Every Rogue's Heart

by Dawn Brower

  Chapter 17

  The next day, Clarissa sat reading in the library. She hadn’t slept much again last night, Ewan having snuck into her room before she’d even had the chance to make it to his.

  She grinned at the memory. Oh the things they’d done. Beautiful, wicked things. He’d said he was a rake for her alone and, not only did she love that, but she found herself more wanton than she’d ever been. But only for him.

  He was right, of course. He’d have to return to his home and she didn’t want to be without him. The decision was fast approaching and she knew where her heart wanted to be. With Ewan. And so she’d tell her father that she’d decided to accept Ewan’s offer.

  The door opening startled her slightly and she looked up from her book she’d barely been reading. Lord Davenport stood before her, looking impeccably groomed as always. A ridiculous image of him attempting to tup the maid without mussing his hair made her near giggle. She held it back.

  “I’ve come to say my goodbyes,” he announced. “I’m leaving on the morrow.”

  She gave a nod, unsure of what to say. Thank you for visiting or come again seemed untrue and inappropriate so she settled for, “I wish you all the best.”

  “And you as well,” he replied stepping closer and nerves fluttered in her belly. She had hoped that would be the end.

  He took a breath. “Which is why I must implore you one last time to consider my suit.”

  “Lord Davenport,” she started, wanting to end this conversation before it began. Even without Ewan, she wouldn’t marry Davenport, but Ewan made her that much stronger.

  “Call me James.” He gave her a pointed look. “I know you fancy yourself in love.”

  “That has almost nothing to do with why I won’t marry you.” Why deny it?

  “I never lied to you, Clarissa. I never pretended to have feelings I didn’t or misrepresent what I wanted from you.” His eyes were piercing as he leaned forward.

  She took a steadying breath. “That is all well and good but it doesn’t change what happened.”

  “Arranged marriages have an understanding.”

  “Does that understanding include humiliation in front of all of English society?” Her voice was rising.

  His face spasmed into something that appeared to be regret or pain. She didn’t care. He deserved to hurt. It wasn’t even close to how he’d hurt her. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for. Most ladies wouldn’t have disobeyed their father as you did.” To her shock he ran his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it considerably. “And you’re right, of course. I can’t take it back and, unless I find another bride with a suitable dowry, I’ll likely be ruined for my misstep as well.”

  She caught her breath then. To sell off his belongings would most certainly be an equivalent humiliation. Her face softened and her anger eased. “You’ll find someone. There are plenty of ladies more aware of the trade they would be making if they married you.”

  His eyes snapped up to hers. “You’re still making that trade, Clarissa. That is what you need to understand.”

  She stared at him in complete confusion, wondering what on earth he was talking about. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Dumfries is smarter than me. I’ll give him that. He’s appealed to your heart and, most likely, to your body. I thought I only needed to win over your father. I didn’t understand your spirit.”

  “He….he…didn’t even kn-know I had a dowry,” she stuttered out. But a sinking dread pulled at her stomach.

  His face scrunched in disbelief. “Of course he knew, everyone knows. Is that what he told you?” he shook his head and his eyes rolled heavenward. “I wounded your pride, Clarissa. I admit it freely. But when you discover he was just after the coin, he’ll break your heart.”

  She sat stunned into silence, willing herself not to cry. Not in front of him of all people. Part of her wanted to stand up and cry out her denial while another was forced to admit it was a possibility. Ewan needed money, he’d made no secret of it and all of England knew about her dowry. Ewan wouldn’t trick her like that would he?

  He took advantage of her silence to take her hand and place a soft kiss on it. “You can still change your mind. No matter what you’ve done with him, we have an understanding.”

  Before she could answer, tell him how ridiculous a marriage based on an understanding of infidelity sounded, he stood and was gone.

  If Davenport hadn’t been paying attention to her in London, he certainly had been in Scotland, because he had undoubtedly found her weakest point. She was afraid that no man would love her more than he loved her dowry. That it was the most attractive thing about her and if she entered a relationship, she’d undoubtedly find that the man she’d fallen for did not return her feelings.

  She’d known Ewan needed money to repair his lands after being gone. No wonder she’d been so resistant. In her heart, she’d always been worried that it wasn’t her he wanted at all.

  Chapter 18

  She stayed in her room for dinner that night, not wanting to see anyone. Clarissa knew she was hiding again. But her conversation with Ewan needed to be private and she was a terrible liar. Her feelings would be written all over her face.

  Finishing her tray of food, she set it in the hall and then paced around her room. The house grew quiet but sleep eluded her.

  Around midnight a soft knock came at her door. “Clarissa,” Ewan called.

  She bit her lip. Taking a breath, she tiptoed to the door. “I don’t…I don’t feel well.”

  She heard his swear softly. “I shouldna have kept ye outside for so long, lass. Do ye have a fever?”

  He was blaming himself? Guilt rolled in her stomach. “No, I’m fine, really.” She clasped her hands together. “I just need some rest, that’s all.”

  “Let me check on ye, lass, to be safe. I hate to think—”

  “No,” she said a too loudly and much too fast. She thought she wanted a private conversation with him but the truth was, she just wanted more time to sort out her feelings. “I…I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  He was silent for so long that she crept closer to the door to see if she could hear any sound. Was it possible he’d left?

  “Clarissa, open the door.” The volume of his voice startled her, he was no longer whispering, and she jumped back giving a little cry.

  “I can’t…I mean I shouldn’t…You wouldn’t want to fall ill,” she fumbled hurriedly.

  “Open the door now, or I’ll pound on it ‘til I wake the entire house.” His voice rumbled with anger and she paused for only a second before rushing to the door.

  As soon as the latch slid over he pushed it open and then quickly closed it. Clarissa might have been afraid, allowing an angry man into her room, but Ewan would never hurt her.

  His eyes scanned up and down her. “What the devil is going on?”

  Her eyes drank him in too. His strength, the broad chest, strong arms, and chiseled jaw, his overlong hair.

  Some part of her wanted to rush into his arms and forget her fears. Seek comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

  “I…I… just didn’t feel well and I…” She looked away, not making eye contact.

  He moved closer then and she could smell him. His fresh, manly scent that filled her with longing. “You’re not tellin’ me the truth. Out with it.”

  She gave a nod, breathing in his scent, drawing strength from it, but still not looking at him. “I wanted to know if you knew about my dowry when you arrived to court Fiona.”

  She heard him suck in his breath, could actually feel him tensing. “I didna.”

  “Everyone knows about it,” she answered but it sounded foolish repeating Davenport’s words here in front of Ewan. She looked at him then, because the truth would be in his eyes.

  “Well, I didna.” His eyes were narrowing. “What does it have to do with anything?”

  Didn’t he already know? Was he lying? “You came here looking for an heires
s. Fiona told me so.”

  His eyes widened and for a moment, pain spasmed across his features before he masked them again. “Ye think I only want yer dowry?” his voice held a soft, dead calm that frightened her more than his anger would have.

  She stepped closer, her gaze imploring him to understand. “I can’t be fooled again, Ewan. It would destroy any hope I have left.”

  “But after what we’ve shared, I can’t believe you still don’t trust me.” He turned away and stepped to the window. Raking his hands through his hair, he crossed his arms over his chest.

  Fear was bubbling inside her. She thought this was what she wanted but looking at him now, she wasn’t at all sure about what she was doing. When he wasn’t there it was easy to doubt but with his large frame filling her bedroom, her only thought was to throw herself in his arms and beg him to kiss her into oblivion. “I love you,” her voice sounded strange to her own ears. “But I’m afraid.”

  He turned then. Every line of his body was hard as stone. “That just isn’t good enough. I’ve been trying to be patient but ye doubt me at every turn. How can we build a life on that?” His voice was growing louder with every word.

  She shook her head. “Please don’t be angry. I don’t want to doubt.”

  “I could marry ye anyway, lass, and hope that my love wins ye over.” His tone sounded deflated and he scrubbed his face with his hands. “But what if I dunna?”

  “Please…” she said because in this moment, she didn’t know what else to say. And then she threw herself into his arms.

  In that moment she realized that he felt like home. His chest was under her ear as his strong arms wrapped protectively around her. One of his hands snaked up into her hair and tilting her head back, his lips crashed down on hers.

  It was a desperate, passionate kiss that was made more achingly beautiful by the threat of loss. Her lips clung to his and his arms wrapped more tightly around her.

  He pulled away first, lifting his head. She stood on tiptoe to keep from breaking the contact but all too soon, his lips left hers. “I have to go.”

  Her heart thumped wildly. But tomorrow would be a new day and then she could think about how to make this better. Because now that she was losing him, she realized that they belonged together. “We can talk in the morning. I’ll find an excuse to slip away.”

  “Lass, I didna mean I needed to leave your room. I meant I needed to leave Castle Ravenscraig.” His arms slipped from her waist back to his sides. “This has gone too far already and if I let it go any further…”

  “No.” She stepped back. “Why would you need to leave?”

  “If ye think I can fake that kind of feeling, I’m not sure ye know me at all.“ It was his turn to look away. “I know ye’re trying to protect yer heart but ye’re breaking mine in the process.”

  Covering her mouth with her hands, she looked at him, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Don’t say that. Of course I know you and I would never—” But she stopped. Because Davenport had told her, he’d never meant to hurt her. That didn’t mean he hadn’t.

  He didn’t say another word but she heard him walk across the room. Heard the door click open, swing out, and then snap shut.

  She didn’t move for several seconds, her eyes closed. She was afraid that if she took even a single step, she’d shatter, never to be put back together.

  Chapter 19

  Never in her life had she cried so much. She’d slept for a few hours between tears. She was dimly aware that the sun had risen and breakfast had come and gone. In a way Davenport had been right. This time her heart was involved and it hurt so much more than wounded pride.

  What made it all the worse was it was her own fault.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. She thought to ignore it but her mother’s voice called from the other side, “May I come in?”

  Dragging herself out of bed, she crossed the room and slid open the lock. Swinging the door open, her mother stared at her for a moment before sweeping into the room and folding her daughter into a hug.

  If she’d had any tears left, she’d have cried again, but all she could do now was rest her head on her mother’s shoulder. Clarissa’s voice caught as she mumbled, “I’ve ruined everything.”

  “I doubt it. But tell me what’s happened.” Her mother smoothed her hair and led her to sit on the bed.

  Without explaining how she’d allowed Ewan into her room unchaperoned, she told her mother how she’d questioned Ewan’s motives and how he’d left.

  Her mother gave her a sad smile. “That is difficult.” Her mother sighed. “Do you truly think that’s why he asked you to marry him?”

  Clarissa shrugged. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I just can’t allow another man to humiliate me.”

  “And how do you feel about him?” her mother’s voice was soft and her look questioning.

  “I love him. I never want to be—” she stopped. She was going to say that she never wanted to be without him. She really had made a mash of this entire situation.

  “Darling,” her mother held her hands. “If he only wanted your dowry, how do you think he would have responded to your accusation?”

  Clarissa paused. If what he wanted was her money, he would have assured he wasn’t in search of a dowry and married her at the first possible moment. Instead, he’d been so hurt, he’d left with no bride and no dowry at all. “Oh mother,” she gasped.

  “It’s not too late, darling. He only left an hour ago.” Her mother pulled her to her feet.

  “Go after him?” she asked. Her mother nodded, squeezing her hands.

  “But father?”

  “You let me take care of him.” Her mother was already pulling her up and crossing to the wardrobe.

  “He’ll be on horseback and I’ll be in a carriage, how am I going to catch him?” But she started dressing.

  “He’ll have to stop at some point.”

  Nodding, she pulled the cord to summon a maid. “Kieran hates the rain. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it will start.”

  “It’s Scotland in spring. Of course it will. There’s a tray outside your door, eat something,” her mother called as she pulled out a sturdy gown for travel.

  Within forty-five minutes, she’d jumped into the carriage, Agnes accompanying her as a companion. Uncle Haggis said they’d likely stop at the Cock n’ Bull Tavern and Inn in Kirkcaldy for the night since they had gotten a late start. Apparently Kieran had been difficult to convince to leave.

  If they weren’t there, the ladies were to turn back to Ravenscraig. Her Uncle Haggis would arrange a proper escort to take them on the four-day journey to Ewan’s home in Hawick.

  Her father had been terribly upset by the arrangement but, true to her word, her mother had pulled him aside. Someday, Clarissa would have to ask her what she said.

  It was near sunset by the time they approached Kirkcaldy but it was already dark, a storm was brewing. An eerie quiet fell, and Clarissa was near holding her breath. Nervous anticipation was building inside her while a sort of energy filled the air.

  What if he wasn’t there? What if he was and he rejected her apology? Her hands fisted in front of her mouth, dread pooling in her stomach.

  Just as the carriage rolled into town, a rumble of thunder rattled the carriage. Clarissa gasped, because she knew what thunder would do to Ewan.

  The driver needed no encouragement to whip the horses faster and soon the Cock n’ Bull came into sight just as the sky opened up and poured. “Head inside,” the driver yelled. “I’m just gunta get these horses in the barn.”

  With a nod, Agnes and Clarissa made a dash for the inn but the rain soaked them in the minute it took to reach the door.

  Excellent, she groaned to herself. I’m to look like a drowned rat when I try to win back Ewan.

  Ewan sat in the tavern nursing his third ale. He was near the fire, but the warm crackling flames did little to improve his mood. And the ale was doing nothing to quiet the ache in his heart or th
e thoughts ravaging his head.

  The room was crowded and people chatted happily all around him but he’d been silent for hours and though Kieran was next to him still, they’d barely spoken since leaving Ravenscraig.

  Kieran had told him he was a dimwitted fool for leavin’. With some distance from the castle, he was beginning to think Kieran had been right and he was being foolish. He hadn’t listened then, but maybe now he should.

  “Earlier,” he grunted to Kieran, “when ye said I was bein’ a fool, what did ye mean?”

  Kieran stretched in his chair, next to Ewan. “Ye’re sure ye want to hear this?”

  Ewan gave a nod.

  “I know she hurt yer pride, questioning yer motives,” Kieran started.

  “I gave her my heart, and she wanted to know if I was only interested in her money.” His voice was louder than it should have been. He took a breath.

  “She’s just been hurt, ye ken. Agnes told me what happened to her, and I can’t believe she came as far with ye did as she did after that.” Kieran stopped, looking over at him.

  He was busy staring into his ale. Because he’d told her he’d be patient. And the first time she didn’t step forward, but stepped back, he’d cut and run.

  “It’s like you with thunder, ye ken?”

  “I dinna ken.” He winced because despite his denial, he had a feeling he did ken.

  Kieran cleared his throat. “Ye understand it’s not a cannon. But when you hear the noise ye’re mind takes ye back there. I think that it’s what it must be like for Clarissa. She knows she can trust ye, but somethings, they just spook her, even when she understands they shouldna. She’s been broken too and she’s tryin’ to fix it.”

  Ewan’s head found his hand. Because he was a fool.

  “What do I do, Kieran?” His eyes were squeezed shut.

  “Go back, and tell her ye’ll wait as long as takes for her to be ready.” His friend’s hand rested on his shoulder.

  He gave a nod but then another sound caught his attention. Thunder rolled in the distance. He stood like a shot. “I’ll just head to my room,” he muttered.