“Where is the habit?” Clarissa asked breathlessly, as she helped Fiona unbutton her dress. There was straw sticking to every part of her underclothing. Even in the strings of her corset. It must have been terribly uncomfortable.
Fiona raced to the wardrobe and pulled out an emerald green habit, crossing back to Clarissa. Clarissa stuck her arm up though it and hoisted it over Fiona’s head, allowing the fabric to fall into place. Twisting her cousin around, she began doing up the buttons in the back. “Are you…are you ruined?” It was none of her business but she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.
“Nae,” Fiona answered softly. “Swear you won’t tell?”
“Of course,” Clarissa said. “I know what I said earlier about telling your father but the truth is, you can tell me anything.”
Fiona nodded. “You can tell me anything too.” She took a breath. “I wasn’t ruined, in the strictest sense of the word, but we did things…” Fiona’s face flushed bright red.
“I understand.” Clarissa gave her hand a squeeze. “I was ruined in London for having nothing other than bad judgment. And here in Scotland, I’ve done things that would actually ruin me, but we’ll keep each other’s secrets.”
Fiona sighed. “Ewan wants to marry you.”
Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “I’m English, remember?” But Fiona’s words filled her with warmth and hope. Somehow, today when she’d thought she’d really lost him to Fiona, a decision had been made. She couldn’t let him go. She needed to at least consider this.
“Aye, and Scot too. He sees that now, I think.” Fiona looked away, her face clouding. “But I don’t know how Colin feels about me. I thought he hated me.”
“Isn’t it so strange?” Clarissa asked. “I was sure I hated Ewan. Right up to the point he kissed me and then I stopped thinking all together.” She finished the last button. Then pulling several pieces of straw out of Fiona’s hair. “You’re ready to go.”
Fiona nodded. “Meet me in the entry in five minutes. Don’t take too long. Da is going to be furious.”
“I won’t.” Clarissa gave her a quick hug. “Good luck.”
“I’ll be needin’ it.” Fiona swept out of the room.
Clarissa waited for no more than a minute and then raced back toward the barn to find Ewan. They’d come in together as though they hadn’t seen Fiona at all.
Racing down the path to the barn from the kitchen door, Ewan met her, sweeping her up into his arms. She let him, pressing her body close to his as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Were you seen?” he mumbled, as he pulled her behind an outbuilding.
“No,” she whispered as she pressed closer. “I told Fiona I’d meet her in just a few minutes. I think she’s worried how Uncle Haggis will react.”
He nodded, kissing her temple. “I just want to hold ye for a moment, lass, and then we’ll go in.” There was just a touch of sadness to his voice.
“What’s wrong?” she asked pulling back.
But he shook his head holding her closer. “Nothing yet.”
“But you’re afraid something will be.”
His hand traveled into her hair and his lips whispered over her ear. “If Haggis sends me away, all you need do is send me a letter and I’ll come for ye.”
She gasped. Her uncle wouldn’t really send him away, would he?
Chapter 11
But Ewan had the right of it. Before they’d even reached the house, they could hear Haggis’ booming voice yelling at full volume. Apparently, he was already back from searching the pasture.
And as they moved inside, Clarissa could clearly see Haggis standing, larger than life, in the entry of the castle. Fiona seemed to be doing her best to keep her shoulders straight but her face was crumpling under her father’s words. “You’re marryin’ now, young lady. I’ve had enough of your nonsense. It’s time for some other man to try his hand at taming ye, because I’m done.”
It became clear that Fiona had mentioned Ewan because as soon as he and Clarissa stepped through the door, Haggis pointed his finger at Ewan and said, “You!”
Ewan stood straighter. “Me,” he rumbled back. His gaze narrowing.
“I want to see both of ye in my study now.” Haggis turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, expecting Fiona and Ewan to follow.
Fiona raced over. “I only told ‘im that I’d decided not to marry ye. But he kept asking why in a louder and louder voice. I lost my temper and said that you were only pretendin’ because of what I’d said to Colin. That’s when the real yellin’ started. I’m so sorry, Ewan. I’ve been nothing but trouble to ye.”
Ewan waved his hand. “I’ve fought entire armies. I’m sure I can handle one angry father. But let’s get it over with, shall we?”
“Thank you, Ewan,” Fiona breathed. “You’re a gentleman and an honorable man and I’m glad to ken ye.”
With a nod, he turned to her. “Wait for me in the library.” Then he placed a quick kiss on her forehead. He started up the stairs.
Fiona turned to her and gave her hand a squeeze. “I ken ye’ve been hurt. But he’s a fine man, you’ll never find one finer. Don’t let Davenport ruin your chance at happiness.” Then Fiona dashed up the stairs behind Ewan.
Clarissa watched them go, her heart thudding in her chest. Aunt Judith, Agnes, Fiona—they all thought Ewan was the kind of man she should be with. Mayhap, they were correct. She needed more time, and time was suddenly running short. But how could she trust again so soon after being scorched by marriage?
Ewan stood as straight as a man more than six feet could as he walked into Haggis’ office. He’d let this get out of hand and he had no idea how fix this mess he was in. Because he had to stay to court Clarissa. She was trying like the devil to keep her walls up but he was chipping them away stone by stone.
When he didn’t want to growl in frustration, he had to admit that it was damn fun, chasing a woman like this. He was alive in ways he hadn’t been in years. And he realized he was in love. He wasn’t sure when or how it happened but he was. Irrevocably in love with an English lady who had a Scot temper. She was glorious.
Even this, being called to Haggis’ study, felt like living. Later, after he made Fiona pay for all of this, he’d thank her for helping him find himself again.
He sat in the chair across from Haggis and Fiona took the seat next to him. “What have you got to say for yourself?” Haggis was looking directly at him, there was no mistaking who he was talking to.
He blinked twice. He didn’t have anything to say at all. As far as Haggis knew, anyway. But he couldn’t very well blurt that out. “I’m sorry?”
“Damn right ye are!” Haggis roared. “Pretending to court my daughter all the while making eyes at my niece.”
Oh, well, there was that. He cleared his throat, trying to present some reasonable explanation.
But before he could, Fiona broke in. “I already told ye, we don’t want to marry. Never did. He was just trying to help me—“
“He wasn’t helping you, he was giving himself more time with Clarissa,” Haggis fired back.
Fiona looked at him quickly in question but then she answered. “That’s not true. It was only the second day. He and Clarissa had barely spoken. You can’t take away honorable actions, Da.”
Haggis tossed his hands in the air, but didn’t respond. He simply glared at Ewan, then at Fiona.
Ewan sat silently under Haggis’ accusing gaze. He wouldn’t cower but he’d not provoke the other man.
Finally Haggis spoke. “Fiona, in a few weeks I am to attend a meeting of lairds. We are to discuss the use of land and other issues facing our region. You will be in attendance with me and you will leave with a name or names of men you are interested in pursuing.”
“What?” Fiona’s voice trembled.
“You heard me, lass. Ye’re near twenty years old. It’s time. I tried to be reasonable but ye’ve given me no choice. If ye don’t pick, I’ll choose for ye and it will be done.” He waved towa
rd the door, dismissing Fiona.
Ewan’s stomach gave a little jolt. Haggis was not a man to trifle with under normal circumstances. But if he were that harsh with Fiona…
“Have you noticed we both still call ourselves McDougal?” Haggis’ eyes swung to him. “In England, I’m Ravenscraig and you are Dumfries. But here we’re McDougal because that should mean something. I trusted ye in my home because your kin is my kin, your clan tied to mine.”
“Haggis,” he started out but Haggis cut him off.
“Fiona is a fine woman, unruly, but a true Scot. She’d have made you an excellent bride. I don’t know why—”
“I fell in love.” Ewan looked him in the eye, because the truth meant something. And in this moment he realized the depth of feeling he had for Clarissa. “I didn’t want to. I blamed the English for dragging me off to a war I didn’t care about. The last thing I wanted was an English bride but…” He took a deep breath. “I love Clarissa.”
Glaring at him across the desk, the old laird gritted out, “You were here to court Fiona.”
“I know. But Fiona isn’t interested in me any more than I am in her.” He shrugged, hoping that Haggis would understand. “She’s a fine woman and she’ll make some man a fine—”
“I don’t want yer platitudes,” Haggis practically spit. “I’m not getting any younger. I’ve been having these pains, ye ken? And my daughters, they need to be married because I dinna have an heir.”
Ewan’s hands raked through his hair. He couldn’t blame Haggis one bit. He wanted to make sure his daughters were properly settled. “Who would see them to the alter?”
“My nephew, Ulrich. He’s a good enough boy, but he’d use a hacksaw to do a needle’s job, ye ken? I don’t trust him to provide for the girls’ future.”
“I can help, if ye’d like. With the girls. I know it isn’t the help you wanted but…”
Haggis eyed him over the desk. “If I die before they’re married, will ye see the job done? I’ll take care of Fiona, she’s the hardest. Emilia is no trouble at all. Ainsley, she’s spirited, but men already delight in her company. She’s got this way about her.”
Ewan tried not to grimace. He didn’t want to help the girls find husbands. But then again, being with this family was bringing him back to life. And Haggis was likely fine. “You’d trust me with yer daughters? Are ye sure?”
The other man nodded. “Ye did a good turn for Fiona, keeping her reputation untarnished. And you’ll be good for Clarissa. She needs ye, even if she’s not ready to admit it.”
“That means a great deal—” but a cry echoed through the old stony castle and it had him on his feet in a second. He didn’t know how he knew, but it was Clarissa who’d made the mournful sound. He was sure of it.
“Go son, I’ll catch up,” Haggis bellowed and Ewan didn’t even stop to look before he raced out the door.
The note she’d been holding slipped from Clarissa’s hand as the cry rent her lips. She hadn’t meant to make that sound out loud.
It was just so absolutely awful that she didn’t know what else to do. The butler stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.
Her eyes cast down at the paper as if it might bite her if she took her eyes from it.
A hand gently touched her back. “What is it, lass?” Ewan’s gentle voice washed over her and relaxed her muscles enough for her to point toward the note on the floor. She wanted to curl into him and seek shelter in his strength and heat.
He picked it up and scanned the contents, his serious face growing darker with each passing word. “Like bloody hell,” he growled as he finished reading the letter.
“What am I going to do?” she shuddered. Just today she’d thought she was done grieving and was now healing. A future was emerging from the mist of grief and with a few words on paper, a new beginning disappeared again.
“What do you want to do?” His voice was quiet, soothing, and more importantly, it was the first time anyone had asked her that question. She relaxed further taking several deep, cleansing breaths. Her heart swelled at his kindness, his understanding that this was her life and her decision to make.
“I never want to see him again,” she answered first.
“That is going to be a wee bit difficult, but it can be arranged, if it’s what ye really want.” He hesitated searching her face. His mouth open and shut as though there were more he wanted to say but he didn’t. Instead he waited for her.
Giving him a grin, she reached for his hand. She knew he wanted to tell her not to run but he didn’t. Her parents loved her but they never trusted her to decide for herself. Another reason she was angry. They’d chosen a husband and they’d chosen wrong. And she’d just let it all happen. “You’d really do that? You’d help me run away again?”
Her heart swelled as she looked in his eyes, some of her fear at giving her heart melting away. Ewan was forever rushing in to rescue her as only a hero could.
His eyes crinkled in a grin. “It wouldn’t be so much running away as it would be running to… you’d be running to me lass, and to our future.”
Her eyebrows raised even as her lips parted in a smile. But her other hand came to his. “And if I don’t run away? If I stay and tell him that I’d rather die a ruined spinster than look at his face ever again in my life?”
“Then I’ll stay with ye, lass. And I’ll help ye be strong. But you have to keep your promise to let me court ye after. Ye might decide to be a spinster still but I want that chance.”
She nodded her agreement and, to her complete amazement, a light happiness she hadn’t felt in weeks spread through her body. She was happy even though her mother had written to tell her that Lord Davenport was on his way to Scotland this very moment.
She was happy because Ewan was going to first help her stand up to him and then he was going to court her and she might even marry him or she might not. But for the first time in her life, the choice was hers.
No wonder she’d been so angry with herself. It wasn’t just that Lord Davenport had humiliated her, it was that her parents had set it all up. It had felt like a betrayal. She’d allowed it to happen too. Swept up in the excitement of marrying a marquess. Ridiculous.
Then she’d run away to Scotland. But Haggis had been right, it was time to stop. She squeezed Ewan’s hand and stared into those deep green eyes. Did people really gain their independence by beginning a relationship? She did. Thanks to Ewan. He asked her what she wanted and gave her room to make choices.
She wanted to kiss him. But her uncle was coming down the stairs and the butler was still staring at them. But she had just realized Ewan might just be the perfect man for her. He was bringing out the part of her she’d felt deep inside. The piece that was strong, independent, and fought for what she wanted.
“What the devil is goin’ on?” Haggis bellowed as he came down the steps. He looked tired.
The butler stepped forward, holding up his silver tray. For the first time, Clarissa noticed there was a second letter.
Her uncle reached the bottom of the steps and plucked the letter off the tray. He ripped it open and began reading. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Your mother has been corrupted by your egit of a father.”
She nodded. “In this case, I have to agree.”
“Did you read your entire letter, lass?” Ewan flipped it over.
“No, I only read the first paragraph.” She released his hand to take the paper and then unfolded it.
Dearest Clarissa,
Your father has granted permission to Lord Davenport to visit you at your aunt and uncle’s house in Scotland. Your father fancies that this was all a misunderstanding and that if the match is given a chance, could still work. At the very least, Lord Davenport would like the opportunity to apologize and try to make amends.
We will also be joining you as soon as we can. But until we get there, you must be strong. I’ve seen it in you, you’ve got real Scottish spirit. I know we’ve sheltered you beyond what we
should have, and that you’re suffering from it now. I’m sorry I didn’t better prepare you for this moment but it’s time to stand up, my love.
Your aunts, uncle, and cousins will help you. But you must decide what you want and then you must stand firm. If Davenport is your heart’s desire then so be it. But if not, then it’s your time to be strong.
I will see you very soon.
Your loving Mother
Clarissa read it twice through and then a third just for good measure. “She thinks I’m strong.” She hadn’t been acting that way for the past month. But it was time to face what had happened. She looked in Ewan’s eyes, her head tilting up. She wanted to throw herself in his arms, but she couldn’t now.
“Not many lasses stand in the rain helping to fix a wheel.” His fingers brushed hers again. “Or sing a man through a thunderstorm.” He gave her a soft grin. “Or play the pianoforte ‘til everyone in the room is brought to tears.” Then, in front of her uncle, he leaned down and brushed his lips over her forehead. “I know ye’re strong and spirited. Ye can do this.”
“Ye can,” Uncle Haggis added quietly, for him anyway. “I’m glad ye’re no’ runnin’ lass. Adressin’ your past will help ye embrace the future.”
She smiled, a grin that spread from ear to ear. “I agree.” With her family around her, she would bravely face the man who had wronged her and then she could turn to the future.
Chapter 12
Three days later, in the midst of a steady drizzle that suited her mood perfectly, Clarissa watched as a gilded white carriage, one she’d recognize anywhere, travelled up the long drive toward her uncle’s castle.
Her family was all gathered around her, as were Ewan and Keiran.
Ewan gave a low whistle. “That’s some carriage,” Ewan’s tone was begrudgingly appreciative. “Rich and titled. No wonder your father wanted him to marry ye.”
My Enemy, My Earl Page 8
