Daring Lords and Ladies

by Emily Murdoch

  “Is something wrong?” Eve asked her father.

  “No, but I wanted you to hear what I have to say, along with your sister.”

  She glanced at Grace, who shrugged.

  “Lady Rushton,” he said, “if you and Eve would kindly sit, please.” They joined Grace on the couch, and he clasped his hands behind his back and looked at his youngest daughter. “Grace, Lord Somerset has offered for your hand in marriage.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “What? But I do not want to marry him.”

  “It is marriage or a convent.”

  “But why?”

  “Did you think you could escape the consequences of your role in kidnapping Lord Rushton?” he asked.

  “Rubbish. There is no harm to my reputation. I need not do either.”

  “It is one or the other,” he said in a voice so cold a chill snaked down Eve’s back.

  Grace defiantly shook her head. “I will not marry him.”

  “You prefer a convent?” he demanded.

  “I will not enter a convent, either.”

  “You will.”

  “You cannot make me.”

  His mouth thinned. “This is my fault. I indulged you. Have you no sense?”

  “He is a viscount. I intend to marry a marquess or a duke.”

  Pain crossed Lord Somerset’s face and Eve’s heart twisted.

  “This is your mother’s doing,” their father said. “She has filled your head with ridiculous notions.”

  “Eve married an earl who will one day be a marquess. If she can do it, so can I.”

  “There will not be a repeat of this mess,” their father snapped.

  “Grace,” Eve quickly said, “you must have known this would happen.” Eve could only wonder that she hadn’t given it further thought herself, but that, she realized, had to do with the dark haired earl she’d married.

  “I did not,” Grace said. “Forgive me, Lord Somerset, I mean no disrespect, but we will not suit. Say what you will, Papa. I will not marry him.”

  “Then I will make arrangement for a convent.”

  She snorted. “To what end?”

  “I cannot say,” he replied. “Perhaps they can teach you what I could not.”

  “Forgive me for interrupting, Lord Tolland,” the marchioness said. “I understand your concern, but perhaps this is just a bit of a shock for your daughter. True, she is as guilty as Rush and Eve for the fix the girls were in, but she is young, and probably didn’t realize the real dangers of their scheme. It might be that she needs a little time to consider Lord Somerset’s offer.”

  “Somerset and I have worked out the particulars of the marriage contract,” their father said.

  “Contract?” Grace exploded.

  “I am speaking of something more delicate,” the marchioness cut in. “Grace needs to better understand the man who petitions for her hand. I gather this offer is quite unexpected. Is that right, my dear?” Lady Rushton looked at her.

  “It is,” she replied, “but I will not marry him in any case.”

  “A lady does not refuse a gentleman without having heard his offer of marriage. You must keep in mind that your father has your best interests at heart, and therefore give Lord Somerset an opportunity to present himself.”

  Grace hesitated, then acquiesced with a stiff nod.

  Lady Rushton patted her hand. “Now then, perhaps you should take a little time for yourself. We shall have tea in a bit. The pink parlor. That is a favorite of yours, is it not?”

  “It is a lovely room, ma’am.”

  “Fine, then. We shall all adjourn there later with some of our guests. We cannot forget this is Erroll and Eve’s wedding party.”

  Eve’s father bowed. “You are most kind, Lady Rushton.”

  “Think nothing of it. I was young once and haven’t forgotten the surprise of an unexpected marriage contract.”

  “Grace,” their father said, “perhaps you will allow Lord Somerset to escort you back to your chambers. I will come along.”

  Grace rose and, ever the gentleman, Lord Somerset offered his arm, but Eve wondered how much he wanted to escort her anywhere—or whether he still wanted to marry her, given her outburst.

  They left, but the marchioness remained seated. She blew out a breath. “Your sister is none too happy.”

  “No.” Eve couldn’t repress a sigh. “She said she knew what she was getting into, but I fear she did not. It is my fault for concocting the ridiculous kidnapping plan.”

  “Lord Somerset seems like a decent man.”

  “I believe he is.”

  “And he obviously cares for her.”

  “So you see that as well,” Eve said.

  “It is difficult to miss. Your sister might be more fortunate than she realizes. It is rare that a lady can marry a man who has genuine affection for her.”

  “So true,” Eve said, and thought her heart would break. “I must admit, I gave no thought to her fate.”

  “It has been a hectic few days for you. How are the notes coming along?”

  “I am nearly finished,” Eve kept her voice level and forced back the memory of the solicitor’s letter and Laura Greenwood’s very personal note. “Everyone is so kind. I am truly touched.”

  “A great many of those who sent their regards live far away, and many cannot afford the trip. They are some of the most interesting people on the island.”

  “I hope to meet them one day.”

  “I am sure you will. You and Rush must visit often.”

  Eve mentally blanched. Did Lady Rushton expect them to leave soon? Had Lord Rushton said something to her? Eve smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I would like that.”

  The marchioness laughed. “I certainly hope so. I fear you will become so busy in London that you will forget about us here.”

  “I never loved London. I would much rather live here.”

  “That is not possible. Rush spends most of his time in Town.”

  “Yes,” Eve agreed. “He loves Society.”

  “I don’t know that I would say he loves Society. It is true, a man in his position cannot help but be involved. However, he will have many other concerns to keep him occupied now.”

  Like Laura Greenwood. “The marquess’ business must keep him very busy,” Eve said.

  “It does. My husband employees many people, and Erroll was groomed to follow in his footsteps.”

  “Oxford, if I recall,” Eve said.

  “Yes. Top of his class.”

  Eve wasn’t surprised. “I suppose it isn’t surprising that he prefers to manage his father’s affairs in England. He did comment that the island was dull.”

  The marchioness tilted her head in thought. “I never noticed that Rush thought Mull to be tedious. Val was to manage affairs here, but I believe the marquess had hoped Rush would oversee his additional holdings in Scotland.”

  “Your husband owns property on the mainland?”

  “Yes. In fact, those properties are far more lucrative than his English properties.”

  Eve’s heart twisted. “Then perhaps his lordship simply prefers life in England.” Or life amongst the ton.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lord Rushton hadn’t joined them in the pink parlor when they’d taken tea. Eve had to admit, she’d been relieved, and when propriety allowed, she excused herself for a walk in the arboretum to think things over. But what was there to think over? Lord Rushton hadn’t changed, hadn’t promised he would change, and Laura Greenwood was proof he wouldn’t. Even here on Mull, during their wedding party, he had sought the privacy of the balcony with another woman.

  Yet, despite all odds, despite knowing his nature, Eve had fallen in love with him. Worse, in the last two days she had harbored the foolish hope that he might change. That had been her mistake, not his. The fact he bedded her as if he was making love to her simply testified to his ability as a lover. Eve left the cover of an elm tree and stepped into the afternoon sun. She entered too quickly the shade of the next
cluster of trees and regretted leaving the warmth of the sunlight.

  Grace had said she would allow Lord Rushton to live his life as he pleased, but Eve simply couldn’t sit back and watch him go from one woman’s bed to another’s, fitting her in when he had a moment or when he wanted an heir. That would break her heart. He’d insisted they marry. He now had to deal with her—on her terms.

  Eve strolled in silence along the grassy terrain, then slowed at seeing her father leaning against a tree up ahead, staring in the direction of the castle. Apparently, after tea, he’d had the same desire for privacy.

  She approached and he turned. “Good evening, Papa,” she said as she neared.

  “How is your walk, Eve?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Very good.”

  “Will you walk back with me?” He winged his arm.

  Eve slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “I would be delighted.” She looked up at him. “We have had no time together and…” A lump formed in her throat.

  He patted her hand as he started forward. “You were always a good girl, Eve.”

  “Even when I ran off with Lord Blane?”

  “Even when you ran off with Lord Blane.”

  “And now?”

  He gave her a soft smile. “You put me out, I admit.” He returned his gaze to the path and Eve’s heart tugged at the tired look in his eyes.

  “Oh, papa, I am sorry.” She stopped and nearly fell into his arms.

  He stroked her hair and let her cry softly. “Come now,” he finally said. “I doubt this is about an apology to me. What is amiss? I don’t believe for an instant Rushton has mistreated you.”

  She drew back. “You think he is a paragon of husbandly duty?”

  “Hardly. He is a man—a newly married man—and those chaps make many mistakes. You must see it for whatever it truly is, whatever the case may be. Do you want to tell me?”

  “It is nothing in particular,” she lied. Certainly nothing she hadn’t expected and feared.

  He nodded and they began walking again.

  They were silent for a long moment and Eve knew he was thinking of his other daughter who, despite being a good girl too, was spoilt to the bone. “Grace will come around,” she said. Though during tea, Grace sat like a stone, barely acknowledging his or Lord Somerset’s existence.

  “She has no choice,” he replied. “I regret that she isn’t more sensible, like you.”

  Eve snorted. “I have not been very sensible lately.”

  “True, but is in your nature to be reasonable, and you did accept the inevitable.”

  Yes, she did. “Grace will, too. Just give her time.”

  “I fear time will not change her,” he said. “She’s willful, even more so than your mother.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Eve said. “She is simply young.”

  He looked at her. “You were not like that at her age.”

  “No,” Eve agreed, “but I recall my grandfather saying you had your wild moments when you were young.”

  “All young men have wild moments. But you and I, even your mother, we’re of a tamer breed than Grace.”

  Eve laughed. “She had to have gotten it from somewhere.”

  “From somewhere,” he repeated in a cold voice that caused her to look sharply at him, but he seemed not to notice and stared straight ahead.

  *****

  Eve stopped short in the doorway of Lord Rushton’s bedchamber. The letter from his attorney lay open on the desk where he sat absorbed in work—the note from his mistress on top. Her heart pounded.

  “Hello, Eve,” he said without turning from his writing.

  “We missed you at tea,” she said stupidly.

  “Forgive me, my dear. I had some business to attend.” He continued writing.

  Did the business he referred to include a reply to his mistress to tell her he couldn’t wait to see her? Eve felt her nerve slip. “I am interrupting,” she said. “I will return later.”

  “No need. What did you want to see me about?” He returned the pen to the blotter, then blew on the paper for an instant and folded it, before picking up another document and scanning its contents.

  “Your mother is planning a trip to Tobermory tomorrow after lunch. She suggested a bit of shopping. I…” She’d started the lie and had to finish it. “I wanted to be certain you did not mind.”

  “Of course not.” He flashed a heart-stopping smile. “The shopkeepers know me. They will extend credit for anything you like.”

  “I don’t plan to make many purchases,” she said. “I am going more for the pleasure of the trip.”

  “Do not hesitate to purchase anything you like.”

  “Thank you. I might make a few purchases for the trip to the mainland your mother is planning next week. Oh, my lord, I didn’t tell you, Lord Somerset offered for her hand.”

  He paused in reading and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I thought he might.”

  “You knew?”

  “I noticed in Belfast that he seemed to care for her,” the earl said. “I believe she cares for him as well.”

  “You think she cares for him?” Eve hadn’t considered that possibility.

  “I have some experience in dealing with women who are interested in a man.”

  Did that mean he had realized her interest in him, perhaps even before she had? But she suddenly knew the answer. “You knew I wouldn’t marry him,” she murmured.

  “Lord Somerset?” He shrugged. “You refused his offer of marriage long before I came along. You made no secret that you didn’t want to marry him.”

  “So when you told me that you would step aside if I preferred him you knew I wouldn’t do it.”

  “You did give me scare when you told me you would rather marry him.”

  “A scare?” she repeated, then said, “Ahh, you feared you would be stuck with Grace.”

  “That was a concern.”

  And there it was. His fervor to secure her hand was what it had been all along: a way to avoid the worse of the evils.

  “What’s this about a trip to the mainland?” he asked. “Next week, did you say?”

  “Yes,” Eve said absently. “Your mother hopes it will give Grace time to reflect on Lord Somerset’s offer before they return to England.”

  “Has her sights set on someone higher up the chain, does she?”

  Eve nodded. “In truth, she will make him a terrible wife. He has no real love for Society. He wants a real wife.”

  “A real wife?” He repeated the words slowly. “Unlike what your husband wants, you mean?”

  “I am not Grace, as you know,” she said.

  “Thank God for small mercies.”

  “You may have erred, my lord.”

  He turned in his swivel chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Indeed, how?”

  “You would have done better with Grace.”

  His gaze remained steady on her face for a long moment. “She would gladly return to England with me, whereas you are making plans that will keep you here through next week. Have you plans beyond that, next month perhaps, or maybe even next year?”

  “You are making plans to resume your business in England.” She nodded toward the lawyer’s letter—and the note from his mistress. “You are returning to life as usual.”

  He didn’t bother to glance at the papers, but said, “I never lied to you, Eve. You knew my life was in England.”

  Eve nodded, but feared if she uttered even a whimper she would burst into tears.

  They stared at one another in silence for a long moment before he turned his chair back to the desk and picked up the document he’d been reading. “When you go shopping tomorrow, buy what you need to furnish the suite here to your taste.”

  Her heart began to pound. “I see.”

  “I have been away too long and you made it clear that London was not to your liking. You have the trip to Scotland with my mother and you said you wanted to meet Jean’s daughter—and lest we forge
t, all the other MacLean relatives who have yet to welcome you into the fold.” He looked up and added, “It seems you’ve found your home, Eve,” then returned his attention to his work.

  *****

  Erroll tightened the cinch on his horse’s saddle, then pulled the stirrup from the saddle and lowered it to the beast’s side. He grasped the reins and led the horse toward the stable door. His father appeared in the doorway. So his mother had informed the marquess Erroll was leaving. He should have simply left her a note. But he knew he was lying to himself. He wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to so cold a parting.

  “You are determined to leave?” his father said when Erroll reached him.

  “You knew I would return to England.” Erroll continued out the door and the marquess fell in step on the moonlit path. Though, if he were honest, he hadn’t planned on leaving tonight—or tomorrow, for that matter.

  “I assumed you would take your wife with you.”

  “She prefers to stay here.” Without me.

  “The harvest isn’t for some time yet. Why go so soon—or so suddenly?”

  So soon? After his conversation with Eve an hour ago, he had wanted to jump into the saddle and ride until he couldn’t think. He should have done just that.

  “Riding at night is not wise,” the marquess said.

  “I know every rock on the road to Tobermory,” Erroll answered. “What is there to keep me here?”

  “Your wife.”

  “I believe a wife is obligated to follow her husband.”

  “Can I expect a grandchild next January?” his father demanded.

  Erroll gave a mirthless laugh. “You have a great deal of faith in my abilities, sir.”

  “I have faith in your inability to stay out of your wife’s bed.”

  His father had a point, and it was going to be hell not having her in his bed. “I consummated the marriage.” Several times over. “As to a grandchild, that is in Fate’s hands.”

  “Fate is for fools.”

  Erroll released a sigh. “I understand duty. You taught me well.”

  “Do you plan to live the rest of your life for duty alone?”

  “What else is there?” A wife, love…children?

  “Children,” his father said, as if reading his mind.