was looking into the empty rum pot.

“Aye, but it will leave soon enough.” Alexander tried to think, but couldn’t. All he could do was call himself a fool.

Well, they’d finish their wagers, then leave this damned house party and return to their lives. He’d run the MacLean clan, and she would eventually marry.

His heart unexpectedly ached at the thought.
That could be me. I could
demand
she marry me; she gave herself to me.
But for what purpose? A year or two of happiness and sexual fulfillment, then he’d grow older and the years between them would be more obvious, more of a problem. She would eventually wish she were married to a younger man and would take a lover. And who would blame her?

“MacCready, set out wash water and my clothes. I wish to go down to breakfast as soon as possible.”

“Right now? But it’s hardly nine o’clock. You never appear before ten.”

“Then there will be more bacon for me.”

“But, my lord, surely—”

“Now.”

MacCready’s lips tightened, but he said nothing more as he laid out Alexander’s clothes.

Judging from the sounds coming from the breakfast room, more than one person was already there. Maybe Caitlyn? No, she was probably still in her room, recuperating from last night. He was exhausted this morning and she must be, as well. He could only hope she hadn’t awoken regretting their impulsive encounters.

Heart heavy, he walked into the breakfast room and came to a complete halt.

Looking delicate and fresh, her hair still damp from a bath, Caitlyn was resplendent in green brocade with rose trim. Alexander wasn’t sure of her expression, for he didn’t dare look at her for long. She sat between Lady Elizabeth and Lord Falkland, Miss Ogilvie sitting across from them, in deep conversation with the Earl of Caithness.

There was no sign of Dervishton, which was a good thing. Alexander wasn’t through with him just yet.

Alexander murmured a greeting to Falkland, but kept his eyes from Caitlyn, giving her time to compose herself. This had to be difficult for her, and he
wished he’d caught her by herself so he could reassure her that he would protect them both. He’d discreetly reassure her with a compassionate, calming look for now.

He filled his plate with whatever was closest on the buffet, took the seat opposite hers, and stole his first glance.

To his surprise, she appeared neither pale nor wan, but amazingly calm and healthy, laughing at something Falkland said and eating with the enthusiasm of a sailor who’d been living off hardtack for the last six months.

The sight disconcerted Alexander, and he frowned.

Caitlyn sent him a grin, a decidedly devilish expression in her brown eyes. “Good morning, MacLean. I can see you have quite an appetite today.”

“What?”

“Your plate.”

He looked down and realized he’d placed about fifteen sausages and nothing else on his plate. “Oh. Yes, well, I wished to keep Falkland there from stealing them all.”

“I don’t even eat sausage!” Falkland protested. The young lord immediately began to discuss the various meats he did and did not eat, and Alexander wished he hadn’t mentioned sausage at all.

The meal passed with interminable slowness, the women talking excitedly about the masquerade that was planned for the evening’s amusement. While
Falkland and Caithness agreed with every comment put to them.

He was relieved when Caitlyn finally excused herself to change into a walking gown so she could accompany Miss Ogilvie for a stroll about the lake.

Alexander waited a moment, then excused himself and went after her. He caught her on the stairwell. “Caitlyn!”

She turned to face him, a spontaneous smile curving her mouth. “Yes?”

She is genuinely glad to see me.
His heart leaped at the thought and he smiled back at her, savoring the warmth of her welcome.

Then he caught himself.
What in hell am I doing? She’s not for me.

As his smile dimmed, so did hers, a look of uncertainty in her face. “Did you … did you wish to speak to me?”

He steeled himself. “Yes. I . . . I . . . I . . .” Good God, why
had
he chased her out here into the hallway? He’d wanted to speak to her, but he didn’t have a specific topic. He’d just . . . wanted to see her.

The realization struck him like a hammer.
Am I beginning to actually care for her? That’s impossible! I’ve only known her a few months, and most of those I was simply trying to win my way into her bed.

He rubbed his neck, suddenly weary. What was he doing?

She smiled as if sensing his uncertainty. “Actually, I’m glad you caught up with me. I want you to know
that I think last night was”—her cheeks flushed but she continued resolutely—“it was very nice.”

Nice? Hell, it’d been a lot of things, but
nice
wasn’t one of them. It had been wonderful, fantastic . . . his balls still hummed from it. It had also made his life unbearably complicated. “I’m sorry about the whole thing.”

“Sorry?” she said in an odd voice. “You’re
sorry
?”

He had to move away from this dangerous precipice that his heart was perched on. If he didn’t, there would be nothing but pain for them both. “Caitlyn, I—”

“There is nothing to be sorry about. I made the decision to enjoy your company, and I did. I certainly don’t expect you to apologize or offer marriage or—”

“That’s good,” he snapped. “Because I don’t plan on marrying anyone, ever.”

She flushed, her mouth tightening. “No, of course not. Although
some
people might see such intimacy as the sign of more than mere friendship.” Her chin was high, her gaze locked with his. “I’m talking about love, MacLean, in case you missed it. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

He was a welter of confusing sentiments, but he refused to examine which. “I can’t offer you either love
or
marriage, so it’s best we keep them off the table.”

She gave a brittle laugh. “You’re so focused on those blasted wagers.”

“Aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I suppose so.” Her eyes glistened as if she were on the brink of tears. “Fine, MacLean.
We’ll keep this relationship focused on our wagers. That, and nothing more.”

“Good.”

She turned and ran the rest of the way up the stairs, leaving him alone and feeling oddly bereft. What in hell was wrong with him?

He was definitely in lust, and perhaps deeply in like, for she was an extraordinary woman. But was he in love? Was it too late?

It couldn’t be; he wouldn’t allow it.

Irritated at himself, he returned to his room and rang for MacCready, deciding to spend the rest of the day on his horse. At least it wouldn’t befuddle him and leave him feeling as if, in some indefinable way, he was lacking.

The carriage rumbled up the narrow road, swaying over the uneven surface.

Muiren stuck her head out the carriage window and peered up at the house perched on the cliff overhead. “Who’d have thought Old Woman Nora would live like a queen in such a grand house?”

Caitlyn smiled. “Mam’s done well for herself, considering she had nothing at one time.”

“Married into money, did she?”

“Yes, although grandfather used to say he was the one who got the bigger prize. She’s dreadfully spoiled. Grandfather was crazy about her and could never tell her no.”

“She’s a strong woman, I’ll tell ye that.”

“So she is.” Caitlyn was glad she’d inherited some of that same strength. But though she could hold her own in most areas, she was woefully weak where Alexander MacLean was concerned.

“Ye think yer mam can help ye with the last challenge?”

“She has to. I’m at a loss as to how to complete it without losing my reputation.”

Muiren turned red. “I canno’ believe MacLean would ask ye to do such a thing! He’s no’ much of a gentleman to ask ye to bathe naked in the garden fountain. I dinna care if he stole the idea from a famous myth or no’!”

“He’s not a gentleman at all.” Which was no surprise, as he’d told her that on their first meeting. What had been a surprise was the discovery that
she
was no lady. She’d always had her suspicions. Her sister Triona was always polite, always proper and gracious. Caitlyn had spent her entire life trying to live up to that standard and failing miserably, but never had she rushed so headlong into such “nonladylike” behavior as with MacLean.

And while she enjoyed their mutual passion immensely, something had changed. Whether with her or him, she didn’t know, but it left her feeling bereft and sad. She’d hardly eaten anything since breakfast. Surely Mam would know how to cure such an illness?

The carriage climbed the final steep curve and turned onto a beautifully groomed drive that lead up to a large, square stone manor, the roof covered in deep gray slate tiles, the walls of the darkest gray river rock, the mullioned windows glistening in the sun.

“Yer mam dinna dress as if she lives here.”

“I know. It’s the bane of her servants’ lives, too.”

The carriage pulled to a halt just as the front door opened and an elderly woman wrapped in a shapeless, gray pelisse stepped onto the stoop, a large covered basket over her arm. She stopped when she saw the carriage, and her weathered face broke into a grin when Caitlyn leaned out the window and yelled, “Mam!”

Too impatient to wait for the footman, Caitlyn opened the carriage door, hopped out, ran to her grandmother, and was instantly enveloped in a hard hug. As thin as Mam was, she was amazingly strong.

“Och, me girl! What are ye doin’ here?”

“I came for some advice.”

“Ye did, did ye?” Mam couldn’t have looked more pleased. “Ye’d best come in, then.”

Caitlyn eyed Mam’s basket. “Were you off on an errand?”

“Aye, but it can wait. ’Tis just some jellies and such fer the Roberts and their new babies. She had twins, she did. I suggested she call them Caitriona and Caitlyn like ye and yer sister, but she’d none o’ it—probably because they were boys.”

Caitlyn laughed. “I daresay that was it.”

Muiren, who’d just arrived carrying a basket of her own, smiled at Mam and bobbed a curtsy. “How do ye do?”

Mam eyed the basket with interest. “What’s that?”

Muiren flipped back the cover. “Yer granddaughter said we couldna come without some sweets fer ye. There’s nut bread and marmalade, scones and fresh-churned butter and—”

“Then why are we waitin’ out here! Open the door and someone take this basket to me breakfast room!” Mam turned and headed back into the house, leaving Caitlyn and Muiren to follow.

Muiren was escorted by the housekeeper to the kitchens, while the very proper butler promised Mam that he’d ensure the delicacies in the basket were brought to the breakfast room with all due haste.

Mam then took Caitlyn by the arm and drew her into the small, cozy, well-appointed room and shut the door behind them. “All right, lass, tell me why ye’ve come to see me in such a dither.”

“I’m not in a dither.”

Mam lifted her brows.

“Well … perhaps a
little
dither.” Caitlyn sighed and followed Mam to a small table before the fireplace. As she took her chair, Caitlyn said, “I’m sorry I haven’t written as often as I should.”

“Och, ye’re like me and no’ have the time to write a letter. The one ye wrote me when yer sister eloped with Lord Hugh was a muddle to decipher.”

“I was upset.”

“I could tell. And ye’re upset now. What’s brought ye to me, lass?”

“I’m in a quandary about Alexander MacLean.”

Mam’s eyes widened. “Alexander MacLean? I thought ye were enjoyin’ yerself at a house party at Balloch Castle?”

“I am, but …” Caitlyn fidgeted with her gloves. “Mam, MacLean is at the house party, too.”

“Ah! Ye didn’t mention that in yer letter.”

“No. I should have, but it didn’t seem that important at first, and then—” Caitlyn searched for the words.
Then it became too important to mention in such a casual way.

“Then what?” Mam said impatiently. “Will ye just blurt it out? I’m an old woman and canna take such suspense!”

Caitlyn had to smile. “You’ll outlive us all, Mam.”

“I hope not. Now tell me what’s got ye so upset.”

“When MacLean and I knew one another in London, we were … I suppose you’d call it flirting.”

“I would, would I?”

“Yes.”

“So ye flirted whilst in London and then met again by accident at Balloch Castle?”

“It was no accidental meeting. MacLean admitted he was responsible for my being there. He and the duchess used to be—” Caitlyn couldn’t get the words past her lips.

Mam nodded. “I’d heard tha’, but it ended months ago. He’s no’ the sort o’ man to linger long wit’ a woman like her. Or any other woman for tha’ matter.”

Caitlyn winced. “You know the duchess?”

“Aye, I do,” Mam said in a glum voice. “Better than she’d like. She once worked in one o’ yer grandpapa’s mills.”

“Worked in a mill? That can’t be the same woman!”

Mam lifted her brows.

“Goodness.” Caitlyn shook her head. “I would never have believed that.”

“Well, ye can, fer ’tis true. She dinna want anyone to know about it, but a few of us are old enou’ to remember it very well.” Mam tapped her fingers on the table before her and said in a thoughtful voice, “So MacLean used his connection with the duchess to get ye to visit. Did he tell ye why?”

“For revenge. He planned on ruining me for what happened with Triona and Lord Hugh.”

“But they’re happy as can be! I jus’ saw them yesterday, in fact.”

“I pointed that out, but he was still angry. Although there was no full-blown scandal, people talked, and since Hugh and Triona had left for Scotland, and I’d been sent back to Wythburn, he was left in London to take the brunt of it.”

“Och, so his pride was hurt.”

“Exactly. When I arrived at the castle and realized what he’d planned, I made a deal with him. We’re to
complete three tasks each, and the first one to fail, loses. If I win, he’s to forget the incident and plan no more revenge,
and
he has to propose to me in front of every member of the house party. I shall refuse him, of course.” At one time, just saying that had made Caitlyn grin. Now, for some reason, she took no satisfaction whatsoever in the thought. In fact, it made her heart ache.