The Heir lf-1

by Johanna Lindsay

  She was still there? Duncan sighed inwardly and turned about to face Ophelia. "As if we dinna really want tae get married?"

  He surprised himself in giving her that answer. It simply came out, despite the internal debate he had just been having with himself. So much for any pretenses. Yet he preferred the truth, and perhaps they could work around it and try to get along anyway.

  That thought had him wondering if it was possible for Ophelia to change her ways, or if she was too far gone in her self-absorption. Did he even want to try to change her? Her answer suggested it would be a lost cause.

  "Well, I don't want to marry you," she said in a huffy tone. "Not anymore anyway, since talking to your grandfather pointed out how tedious it will be living here. But you—there's no reason for you to keep pretending, Duncan. You know you won't mind being married to me at all. You, no doubt, only object to how we got engaged again."

  He wasn't rendered exactly speechless, but it did take a moment for him to get past his amazement enough to reply, "Did it e'er occur tae you, Ophelia, that outward appearances might no' be what everyone finds important, that some men might prefer sterling qualities in the lass they marry, rather than a pretty face?"

  She stared at him blankly for a moment, but then she laughed in a condescending way and informed him, "I've had hundreds of marriage proposals to prove otherwise, and most of them from men who barely knew me. What does that tell you about what men prefer?"

  "It tells me they've convinced you into thinking that your beauty is all that matters. And you would have been in line for a rude awakening had you married one o' them, when they finally did get tae know you. I'm going tae be honest wi' you, lass. I dinna like your ways, dinna like the spite you're capable of, dinna like the way you treat people, as if nae one matters but yourself."

  If you think—

  He interrupted her indignant reply, saying in as calm a tone as he could muster, "Be quiet a moment, and let me tell you why I'm telling you this. If we have tae marry, and it doesna look as if anything is going tae save us from it, then we will have only tae choices thereafter, tae live in peace wi' each other, or make our own hell. But the only way we'll manage the peace is if you can change your ways. D'you think you can do that, lass?"

  "There is nothing wrong with the way I behave," she insisted.

  He sighed. "If you willna e'en recognize that your haughty airs and spiteful tendencies are reprehensible tae me, then we've nothing further tae discuss."

  "One little insult I give you, and that makes me spiteful? Do you even care to know why I insulted you? Does it matter to you that I didn't want to marry you, that I was furious that I had been engaged to you without even being asked if I wanted to be engaged to you? I simply wanted out of that engagement. What was so wrong with that?"

  "You had other options," he told her. "The most obvious being that you could have told me how you felt and we could have amicably ended the engagement."

  "You must be joking. I knew very well that once you saw me, nothing would have stopped you from marrying me—unless you were provoked into breaking it off in a moment of rage, which you did."

  He saw her reasoning—up to a point. He had thought himself incredibly lucky when he first laid eyes on her. He had been immediately smitten by her beauty just as other men no doubt were. Had she told him then that she didn't want to marry him, he might well have tried to change her mind about it—at least until he got to know her and discovered that she simply wasn't a likable person. So honesty on her part might not have made any difference.

  But instead of honesty, she'd tried to manipulate him with her insults, and succeeded at it. And that wasn't even the extent of her scheme ...

  "Spreading rumors tae blacken my name was tae this same end?"

  "Don't be silly," she said in a chiding tone. "That wasn't for your benefit at all, was to show my parents that you weren't the ideal husband for me that they were so sure you were, so I could convince them to break the engagement themselves. That didn't work, however. They were set on the match no matter what. But let's not pretend that you were hurt by it, nor was there any chance that you would be unless the rumors turned out to be true. It only took people having a chance to meet you to see that the rumors were groundless."

  He shook his head at her. "D'you no' ken how despicable all o' that scheming is? When a little simple honesty would have—?"

  "Done nothing," she interrupted, her tone now bitter. "I did try that, Duncan. I told my parents from the beginning that I didn't want to marry a man I'd never even met. Now you tell me something, and you be honest about it. How did you feel about being engaged to a woman you'd never met before?" She sighed then. "Never mind, you obviously didn't mind, since you went along with it."

  He flushed with embarrassed heat, because that wasn't exactly true. His reaction to having a wife chosen for him had been the same as hers, or at least what she was claiming hers had been.

  He was forced to admit, "Actually, lass, I didna know aboot it until a few days afore I got here. I'm auld enough tae be picking m'own wife, you ken. Neville was mistaken in thinking he could do it for me. I would have broken the engagement, but I was asked tae at least meet you first, which I did."

  She blushed now as well and complained defensively, "Well, how was I to know that? But since you seem to admire honesty so much, tell me, would you have broken it if I hadn't insulted you?"

  Having only just considered that, his reply was quick. "Nae, at least, no' immediately. You are a beauty, lass, there's nae denying that. But it wouldna have taken verra long for me tae see what's beneath the surface and no' like what's there. Now there's nae choice in the matter, and I've learned that e'en that is indirectly your doing because you deliberately made an enemy o' that lass who saw us t'gether. Had it been anyone but her, we wouldna be in this fix now."

  "Hardly," she shot back. "Buying silence is a tricky business that is never a sure thing."

  Duncan rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "No' everyone needs tae be bought off, lass. Some people, believe it or no', would actually understand and wouldna want tae see either o' us hurt or ruined due tae one innocent meeting that might have been misconstrued."

  "You put too much trust in human nature," she scoffed at him.

  "And you dinna put enough. So we're back tae where we started, stuck wi' each other. And I'm still wanting tae know if you can change your ways. Can you stop making enemies of others simply because you dinna like something they say or do? Can you stop the scheming and vindictive retaliations? Can you stop lying just tae suit your needs or—"

  "Oh, stop," she cut him off dryly. "Why don't I just stop breathing?" "Sarcasm isna going tae help here."

  "That wasn't sarcasm," she retorted. "You obviously are too high-minded for my own tastes, Duncan, so why don't we just admit we aren't suited for each other and never will be. I thought I wouldn't mind marrying you, after I met you, but I have since changed my mind, particularly after speaking with Lord Neville and having it outlined in detail what a drudgery it will be, living here. Believe me, I want out of this engagement as much as you do. I'd even beg, beg, mind you, Mavis at this point to keep her mouth shut. But I know it wouldn't do any good. She hates me, probably always did."

  "Why?" he countered. "Unless you did something tae cause it."

  "Don't be naive. I did nothing but be born with these looks, which cause envy and jealousy in other women, which leads to animosity of the worst sort. They try to hide it, but aren't always successful. Mavis, like so many others, just pretended to be my friend because I’m popular, the 'one to be around.' You think I don't know it, that I'm used that way. You think it's easy to shrug that off?"

  "I think that if I didna suspect that you brought most o' that hate upon yourself, I might pity you."

  "Don't you dare!" she snapped. "And if you want out of this horrid situation that, need I remind you, you caused with your bloody temper, then do something about it! I can't go traipsing about the country trying to f
ind Mavis, but you can. So stop moping about here doing nothing, and get us both out of this."

  She flounced off, leaving him back where he started, with little hope for his future. Find the Newbolt lass

  himself, when he wasn't familiar with this country and wouldn't know where to even begin looking? Yet Ophelia was right. He had been moping. He'd let the situation get him so deep into misery that he couldn't see any way to crawl out of it. Yet just because he was sure he didn't have even a small chance in hell of success was no reason not to search for that small chance.

  His only real hope was that there were men out there looking for her, men accustomed to tracking down people, or so his grandfather had assured him. That wasn't enough to really sustain him, though, not when his wedding day was just around the corner.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Having made the decision to search for Mavis Newbolt himself, it was quickly brought home to Duncan how futile it was going to be when he began gathering information before he left Summers Glade, and counted up the many addresses involved that were spread all across the country. Ironically, Ophelia had supplied most of those addresses, including those of Mavis's close friends, who would hopefully all be in London, because even they had other addresses in other towns, any one of which Mavis might be visiting.

  Knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to get to every residence in the few days he had left, he needed to decide which ones might gain him the most information the quickest, or if he got lucky, Mavis herself. Since it wasn't a decision he could easily make, though, when he didn't know any of the people involved, he sought out someone who was sure to know more than he.

  He found Raphael easily enough; in fact, the duke's son had been looking for him as well, or implied as much when he said, "You'll be devastated, I know, to be tendered my adieu, but all good things—or bad, as it were, must come to an end. And yes, I'm sure you need an interpretation for that, so in other words, I'm about to take myself back to London. This place has become much too depressing. You'd think a funeral were pending, rather than a wedding."

  "I canna argue that," Duncan replied. "I'm leaving for London myself and wanted to ask—"

  "Flying the coop, are you?" Rafe cut in. "My, my, didn't think you'd take that route."

  Duncan bristled, but needing the man's opinion, kept that to himself. "Nor am I. I'm going tae search for Mavis Newbolt, the lass that holds the scandal in her hands. She's the only one who can get me out o' this mess."

  "Search as in she's gone missing?"

  Duncan nodded. "She didna return home as expected after leaving here, and her parents got so annoyed with the inquiries made aboot her that they left their London residence as well. Neville has people still looking, but they're no' having any luck."

  "Sounds like she doesn't want to be found," Raphael speculated.

  "I'm aware o' that, yet someone must know where she might have gone tae ground. I've the addresses o' her friends and will be—"

  "No doubt wasting your time," Raphael cut in again. "If she's hiding, though I can't imagine why, she won't let her friends know where she is."

  Duncan sighed. "I dinna suppose you know anything aboot the lass that might point tae where she could have gone when she left?"

  "Me? I've never met the chit, but as it happens, I do know her cousin John Newbolt, who was apparently her escort here. If it were me, I'd be looking for him, since he's the one she left here with."

  "He's gone missing as well, at least I'm told he hasna returned home either."

  Raphael raised a golden brow at that, but then shook his head and mumbled, more to himself, "No, they are first cousins, they wouldn't—never mind. At least your grandfather's people are being thorough, to have looked for him. You should find that reassuring."

  Duncan nodded, though it was little consolation, when those men hadn't produced results yet. "Auld Neville is sparing nae expense in this matter, according tae m'grandda Archie."

  Raphael chuckled. "No, he wouldn't. I imagine the thought of Ophelia as his granddaughter-in-law has quite horrified him, now he knows what mischief she's capable of."

  "I wouldna know," Duncan replied with a shrug. "I talk tae him as little as possible m'self."

  "What ho!" Rafe chuckled. "Intimidated, eh? Can't say as I blame you—"

  "Och, dinna be running off on another tangent. I simply dinna like him."

  "Your own grandfather? Why?"

  Instead of answering that, which was none of Raphael's business, Duncan asked, "I dinna suppose you might know where this cousin could be found?"

  Raphael got the point, and after a thoughtful frown, said, "Don't know him well, just in passing since we belong to the same club, but you know how men will talk—and brag, when there aren't any women around. I've heard he keeps a place in Manchester just for his mistresses, a property he won in a card game. This isn't unusual, having a place just for your mistress. Many married men do the same. But in this case it struck me funny, since John still lives at home with his mother, and this property in Manchester is the only one he personally owns. You'd think he would have moved into it himself, now wouldn't you, rather than put his mistresses there. Particularly when it's so bloody far from London where his mother lives."

  "But it'd be inappropriate for him tae take his cousin there, aye?"

  "Course it would—unless the place was presently empty." Raphael shrugged. "Only mentioned it because if I had a young cousin who asked me to take her somewhere that she could hide, as it were, and I had a house that no one in my family was aware of, that would be where I might take her—if it was currently without an occupant. Especially since it's not that far from here, but is far from London."

  "Would you be having the address?" "Did I say I knew him well?"

  Duncan sighed again, but thought to ask, "How big is this town then?"

  Raphael laughed. "Much too big to be hoping someone on a corner might direct you where you want to go. It's a bloody city, old chap, not a little town or village."

  Duncan could have wrung the man's neck at that point, for getting his hopes up, then shooting them down again. His expression probably said that was what he was thinking, because Raphael took at least one step back.

  But then he grinned cheekily and said, "I could get you out of this mess." "E'en if that were true, which I'm doubting, why would you?"

  "Gads, you needn't look so suspicious. No ulterior motives, I assure you. I'm just aware that there is another you would prefer to marry."

  Knowing just how frequently Raphael tended to mention his young sister, Amanda, and that he would probably like to get out of the chore of chaperoning her about, which would only be accomplished by her own marriage, Duncan didn't doubt that was who he was referring to.

  So he assured him, "You're wrong, mon. I dinna want tae marry her."

  "No? Well, knock me over, I really think you mean it." And then with a sigh of his own, "Very well, so I was wrong. But I'm still willing to help."

  "How?"

  "By asking Ophelia to marry me instead, of course. I'm probably the only one she would throw you over for."

  Duncan couldn't restrain a snort. "That's a bluidy high opinion you have o' yourself, mon, likely tae rival her own opinion o' herself."

  Raphael chuckled. "Hardly. We're talking titles here, which is all she's really interested in, that and the wealth that comes with them. Don't make the mistake of thinking it's actually you she wants. And the title I will be inheriting does happen to be a bit more lofty than yours."

  "E'en if it might work, which it willna, I couldna ask you tae make such a sacrifice."

  "What sacrifice? I'm not talking about actually marrying her," Raphael said with a shudder. "Merely asking her, doing the engaged thing for a bit, then breaking it off. I'll even do the gentlemanly part and let her do the breaking. Save face and all of that. Then no one's hurt, you escape this fate worse than death, I get back to my usual pursuits of debauchery and the like, and everyone's happy."


  "Except Ophelia, who still has this enemy o' hers who can at any time ruin her wi' the information she has," Duncan pointed out. "What is tae stop Mavis from spreading her tale if Ophelia doesna marry me? Getting her engaged tae you won't prevent that, will merely turn the tale into the full-blown scandal we're trying tae avoid."

  Raphael frowned, having momentarily overlooked that wrinkle. "Well, hell, you really are in a fix then, aren't you? So what are you waiting for? Come to think of it, I haven't been to Manchester in a while myself. Think I'll join you. Two of us can cover much more area than you can alone. For that matter, let your grandfather know, so he can send his people there as well."

  Much as Duncan hated to admit it, and he still didn't like the roundabout way Raphael said things, the man was turning out to be likable after all.

  Chapter Forty

  Sabrina was getting on with her life. She found that if she could keep Duncan out of her mind, she could even laugh again when she felt like it. Of course, it didn't take much for a spurt of tears to sneak up on her either, but for the most part, she managed to appear her old self as she went about her normal routines.

  There had been one exception when poor Robert Willison had stopped to talk to her on her trek through Oxbow and had been treated to one of her spurts. He'd been so upset when she burst into tears in front of him that he'd gone off to fetch three of his neighbors to help.

  By the time everyone converged on her, though, she had her emotions back in hand and had blamed the tears on a speck of dust that was bothering her eye, and reminded her audience that a good cry was the best way to wash one's eyes. They'd looked at her as if she were daft, but then, people often did look at her that way when she got into one of her silly moods, so that was nothing out of the ordinary.

  Her aunts had decided she was "recovered" as well, though it had never been discussed just what her malady was. They knew it had to do with Duncan, but by unspoken agreement, they weren't going to badger her about it. It did come up occasionally, though. How could it not when Duncan's wedding was still the major topic of the neighborhood, and so it was hard not to mention it?