Two hours crawled by. Even though Silver’s fingers cramped and her back ached like the devil, she remained beside her aunt, needle in hand. But this was sheer torture! Nothing was worse than embroidery. Walking five miles in the snow barefoot was preferable.
Movement to her left caught her eye. Silver plucked off her spectacles and glanced out the windows. A horse disappeared around the corner, and she rose to her feet, stretching her arms high into the air. “Aunt, I believe my brothers have returned. I’ll finish this later.” She rushed toward the door, eager to welcome them home. Well, eager to do anything but sew another rotten stitch.
Silver threw the back door open and gasped. “Connor?”
“Och, tha’ canna be my Silver I’m seein’?”
She ran into his arms. “I didn’t expect to see you. Duncan said you wouldn’t be home for another couple of months.”
“Weel, tha’ changed.” He hugged her tight then pulled back. “I dinna expect tae see you, either, lass.” His eyes held a question. He wanted to know why she had come.
The betrothal. She had come to tell her brothers about her upcoming marriage. To Victor Merrick. Her stomach flopped over. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. And she knew she would not tell her brothers. But how could she not tell them? She knew perfectly well the dangers if she said nothing until after the wedding. Her brothers might show up in England out for blood. Probably march to her door and demand to know why she didn’t inform them of an engagement while she had been in Scotland. She bit her lip, uncertain what to do.
Perhaps she could send them a note about the engagement after she left here. Her brothers didn’t need to know exactly when she got engaged, did they? Surely, allowing them to think it happened when she got back to England wouldn’t bring about any harm, would it? Yes, that might be the best way to handle this—this problem.
Instead of answering the question in Connor’s eyes, she looped her arm through his and led them into the house. “So, tell me of my good fortune and why you have come home early.”
Connor shut the door. “It was the most fantastic thing, Silver. We saved the Duke of Kenbrook’s daughter from kidnappers.”
“You were involved in Lady Megan’s rescue?”
Silver turned at the sound of Daniel’s voice and swallowed hard. He didn’t seem to notice her. He focused his attention squarely on her brother.
“Who are ye?” Connor asked, as his brows snapped together and his lips pulled down.
Daniel straightened with a wince, pressing a hand to his ribs. “I am Daniel Claiborne, the Duke of Huntington. Lady Megan and I…” He broke off his words and shook his head. “I know the lady well. Tell me, what happened?”
Silver bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. She might as well have been a hall tree. Daniel ignored her, almost as if she were completely invisible, while he talked with her brother. She could parade around naked in front of him, and he still would not notice her. For a brief instance, last night’s memories flashed in her mind. Heat crept up her neck to her face, and she placed her hand against the wall for support. Her feelings for the duke suffocated her. She loved him desperately, but he didn’t love her, would never love her. He had a goddess like Lady Megan to cherish. A duke’s daughter, no less. The perfect match.
The men disappeared into the study and closed the door. Silver gripped the sides of her ugly gray dress and moved away. She would never, ever measure up. Her legs trembled as she shuffled into the drawing room, her body cold and numb with despair. Earlier, she had harbored a smidgen of hope in a tiny corner of her heart—hope that Daniel would somehow rescue her from her vile aunt and uncle and keep her from having to marry Victor Merrick.
But that hope had disappeared. Doused like a bucket of cold water over a candle flame.
Looking across the room, Silver found her mother’s portrait smiling down at her from above the mantle. Wavy red hair, deep blue eyes. She made her way forward, halting a foot away, wishing her mother could be here to tell her what to do, how to make the scorching pain in her heart stop. Her throat closed up and her eyes stung. Why did everyone she love either leave her or send her away? Why?
Behind her, the door creaked open. Silver whirled around and found Daniel standing there with his eyes on her. Every muscle in her body stiffened.
He stepped into the room and closed the door.
“W-What are you doing?” she asked, burying her trembling hands in her pockets.
He wore a blank expression, dull eyes, chiseled lips, and looked right through her as he spoke. “I made a grievous error last night. For that, I apologize. The blow to my head must have impaired my judgment. I never meant for the incident to happen. And no matter how much I wish otherwise, I cannot undo it. I can, however, offer you something. The chest of gold is yours.”
Silver could not utter a single word. This wasn’t Daniel speaking, this was the Duke of Huntington. She stood rigid, unable to believe her ears. Did he think her a woman of easy virtue who could be bought off? Dear God, how could he think that of her? “Both you and your gold can go to the devil,” she choked out and fled the room through the side door.
She marched to the gazebo with her fists balled at her sides. She sat in a numbed silence, unable to focus her jumbled thoughts on any one thing.
“There you are, child. I’ve been looking for you,” Prudence said. “I forgot to mention earlier that we must begin packing if we are to leave on time.”
Silver blinked, then drew her brows together. “Leave?”
Prudence pursed her lips. “Have you forgotten? Our ship will depart soon, and we had better be on it.” She paused and crossed her arms. “Or have you decided to remain here with your brothers?”
Oh, how she wished for that! But an image of five fresh graves came to her mind, dashing her wish to pieces. Her uncle had made it clear her brothers would be killed if they interfered. He was evil enough to do it. He could also send Prudence away.
Silver shook her head. “You know I cannot remain here. Uncle Edward would never allow it. He is determined to see me marry Victor Merrick.” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Her aunt’s expression softened. “Sadly, I agree. God knows I’ve tried to change his mind, but Edward is holding firm to his decision. It would kill him to have to return the gold Mr. Merrick settled on you. Have you told your brothers?”
“I-I don’t think that would be a good idea. I think I should wait and send them a note after we leave,” she choked out.
Prudence took the seat beside her. “Do you think that wise, child?”
“If I tell my brothers in person, I am convinced they will know how unhappy I am about this arrangement.” She pressed a sweaty palm to her stomach. “They may try to interfere. Uncle Edward would—” she stopped and took a deep breath. “No, I had better wait and write them after we return to England. They don’t have to know when the engagement began.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I ever thought I could tell them face-to-face.”
“Perhaps you are right.” Prudence patted her arm.
She shivered and squeezed her hands together in her lap. “When do we leave?”
“Just after your brothers arrive tomorrow morning.”
Those words made Silver flinch. “How are we getting back to the dock?” she asked, groping for a diversion from thoughts of her brothers’ executions and her upcoming wedding.
“Leave that to me, child.”
Daniel paced the bedroom. The pain in Silver’s eyes haunted him and made him crazed with remorse. He had been too harsh with her. The distasteful offer of gold nettled his conscience. Actually, it seared his soul with shame. She wasn’t some harlot, damn it. Didn’t honor flow in his blood, passed down from generations of Huntingtons? He shook his head. He had no honor. Not after what he had done to Silver. He frowned and faced the window, trying to sort his troubled thoughts.
Crossing his arms, he stared out at the field beyond the stables. Deep green grass
blanketed the ground with little white and yellow flowers waving to and fro in the wind. It quite reminded him of the lake near his home. He could envision Silver sitting in the midst of the flowers at Huntington, plucking a white one to put in her hair.
His chest went tight and he closed his eyes. What in the hell was he going to do? How would he—
A knock sounded at the door.
“Go away,” Daniel said without turning.
The door swung open and heavy footsteps clapped against the wood floor. “I have a request,” Garrett said behind him.
Daniel dropped his chin down to his chest and sighed. He had to find a way to—
“I need the carriage to take—”
“Fine,” Daniel said with a wave of his hand. If he could—
“But I am taking…”
Daniel spun around and scowled, causing Garrett to halt his words. “Use the ruddy carriage and take as long as you like. Is there anything else?”
Garrett straightened his shoulders, the surprise melting from his face. “No, I don’t suppose there is.”
Daniel turned back to the window, the blackness of his mood rising to unbearable limits. He rested a palm against the wall, his gaze straying to the flower-dotted field. He swore soundly, then spun around and began to pace.
After ten minutes with still no answers, he stomped from the room, praying a long ride and some port would ease a bit of his turmoil.
Damn, he’d need a lot of port.
Chapter Eight
“Ye best be up, Duke.”
Daniel groaned as Mrs. Burns’ screechy voice brought him awake, making him painfully aware of every drop of port he’d consumed yesterday. Usually, a brisk ride helped to sort his troubled thoughts, but he’d needed additional aid. Unfortunately, that extra assistance produced a pounding head, a rolling stomach, and a bone-dry mouth.
“Drink this an’ ye’ll be feelin’ up tae scratch in a trice. Hurry now, your bath water be gettin’ cold.”
Daniel pried open his eyes. The old scarecrow stood over him, offering a large glass of something that looked like pea soup. “What in the devil is that?” he asked with a scratchy throat, easing up against the pillows with a wince.
“Summat tae cure your bottle-ache.” She pressed the glass into his hands. “Now drink it up.”
A foul, rotten egg stench assailed him, making his stomach churn dangerously. He held the glass away. “I am not drinking that.”
She crossed her arms and scowled even deeper than usual. “Can ye ride in your condition?”
Daniel squinted up to her as the pounding in his head intensified. “What the devil does that have to do—?”
“Can ye ride, feelin’ as ye dae, Duke?”
“No,” he answered, his temper rising. The God-awful smell rising from whatever witch brew she’d concocted also did nothing to improve his mood.
“Then ye better drink up.” She nodded to the glass in his hand. “While ye slept all the day away from picklin’ yer liver, Silver left.”
“What?” He jerked up from the pillows, spilling several drops of the foul mixture onto his hand.
“Ye heard me. Now drink up before ye make a bigger mess.”
Daniel shook his head and grimaced as pain tore through his temples. “What do you mean Silver left?”
Mrs. Burns expelled a gusty sigh, clearly losing patience. “Went back tae England, that’s what I mean, Duke.”
“Went back to England? But how…?” His words trailed off as he recalled the conversation he’d had with Garrett yesterday about borrowing the carriage. Damn! That must have been what his friend had tried to tell him. Remorse for so many things gone wrong burned low in his belly. “I assume Garrett escorted Silver and her aunt to the dock?”
“Aye.”
Daniel glanced back at the glass in his hand, bringing it a bit closer. The smell hit him and he made a face. “What’s in this?”
“Ye really dinna want tae know,” she replied, then scurried from the room, grumbling something about men being stubborn asses.
As Daniel stepped down the stairs half an hour later, he had to admit the foul-tasting concoction had actually worked. Both his headache and stomach gripes were gone. It tasted worse than it smelled, but pinching his nose with a thumb and forefinger had helped get the ghastly stuff down.
He had just taken a step toward the rear of the house when a deep voice called to him from the drawing room. “A word, Huntington, if ye please.”
Daniel turned, surprised to find the eldest MacLaren standing there. “Duncan, I am glad you’re here. I’d like to borrow a horse.”
The man’s eyes dipped down to Daniel’s valise and back. “Are ye goin’ after Silver?”
That stopped Daniel short. He hadn’t expected the question, but lying would gain him nothing. He just didn’t know how Silver’s brother would react to his answer. Squaring his shoulders, he nodded. “I am.”
The large Scot crossed his arms, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why?”
Daniel really had no time for this. He needed to intercept Silver before she boarded the ship back to England. He shifted from one foot to the other. “I just need to sort some things out with your sister.”
Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “What things?”
As Daniel groped for an answer, the man stepped closer. “Would this have anything tae dae wi’ Fiona?”
“Fiona?” Daniel shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That was the reason for ye comin’ here tae this house, isna tha’ true?”
“Yes, but—”
“Silver wanted me tae tell ye tha’ Fiona is yours. And tae keep your gold.”
Daniel sucked in a breath at the unexpected statement. “I don’t understand.”
Duncan scowled. “Tha’ makes two o’ us.” He leaned closer. “Summat be wrong wi’ Silver and I kin ye can tell me what it is.”
Wondering just how much to say, Daniel glanced at the painting over the mantle across the room. Silver’s mother could have been her twin, and she looked so happy in the portrait. Something tugged at his heart. He wanted to see Silver smile with the same light dancing in her eyes, the same wide smile just holding back laughter, the same rosy blush to her cheeks. “I would like to see your sister happy,” he said softly, facing the large Scot once again.
Duncan eyed him for several long seconds. Then, as if coming to some sort of decision, he slid his arms down his sides and gave a curt nod. “Ye best be off then.”
“Good bye, Duncan. I thank you and your brothers for seeing to my recovery.” Daniel shook the man’s hand and turned toward the door. Now that he had a horse, a very fast horse, he could catch up to Silver easily.
“One other thing, Huntington.”
Daniel stopped at the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “What is that?”
“Connor went with them.”
“What has that got to do with—”
“Connor is verra protective o’ the lass. Ye might find trouble there, aye. I suggest ye go straight up the border.”
Daniel turned fully around. “Up the border? But the raiders. That was the whole reason we sailed in the first place.”
Duncan nodded, a smile curving his lips. “Aye, there be raiders. But Fiona can outrun them. And I can promise ye’d fair better wi’ them than wi’ Connor.”
****
Daniel slowed his horse as he neared the outskirts of Kelmscott. He’d traveled first to his estate for a fresh horse, knowing Fiona needed the rest, and had thanked God his grandmother had yet to return from London. Although the journey to his estate took him out of the way, he should meet Silver just as she arrived home. If not, he would find an inn and wait for her. He had a simple plan—convince her to marry him. That would not be easy, not after his horrible behavior in Scotland. But he had made up his mind. They would marry, and he would not give her the opportunity to deny him.
He halted near a church made of light brown sandstone and slid fro
m his saddle. A young lady passing by glanced up. Startled, her sky-blue eyes went wide. “Pardon, my lady,” he said, dipping his head for a nod, “could you inform me where I may find Pennington Manor?”
Her surprise forgotten, she raked her eyes over his body. Daniel suppressed a sigh, recognizing the appreciation and unveiled interest. Even though accustomed to such reactions from ladies of the ton, he detested them. “Pennington Manor, my lady, can you tell me the location?”
She nodded, her blonde corkscrew curls bobbing against her forehead. Then she stilled, her lips tightened, and her eyes turned frosty. “You must be Victor’s friend, here for the wedding. Talk some sense into him before it’s too late. Silver MacLaren may be my cousin, but I’m sorry to say she is completely unsuitable for such a fine gentleman. They should not be allowed to marry.”
Daniel snapped to attention, horrified with the girl’s announcement. He could scarcely breathe. Silver was to marry another?
“Why, just last year,” the lady continued, “Silver tried getting her meat hooks into my Robin. Fortunately, he saw through her disgusting ploy and married me instead. And now, poor Victor will fall prey to her trap in just ten days.” Her full lips pulled down as determination glinted in her eyes. “But there is still time to save him. As his friend, you can convince Victor to halt the ceremony. After all, he doesn’t know what a deceitful upstart Silver really is. You see, she ran off to Scotland just after their betrothal to keep him blind of her true nature.”
When the chit finally fell silent, a swirl of dark emotions swept through Daniel. Despair, torment, betrayal, and rage. And only his shock kept him from losing his calm. Silver had been betrothed when they met, and she hadn’t uttered one word about that fact. Not one. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, madam, but I do not know a man by that name,” he said when he could trust himself to speak evenly.
Duchess Beware (Secrets & Scandals Book 2) Page 8
