by Paula Quinn
He took another look around the garden and at the people strolling in the early morning. Peacocks—and in his long coat, hose, and heels he fit in perfectly.
He scowled at how low he was willing to go for…her.
He spotted her walking up the path between the orange trees. He’d been waiting for her, hoping to find her here in the gardens. She was looking at her hands, twisting them together at her waist. When she raised her head and saw him, she stopped—as did his heart.
“Oh!” Sina brought her hands up to her chest. “Adam—Lord Hamilton.”
Would he ever get used to looking at her? Her face had been emblazoned on his soul. He remembered every one of her compelling expressions, her large, luminous eyes where all her truths lay hidden. She’d been up all night weeping, from the look of her. He’d seen that same small nose, red and sore from wiping the morning after their wedding.
He watched her lids flutter as she turned her gaze away, and then brought it back.
“I didn’t think I would see you here so early,” she said.
“There is no reason to stay in my bed.”
She pursed her mouth as if she’d just tasted a sour apple. He smiled, aching to kiss her.
“You’re staying at the palace, then,” she deduced, trying to keep the topic from swerving.
“Aye, in one of the guest apartments.”
She shook her head and appeared so downhearted he almost considered leaving England to save her from any more distress. She’d been through much in a short period of time. She’d told him last night that her heart belonged completely to William Standish. He didn’t believe her. Her love for William was different. Thanks to Miss Berkham, he understood that now. It was something born from childhood, a bond no one could break. Adam didn’t want to break it. It went deep. William was her friend, the only love she knew—but not the only love there was—and Adam was asking her to betray him.
She was going to be harder to win than he’d first realized. He loved her more because of her stalwart heart. She wasn’t a fickle lass. She loved deeply. It made him want to be the one she loved most. But he didn’t want to hurt her.
He took a step closer. “Was I the source of yer tears last eve, lass?”
She moved away, her eyes darting around the garden, pausing everywhere except on him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m coming down with something. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Hmm.” He lifted his brow at her, though she still hadn’t looked up. “Is it marrying Standish that makes ye so gloomy, then?”
A spark of fire lit her eyes as she lifted them slowly to his. “No, Adam. ’Tis not that. ’Tis you, in truth.” She drew in a short gasp, as if she were just now remembering to breathe. “You cannot keep appearing in my life and turning everything upside down. Why are you here? Why have you come as Lord Hamilton?”
“I told ye, Sina. I’m goin’ to win the king’s favor, let him get to know me withoot my name gettin’ in the way. I canna have ye withoot his blessin’”—he took a moment to tug on the torturous amount of damned lace around his neck—“so I must get it. But first, I would mend yer heart.”
“I cannot let you,” she told him. Her nose and her eyes grew redder. “I promised William…I cannot…I don’t know what is best for me anymore.”
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but smile at her beautiful teary face. “Ye do know what’s best fer ye, lass,” he argued gently. “Ye want to make yer own choices, same as me, but yer fiercely loyal heart keeps ye here, trapped in propriety.”
“No—”
“Are ye happy here, then?” he put to her sincerely. “Livin’ under the scrutiny of everyone, tryin’ to look like everyone else?”
“As opposed to living in some isolated vale in the mountains?” she countered.
“Aye. With me.”
She faltered—just a bit, but he saw it. For one blissful, perfect moment, she let herself imagine it, let herself go to it. He saw it in her eyes and in the mist that filled them. She could be happy with him.
“Where have you been?” she asked with tears filling her eyes to the brim.
“I couldna rush in, lass. I wanted to come—”
“Miss de Arenburg.” A man’s voice rang out from behind Adam, halting the rest of his words.
Adam controlled his desire to strangle him as he turned to see the Viscount of Nottingham strutting forward in his elegant suit with full skirts pinned at his sides, colored garters, and frilled gloves. Dangling from one of his buttons by a blue ribbon was a cane with an amber head. No doubt this was the height of fashion, since all the men here looked the same. Like peacocks.
The ladies here seemed to like it, judging from the beautiful young woman daintily attached to Nottingham’s arm. They were all too frail and fragile looking to Adam’s way of thinking—like porcelain statues easily shattered.
“Lord Hamilton,” Nottingham greeted, bobbing his scented periwig. “Are we interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Sina answered, snapping open her fan and lowering her misty gaze. “Lord Hamilton was just apologizing for striking Lord Markham at the celebration.”
“No need to apologize, Hamilton.” The viscount waved his hands before his face, sending lace cuffs flying. “He had it coming. ’Twas very brave of you.” He smiled, flashing dimples that made him appear too pretty to be a man. “Imagine him accusing my cousin, Lord Standish, of beating his servant.” He looked at Sina, waiting for her agreement.
She appeared a bit taken back. “I hadn’t heard any accusation. Markham was swearing and making threats.”
“’Tis a heinous accusation to spread about an upstanding gentleman,” Nottingham said. “My family is in your debt for putting an end to his tirade, Hamilton.”
Adam nodded, but what he did to Markham had nothing to do with Standish. If he’d known the accusation at the time, he would have hurled a fist into William as well.
“Have you met my sister, Lady Catherine Newton? I thought you might escort her to dinner this evening.”
Adam heard Sina’s tight intake of breath and flicked his gaze to her. Her lips were puckered and plump, tempting him to pull her close and kiss them. But he knew that look. He’d seen it just before she flung his father’s chess piece at him.
“Miss Newton,” he said quickly. “My apologies, but I’ve already asked Miss de Arenburg if I may escort her.”
“Oh?” Nottingham lifted a golden brow at Sina. “And her reply?”
Adam watched her while she thought about her reply. She darted her gaze to Miss Newton’s large ebony eyes and bit her lip, knowing that if she refused, Nottingham would insist on Adam escorting his sister.
“I consented,” she told him with a tilt to her chin that she turned on Adam.
“My lady,” Nottingham told her. “You are betrothed—to my cousin, in fact. Why is he not escorting you to dinner?”
“Because he has left and will return tomorrow,” she told him.
“Nottingham.” Adam stopped him before he insulted Sina further. “I’m not carrying her off to my bed. I’m simply escorting her to her chair. Same as ye asked me to do fer yer sister.”
The viscount stared at him for a moment, fear and uncertainty shadowing his hazel eyes. “Of course. I didn’t mean to suggest…”
His voice trailed off in Adam’s ears, replaced by Sina catching his gaze while the viscount stared at the grass. She looked stunned and pleased that he’d turned Nottingham’s suspicions into an apology. When he smiled openly at her, she averted her gaze.
“Are you escorting her back to the palace this morn, as well?” the viscount asked more politely, pulling Sina’s gaze from his.
“No,” she answered before Adam could reply.
“Good,” Nottingham said, “then he can bring Catherine back now.”
He handed his sister over without waiting for a response. Miss Newton reached for Adam’s arm with one hand and for Goliath with the other.
When Goliath licked
her fingers instead of biting them off, Adam looked at her and smiled.
“Well, let’s be back now,” Sina said, turning to reach for the viscount. She stumbled and cried out before she fell to her knees.
Adam rushed to her and, crouching beside her, looped her arm around his shoulder.
“Here!” Nottingham reached for her. “Let me help her.”
“Oh, ’tis twisted,” Sina lamented, dangling from Adam’s shoulder. “I think I may be ill!”
She covered her mouth with her hand, and the viscount leaped backward and tossed Adam a panicked look. “You take her back.” He pulled his sister away. “I’ll check on her later.”
Adam nodded and bent to curl his arm around her knees and lifted her in his arms.
“You don’t have to carry me,” she said when they were alone.
He stared down at her face, so close that all he had to do was lean down to press his mouth to hers. “I dinna mind carryin’ ye, lass.” It was all he thought about.
“I feel better,” she insisted. Her cheeks were painted with a natural blush he found enchanting.
“What do ye mean, ye feel better?” he asked, his smile turning into a curious smirk. “Has the pain left ye?”
“Yes.”
“Miraculous.”
She frowned up at him. “Put me down.”
“I dinna trust yer judgment. Ye were swoonin’ a moment ago.”
“I was not swooning,” she defended with a forced chuckle. “I was protecting you from Miss Newton’s company. She’s manipulative and will have herself betrothed to you in a sennight.”
It took every ounce of strength Adam possessed not to grin at her like a fool. She was jealous.
“She seems quite pleasant to me,” he countered. “Even Goliath likes her.”
Sina frowned even harder and aimed it at his dog walking beside him. “I noticed.”
She noticed. She hadn’t twisted her ankle. She’d stopped him from being alone with another woman who liked his dog. He wanted to toss back his head and shout with victory, but he’d likely shatter the statues.
“Adam, everyone is looking. Please, put me down.”
“Twisted ankle!” he called out, giving the onlookers a reason why she was in his arms.
She sighed at him. “You don’t have to carry me.”
“I dinna mind.” Hell, he loved carrying her. She made him feel strong, and bound to duty—and for the first time in his life, he ached to perform it, to do his best at it.
“What do ye make of the accusation toward Standish?” he asked, growing serious.
“I’ve never known him to strike anyone,” she told him.
“Oh, my lady, what happened?” A young handservant appeared in front of them.
“Nothing, Katie, I—”
“Twisted ankle,” Adam informed her.
“’Tis not twisted,” Sina hissed at him.
“Then why would ye say ’twas?”
She didn’t answer and closed her eyes when Katie led him through the doors and up the stairs to her rooms.
“Fetch a physician,” Adam told the handservant when she stepped aside to let him in.
“What am I going to tell a physician?” Sina demanded when they were alone.
He carried her through her sitting room, a small but impressive library, to her bedchamber and set her down, gently, reluctantly, onto her bed. He stared into her eyes. He didn’t want to leave her. Not even for a few hours. But he had to use caution. He couldn’t bring shame to her.
“Tell him ye have found the man who makes ye happy.” He leaned in as she pressed her head to her pillow. She didn’t recoil. “And ye would go to any lengths to protect him from the wiles of a manipulative woman.”
“You’re a pigheaded fool,” she said without a trace of anger.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her, and it was nothing like he’d imagined. It set him free and gave him courage and confidence to do anything. Even resist her for now.
He brushed his lips over her cheek, then her temple, and then he straightened. “I’ll see ye this evenin’, my lady.”
He followed Goliath down the stairs and went in search of the king.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Adam stood outside the doors to the king’s quarters and waited. He’d been waiting over an hour. He’d wait all day if he had to. When he’d asked for an audience, he was denied. The king was resting this morning in preparation for a busy afternoon and did not wish to be disturbed.
Adam figured George had to leave his quarters sometime today. He’d be here to speak with him when he did.
He smiled at the staff as they came and went with trays of fruit and silver flagons of wine. He spoke to no one, save in greeting, and thought about what he would say to Sina’s father.
He wanted to try to spend some time with him. He needed to if he was ever going to gain his trust.
Finally, after another quarter of an hour, the door opened and a servant ushered him inside. “The king wishes a word.”
Adam pushed off the wall he was leaning against, pulled off his hat, and followed her in. The king’s quarters were a lavish display of overindulgence. There were a dozen rooms, many of which were decorated in polished wood and gold and red fabrics.
Adam was led to a small private chamber where George sat waiting for him before a large hearth. He wore a silken robe stitched with gold thread and the finest lace. His gray head was absent of any wig.
“My staff tells me you refuse to leave my door,” he said, lifting a fig to his mouth.
“I was not asked to leave, Yer Majesty.”
George humphed and then looked around. “Where’s your dog?”
“He awaits me in the hall.”
“Bring him,” the king ordered, shooing Adam away. “And then you’ll tell me what makes you stand at my door all morning.”
Adam retrieved Goliath and returned to the king. He sat in a chair almost as big as the chairs in Camlochlin and took the drink the king offered him.
“Now, what is this about?”
“’Tis about Miss de Arenburg, Sire.” Adam stopped and drew in a breath to help him begin. “I’m not one to listen to gossip, but I heard she was recently given in marriage to a MacGregor but you ordered her return.”
George’s scowl wasn’t a good sign. “You use good judgment not listening to gossip, Hamilton. But why does it concern you?”
“I would be interested in courting her.” It wasn’t untrue. “I do not want there to be any complications.” Again, not untrue.
“Well, there are complications,” George told him. “She is betrothed.”
Adam set down his cup on the small table between them. “That can be broken.”
The king chuckled. “There are plenty of other offers for your company. I can arrange—”
“Give them my regrets.”
The king studied him with narrowed eyes and then asked, “Why her? You met her only last night.”
Adam knew this was his chance to speak to her father from his heart. He hoped when George heard him, he would be better willing to accept Adam as a MacGregor.
“She is brave and bold, Sire. I spoke to her earlier and found her to be refreshing and filled with grace. Her beauty drives away every other thought, every consequence.”
“What consequence do you mean?” the king put to him. “The MacGregors?” he asked, taking a guess. “The marriage is being annulled as we speak.”
“What if ’tis not what she wants? Not what he wants and he comes to plead for her return?”
“A MacGregor plead?” the king laughed. “I’ve never heard of it happening. I’ve been digging a bit into their history, and I cannot recall a single story of them pleading for anything.”
Adam struggled to keep his shoulders from straightening with pride. Hearing that the king was digging around into his clan’s history helped keep him focused.
“He will not come,” the king continued. “
He was as happy to be rid of Sina as she was of him. But if he does show his face here, I will have him thrown in Newgate.”
Adam’s heart pounded so hard that it made him feel ill. Protection would no longer come from the throne. If George knew who he was, he would never give Adam a chance to prove him wrong about him and his kin. He couldn’t reveal who he was yet. He was here representing more than himself, and he didn’t want the prejudice of his name interfering.
“Then may I proceed in trying to win her favor?” he asked in a controlled voice. At his feet, Goliath whined, sensing the fire coursing through Adam’s veins.
“You won’t win it from Lord Standish,” her father assured him. “Though I don’t believe he is the right choice for her.”
“Because he left her? Her friend told me,” Adam added to explain how he knew.
The king shook his head and sipped his wine. “Because of what he did during his time away. ’Twould bring her shame if she knew.”
He’d been unfaithful. The son of a—
“I will have a letter sent to your grandfather asking for your details,” the king granted. “Until then—”
“Ye have my gratitude, Sire.”
George smiled at him over the rim of his cup. “You’re an eager lad.”
Adam returned the gesture and shook his head at himself. “As Solomon once said, ‘I have found the one whom my soul loves.’ Why waste any more time?”
“That sounds very serious,” the king remarked.
“’Tis.”
“Very well,” her father said after thinking it over for another moment. “I will allow you to try, and hope you succeed.”
“I’ll do my best,” Adam promised him. And somehow, Adam would win him, as well. He spotted a chess set on a nearby table and smiled. “Do ye play?”
“Do you?” the king challenged with an arched brow.
“Aye,” Adam told him. “Verra well, I might add.”
“We’ll see about that,” George laughed, rising from his chair. “Set up the game while I send for more refreshments.” He went toward the door and then stopped to look at Goliath. “And a meaty bone for you.”
