by Meara Platt
“Aye, I must. As duke, it is my place to lead the festivities.”
She cast him a hesitant smile. “What do those duties involve?”
He groaned. “Silliness mostly. A naked dip in the sea to start things off. Only the men partake. The women stand on shore to cheer and hoot as we remove our clothes and bare our naked arses.”
That got a laugh out of her.
He rested his arms on the table and grinned. “It’s mostly harmless fun. But things can get a little wild at night. I’ll escort ye home before things get...too pagan.”
“You swim naked?” She looked down and stared into her plate again.
“Aye, lass. As duke, I must lead the way. Men swim in England, don’t they?”
She nodded. “But not with women watching.”
“Och, well. Our women are more brazen than ye refined English ladies.” He grinned, but soon sobered. “Jenny, I should have asked ye sooner. Is there something ye’d like me to bring ye back from Edinburgh? They have nice woolens and it gets cold here by early autumn.”
“No, Lyon. I have everything I need right here.”
“Well then, I’ll be off shortly after sunrise. If ye think of anything ye or Johnny might need, just slip a list under my door.”
“I will.” She nodded. “If I think of anything. Safe travels, Lyon.”
He thought she sounded relieved.
Was it possible she felt a similar attraction?
Another thought suddenly struck him, one he hadn’t given much attention to ever since seeing the Lyon birthmark on Johnny’s buttocks. Johnny was a Lyon. He was certain of it. But who was Jenny? She appeared too innocent to be a wife.
So who was this beautiful selkie from Oxford with exquisite green eyes?
Had he imagined the sexual tension between them? What if she was relieved by his departure because she had been lying to him? His absence would ease the pressure of her carrying on the pretense of being John’s wife.
Bah! It was only wishful thinking on his part.
Her every action showed her to be a loving mother to the bairn. And the bairn had to be a true Lyon of Mar. The only thing that did not fit was the matter of her eye color. Also, she wasn’t John’s type. She was too quiet. Too elegant. However, he was quick to dismiss the second reason. As he’d thought earlier, John must have matured and chosen wisely.
If he wished to be honest about it...no, the last thing he wanted to do was face the truth. But he was going away tomorrow and needed to know the sort of woman he was about to give free rein over his castle and servants.
He drank the last of his wine and set the glass back on the table. “Jenny, something has been puzzling me.”
She gazed at him in confusion. “About me?”
“Aye, lass.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table once again and resting his chin upon his clasped hands. “Why are your eyes green?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Your eyes. They’re green.”
“I know.” At first she thought he was jesting. Then she thought he was asking her for a scientific explanation. He could see the bewilderment in her changing expressions. “My hair is a mix of gold and red. Are you going to ask me about my hair color as well? Or why I’m not as tall as a Viking?”
“No, lass. The question came out badly. It was something John wrote in his letter.”
She set down her spoon with a clatter. “What did he say?”
“I’ll show ye the letter after supper. Go on and finish. Ye’ve hardly touched yer meal.”
She shook her head and laughed with unmasked sarcasm. “And you think I can eat now? What are you accusing me of, Your Grace? You’re the one who insists on honesty, so why don’t you start by being honest with me?”
He deserved the set down.
He rose and held out his arm to her, quietly cursing himself for tossing out the question. But he couldn’t disappear for two weeks and not know who she was and what her purpose was in coming here. “Come with me into my study. Ye deserve to know the truth. We should have discussed this yesterday. It is I who wished to avoid the conversation.”
He led her to one of the soft leather chairs in front of his desk and then went behind his desk to retrieve John’s letter from one of the locked drawers. “Read it, Jenny.” He held what he’d privately taken to calling ‘the foul missive’ out to her.
Their fingers grazed as she took it from him.
Aye, he needed to get away from the lass with all due haste.
Her touch still shot bolts of lightning through him.
She took her time reading it, no doubt going over it several times before she was ready to respond to him. Her hands shook as she leaned forward to set the parchment on his desk. She looked down at her toes and said nothing.
He knelt beside her. “Jenny, now do ye understand why I asked the question?”
She nodded. “He said I had blue eyes.”
“But ye don’t, lass. How can he not know the color of his wife’s eyes?”
She pursed her lips, then nibbled lightly on her lower lip. “I can’t answer that. This letter...he treats his marriage as a jest.”
“His marriage?” Cheyne’s eyebrow shot up. “It’s yours, too. Isn’t it?”
“He loves his son. That’s all I can say. That’s all I wish to say.” He could not tell whether her expression was one of fear that she’d been discovered as a fraud, or of deep, abiding hurt that she was truly married to John and he’d so casually talked about their bedding. The entire tone of John’s letter reeked of immaturity.
Yes, John had said he loved her.
But Jenny obviously took little solace in the declaration. After all, he’d run off, abandoning her and little Johnny despite suspecting she was once more with child.
She tried to rise, no doubt to run up to her bedchamber in tears, but Cheyne needed to finish this conversation with her. “We’re not done,” he said with ducal authority, not intending to sound quite so severe.
She was already frightened. He wanted her to trust him, not fear him. To his relief, the lass glared back at him.
He was glad she had the spine to stand up to him.
“Yes, we are done. You wanted the truth and here you have it. I admit it. Your suspicions are correct. I am nothing but a fraud. I am nothing to your brother. I don’t think he even likes me. It is obvious in this letter. But Johnny is his son and he truly loves the boy, even if he is an absent father.” She tried to rise again, and this time he allowed her and got up along with her. “I’ll pack my things and go quietly. I don’t want a scene. But I want you to know that you have just ripped my heart to shreds.”
“Jenny, that was never–”
“That was never your intention? Is this what you were going to say? Well, save your breath. Your good intentions are meaningless. You are cold, callous, and obviously care nothing for the boy’s feelings if you can toss me out without so much as a scintilla of remorse. But you are the almighty duke and I am merely a professor’s daughter. I have no power to prevail on you to do what’s right. There is no higher authority than you.”
She wiped at the tears now falling onto her cheeks, missing most of them for they were now tumbling in a stream. “You must promise me you’ll take good care of little Johnny. I won’t leave him with you unless I have your sacred oath that you’ll care for your nephew and protect him with all your heart and soul. If any harm comes to him while under your care, I vow I shall come back and maim you.”
“Ye think I want ye to leave?”
She glanced at the letter unfurled atop his desk and then turned to meet his gaze. “Isn’t this what our discussion has been about? You proving I came to you under false pretenses?”
He gripped her shoulders, felt the bolt of lightning at their touch, but he’d braced himself for the impact since he knew what to expect. Still, it tore through him. “Jenny, my brother is an arse. Surely ye knew it when ye married him.”
She inhaled lightly. “Wait,
you still think...I didn’t ma–”
“And then to dump ye and his son on my doorstep without making proper arrangements to get ye up here all the way from Oxford. And him leaving ye without resources even while believing ye might be carrying a second bairn. It is inexcusable.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed and her mouth agape.
He wanted to kiss her mouth.
But that merely riled him further. “He made a jest of the whole thing. To tell me that ye came to his bed innocent. Forgive my bluntness. But I am outraged that my own blood kin would write down such thoughts. What if I hadn’t been here when ye arrived on my doorstep? What if Brogan had turned ye away?” He began to pace in front of her, angry with his brother and angrier with himself for putting the lass through this humiliating questioning. “No, Jenny. This is your and Johnny’s home. Ye’re not to leave here.”
“But–”
“It would be different if ye had come to me spouting lies. Ye know I cannot abide liars. But keeping whatever is between ye and John to yerself is not at all the same thing. I have no right to pry into relations between a husband and wife. Even if the two of ye never properly exchanged vows...Lord, I wouldn’t put it past my brother to do such a thing. Whether he married ye or not, ye bore his child, so ye are kin to us. I’ll hold a shotgun to his head if he refuses to do what’s right when he arrives for ye at Christmastide.”
“Stop, please!”
“No, lass. I know ye’re humiliated. But it must be discussed. Refusing to talk to me about yer circumstances is no lie. Ye are entitled to your privacy. Och, Jenny, what I am trying to tell ye and doing a terrible job of it...ye’re to stay. I’ll no’ toss ye out. It was never my intention to separate ye from yer son.”
He ran a hand through his hair in consternation, for this conversation was not going the way he intended. He’d meant to confront her, and here he was now making excuses for her. But he’d seen heartbreak in her expression and had heard the utter desolation in her trembling voice. She loved the boy.
She was ready to sacrifice everything to keep him safe.
What had he been thinking?
“This is yer home. Ye aren’t a prisoner here. If ye have no wish to remain, then let me know where ye’d like to settle and I’ll find ye a proper house, and proper servants to care for ye and the lad. And a proper allowance so that ye’ll never lack for anything.”
The more he spoke, the greater the pain he saw in her eyes.
She covered her face with her hands as though ashamed, and silently began to cry.
Och, had he spoken as though she was a beggar coming to him with her hand out? “Jenny, why the tears? Ye are part of the family now. Being the lad’s mother makes ye so, whether or not my brother made it...official. I don’t care what nonsense he wrote in his letter. This is what we do for each other. Ye would do the same for me, wouldn’t ye?”
She nodded.
Her hands still covered her face and her quiet sobs were like daggers piercing his heart.
Dinna take her in your arms, ye fool.
But he could not in good conscience leave her standing there in tears. The next thing he knew, she was in his arms, her head now resting on his chest and her hands clinging to his shirt.
Dinna look down at her.
He would kiss her beautiful mouth if she raised her gaze to his. He’d kiss her and not stop kissing her until one of them gathered their wits and put a stop to it.
It would not have been him.
He could kiss this lass into forever.
It would have been so easy to convince himself to take her, to twist his mind and tell himself he was merely avenging what his brother had done to him with Davina. A seduction for a seduction. An eye for an eye.
But to use Jenny this way was an abomination to him.
He could never do it.
All the more because he could not hide what he felt for the lass. No matter how far away he ran. No matter how long he stayed away. This feeling she stirred in him would remain. He was falling in love with Jenny.
Lord, help him.
He was falling in love with his brother’s wife.
How long before she guessed it?
Chapter Six
Jenny was walking back to Castle Lyon from her earlier excursion into Stonehaven when she noticed a stir at the castle. Two weeks had passed since Lyon’s departure for Edinburgh and she had heard nary a word from him in all that time. Not that he owed her any, but she realized the activity now going on within the castle walls meant Lyon had returned.
There could be no other explanation for the frantic bustling of his grooms, footmen, and housemaids.
Her heart beat a little faster. The talk they’d had before he left still preyed on her mind. She had resolved to tell him the truth. After a fortnight of thinking about it, she knew it was time to confess all and hope he’d show her mercy. All she wanted to do was watch over Johnny until her best friend, little Johnny’s real mother, returned.
It was a risk, she knew.
How would he respond when she told him? My name is Jenny, but I’m not the Jenny you believe I am. I’m the Jenny who lied to you.
She wouldn’t start this way, of course. First, she’d start with a general discussion of what it meant to give someone your sacred vow to protect their child. Surely he would understand the importance of keeping one’s promise. Would Lyon ever break such an oath?
She couldn’t imagine him doing so.
She hurried up the hill toward the imposing front gate. It was one of those old, massive, iron battle gates, a remnant of the medieval era when enemies had laid siege to Castle Lyon. When the gate dropped down, it would seal off all entry to the castle. She knew there had also been a second gate within an impenetrable inner wall to protect the keep in the unlikely event the main outer wall and its thick stone had been breeched.
There had also been a narrow bridge leading to the castle and a moat around it filled with water, but it had long since been filled in and the bridge no longer existed. A well maintained road now led to the stately castle.
The housekeeper bustled past her as she walked in the door. “Mrs. MacNaught, has His Grace returned?”
“Och,” she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “They’ve all returned. Ye’d think they’d bother to send word, but nay. They just rode in without warning and clomped up to their rooms in their thick boots, treading mud across my clean floors. I’ll box their ears if they do it again. Aye, even the duke will feel my wrath.”
“I’m sure he’ll apologize to you as soon as he returns downstairs.”
“Och, and what of their bedchambers? They have no’ been properly aired and dusted. And I’m sure the three of them are now expecting a feast.”
Jenny frowned. She hadn’t counted on company. “Who else rode in with him?”
“Well, they’ll have cold mutton and left over leek soup, is what they’ll have. Do they think Mrs. MacAlpin is a sorceress, able to conjure up a ten course meal within the hour?”
“How many guests returned with him?” What was she to do?
The answer was simple. Keep silent, of course. Put off telling him the truth. She couldn’t risk being tossed out, not while all these strangers were around Johnny.
She would confess all to Lyon as soon as his company left.
“What, lass?” Mrs. MacNaught shook her head and made a clucking sound, much like a mother hen admonishing her chicks. “Och, no. He’s returned with his brothers, Matthew and Lucas, not ten minutes ago. Thundered in they did, tromping and stomping up the stairs in their muddy boots,” she repeated, obviously peeved they had not thought to take them off before entering the castle and trudging across her pristine floors.
“Och, lass. Before I forget, His Grace wishes to see ye in his study in one hour. He’d like ye to bring little Johnny with ye if he’s awake. But ye’re not to worry about waking the lad if he’s still napping. His uncles can wait until he wakes up to see him.”
“Thank y
ou, Mrs. MacNaught.” She glanced down at her gown, a simple day gown of white dimity. She’d tossed a pale green pelisse over it for her jaunt into town. She hadn’t bothered to do up her hair, merely tied it back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck. It was likely a mass of tangles by now, for the wind was strong off the water today.
She hurried up the stairs and had just started down the hall when Lyon’s door burst open and two young men who bore a resemblance to him strode out laughing. But the laughter caught in their throats when they spotted her gaping at them. “Cheyne, what’s this?”
“What are ye talking about?” He strode out, obviously not expecting to see her, for his shirt was undone and his tanned chest with its light dusting of dark hair was on full display.
Jenny’s knees almost buckled.
The man was stunning.
Broad, muscled shoulders. Sleek torso.
He frowned at the other two men who could be none other than his brothers. “Why didn’t ye tell me ye were referring to Jenny and not some misplaced object in the hall? Lass, forgive me. I wouldn’t have–”
“I know.” She cast him a hesitant smile. “How was your journey?” She glanced at all three. “Well, I suppose we can chat once you’ve washed up and made yourselves presentable. I’m delighted to meet you.” She turned back to Lyon, trying to ignore his magnificent body, but it was impossible to do. “I went into town while Johnny was napping. It’s a beautiful day and a lovely walk. I would have returned sooner, or not gone out at all had I known you were coming home today.”
“You may have guessed by now these grinning banshees are my brothers.” He nodded toward the taller one with dark brown hair, introducing him as Lucas. The slightly shorter one with lighter brown hair, almost golden when in sunlight, he introduced as Matthew.
“A pleasure to meet you both,” she said, having to tilt her head up to meet their gazes. All three were big men and built sturdily. Brawny lads, she supposed the Scots would call them.
All three were also very handsome, but Lyon was easily the handsomest. He simply exuded...she didn’t know what to call this way he had of making her bones melt. Everything about him stirred her senses. It did not matter that he had yet to wash up or that he still carried the scent of horses, leather, and raw Scottish wind.
