by Monica Burns
The dark anger hardening his features made her regret poking him as a sudden wave of trepidation swept through her. The Earl of Argaty was clearly not accustomed to someone taking him to task, but she’d said too much to stop now.
“That’s enough.” The quiet command went unheeded as Louisa glared at him.
“Didn’t you see the look on Ross’s face this afternoon when you were so kind to my son, but ignored him?”
“I said enough.”
“What you did this afternoon was cruel and heartless. Are you really so blind that—“
“Enough.”
The word was like a thunderclap over her head, and Louisa swallowed the rest of what she’d been about to say. For a brief instant, guilt and what she thought might be pain flashed across his face before his rugged features became a cold, stony façade. Beneath his icy stare, she remembered her reference to him being blind and flinched.
It had been a tactless remark. She’d overstepped the line in her effort to make Ewan see how much Ross wanted his father’s approval. She could have found another way to point out Ewan’s lack of consideration where his son was concerned. Apologies weren’t always easy for her, but he deserved one. Swallowing her righteous outrage, she clasped her hands in front of her.
“I’m sorry.” She wanted to add more, but she was certain anything else she might say would detract from her sincerity.
The cold anger reflected on his features didn’t thaw. Her heart skipped a beat at his expression. Not even Sebastian had ever eyed her with such raw fury. Despite the icy finger scraping down her spine, she remained where she was, fully prepared for the man to rain all manner of hellfire and retribution on her head.
“We will not speak of this again.” The quiet inflection in his voice made the force of his anger all the more threatening. “You are here to school the boy—nothing more.”
“Yes,” she said in a meek manner she barely recognized as one she possessed.
“Unless there is something else, outside of my personal affairs, you wish to discuss, you may go.”
It was the coldest dismissal she’d ever had handed down to her. In fact, she couldn’t remember anyone ever rejecting her so scornfully. The knowledge only emphasized how much of the family recklessness she possessed. The Rockwood trait for treading where angels feared to go had been handed down to her in abundance. Louisa nodded slowly and turned to retreat. She’d almost reached the door when a wave of dizziness rolled over her.
Oh God, not now. The last thing she wanted was the an dara sealladh taking control of her body before she was out of Ewan’s sight. The man would think she was feigning the episode in an effort to soften his attitude toward her. She stretched out her hand hoping to reach the door, but failed before she was pulled into a familiar well of darkness.
A cackle of laughter filled the air before she saw anything. Almost as if someone had abruptly pulled back a curtain, she saw the shadowy figure of a small boy sitting on the floor with his back to her. The child laughed again, and the malevolence in the sound filled the space around her until her skin was as cold as if she’d fallen into an icy burn.
In the next instant, she was staring down over the boy’s shoulder at a small brown rabbit bleeding and squirming wildly in an effort to escape the boy’s grasp. In the child’s other hand was a knife covered in blood. As she watched in abject horror, the boy jabbed the tip of the knife into the rabbit’s hind quarters. The small animal squealed in pain, and with a gleeful chuckle, the boy pressed the knife into the animal’s chest and opened the rabbit up with a slow downward stroke.
The small animal shrieked with pain before it went limp. It was a horrible sound, but it was the child’s laughter that terrified her even more. The suddenness with which the darkness parted and became light was a blessing. But it failed to prevent the powerful surge of nausea cresting over her. Bile rose in her throat, and it forced her to bend at the waist and vomit.
Another rush of bile rose up in her throat as her body tried to purge the evil that had touched her. This was the first time the an dara sealladh had ever made her physically ill. Although her brother occasionally suffered migraines after a particularly strong vision, Percy had never mentioned anything such as this.
Despite her physical reaction, she knew the child’s laugh and cruelty was a memory she would not forget for a long time, if ever. Directly behind her, Louisa heard Ewan's a quiet oath echo in her ear before he summoned Asadi with a sharp command. The nausea had already begun to fade as Ewan’s steel arm awkwardly wrapped around her waist to support her.
The chill of the artificial limb’s metal sank through his shirt and the wool of her gown to cool her skin. The sensation was a distinct contrast to the warmth of his hard, muscular body pressing into her side as he guided her to a nearby chair. The loud noise of the study door flying open made her wince as Ewan's man-servant charged into the room.
Still feeling off-balance, Louisa barely heard Asadi’s quiet words of concern followed by Ewan’s reply. Her elbow resting on the arm of the chair, she pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. Not once since her first experience of the an dara sealladh had she ever been made ill or so deeply disturbed by a vision.
She’d always viewed her ability to be a gift and had used it discreetly when helping to solve her family, friends or even her own problems. But what she’d just seen went far beyond anything she'd been shown in the past. A shudder rippled through her at the thought, and she jumped violently as Ewan’s gloved hand touched her shoulder.
“Drink this.” The glass he handed her contained a generous amount of brandy. She shook her head.
“No, I’ll be—”
“Damn it, Louisa, do as you’re told.”
At the sharp, authoritative order, she accepted the brandy snifter. The first swallow washed away the foul taste in her mouth, but she coughed at the fiery sensation it made on its way down her throat. She tried to give the drink back to him, but he didn’t take it.
“Drink all of it.” The command made her wrinkle her nose with distaste, and as she met his gaze, he scowled at her. “God in heaven, woman, are you always so stubborn?”
The glass halfway to her lips, she started to reply, and his frown darkened with a touch of the anger she’d witnessed earlier. Taking the path of least resistance, she didn’t argue and choked down a second gulp. By the third drink, she’d adapted to the taste, and was able to finish the alcohol without coughing.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she handed the empty glass to him. He didn’t answer as he moved away to set it on the sideboard. Slowly rising to her feet, she heard him utter a harsh oath.
“Sit down, before you faint.”
It was a roughly spoken command that dared her to argue with him but contained a note of concern for her as well. Deciding not to challenge the order, she sank back down into the chair. In all honesty, she was still shaken by her vision and welcomed the respite. Unlike other instances when she’d pondered the meaning of what she’d been shown, this was one vision she wanted to forget. The memory of the child’s laughter suddenly filled her head. It sent an icy shiver down her back as the clarity of the evil sound echoed in her head. She turned her head toward the sideboard then looked up at Ewan.
“Please, may I have another?”
Her whispered request made him hesitate, but he didn’t question her. In seconds, he offered her another glass that held far less of the amber liquid than the first one he’d given her. When she’d finished it, Louisa sat staring into the empty crystal snifter.
“So what Ross told McCallum is true.” The quiet words made her jerk her head up to see him studying her intently.
“That I’ve not recovered completely?” she asked softly and dropped her gaze back down to her glass. “Yes, it appears I've had a relapse.”
“Don’t be obtuse, Louisa. You’re completely recovered from your illness. I’m referring to your gift of sight.” At his matter-of-fact tone, her gaze darted back to him
. His eyebrows arched as she studied him with amazement.
“I might have attended Charterhouse and Cambridge, but I’m still a Scotsman. I’m quite familiar with the an dara sealladh, but I’ve only seen it cause someone fatigue.”
“It's never made me ill before,” she said with bewilderment and another small bout of nausea stirred in the pit of her stomach.
“From your reaction, you must have seen something quite unsettling.” There was a question in his voice, but she refused to satisfy his curiosity. Her strength having returned, she rose from her seat.
“If you’ll excuse me, I would like to retire for the evening.” She averted her gaze as she waited for his reply.
“As you wish. Allow me to walk you to your room.”
“That’s unnecessary,” she said quietly, but emphatically as she looked at him again.
Other than narrowing his gaze on her, he didn’t protest. He simply nodded. Grateful he had no intention to press her on the matter any further, she walked toward the door. As her hand gripped the door knob, Ewan cleared his throat.
“Louisa. I’ve seen more than my fair share of horror on the battlefield. Should you have need of someone’s ear, I’m happy to listen.” The gentleness in his voice startled her, and she looked over her shoulder at him. Although his features were unreadable, she found his offer a comforting gesture. Any other time she might have accepted it, but all she wanted was to forget the horror she’d seen. With a bob of her head, she silently acknowledged his kindness then walked out of the study.
Chapter 7
Ewan tugged his riding glove over his metal hand as he strode across the stable yard. The sound of McCallum’s soft brogue made him stop halfway to the barn. Under the Scotsman’s careful eye, Louisa’s oldest son and Ross were learning the finer points of riding. For almost a week now, McCallum and the boys had spent an hour or two in the paddock every day on old Treasach’s back.
It had been at Louisa’s request the boys spend time out in the fresh air, and riding had seemed the logical choice of exercise. She’d not made the request to him directly. Instead, she’d put the question to the family’s long-time retainer. In fact, Ewan hadn’t seen her since the night she’d chastised him about Ross.
On the one or two occasions he’d caught sight of her, she’d immediately headed in a different direction to avoid him. He was certain her deliberate behavior had nothing to do with fear. The woman had demonstrated how fearless she was in the face of even his darkest fury. It was a trait for which she’d earned his admiration. The most likely reason for her avoidance of him was she didn’t want to answer any questions he had.
What he’d witnessed almost a week ago in his study had alarmed him. He’d never met anyone with such a strong gift of sight that it made them physically ill. Not even Mrs. Dunmore’s gift of the an dara sealladh was so powerful. It hadn’t just been Louisa’s physical reaction to her vision, it had been the expression of horror on her lovely face when she’d emerged from her trance.
Whatever she’d seen had terrified her. In the back of his head, a small voice whispered a warning. Argaty Keep had dark secrets, and now he was beginning to question why he’d agreed to let Louisa become Ross’s governess. Another voice scoffed at him for being so dim-witted, while in the far reaches of his mind he heard Gilbert’s disturbing laugh.
The sound of McCallum slightly raising his voice pulled Ewan’s attention back to the paddock. Watching the long-time family retainer calling out commands reminded him of a time he’d learned how to ride in the same small paddock. While Louisa’s son had a good seat, it was Ross who displayed the makings of an exceptional horseman.
The boy laughed at something Charlie said, and Ewan froze at the sound. He couldn’t remember ever hearing Ross laugh before. Guilt tugged at him before he cast it aside. Any remorse he had was reserved for his own folly at eagerly agreeing to wed the boy’s mother to begin with.
Agnes had been his mother’s choice, and up until that moment in time, his mother had never shown any interest in him. For the first time in his life, he’d had the opportunity to please his mother, and he’d willingly agreed to marry Agnes. It had been one of the worst mistakes he’d ever made.
On their wedding night, his bride had pleaded her need to know him better before she shared his bed, and Ewan had agreed to give her time. Days later he'd been sent to the Sudan with the Black Watch regiment without ever having touched his wife.
When the dowager had written a few months later that he was to be a father, he'd become numb to everything except the humiliation and fury at being cuckolded. He'd released his rage on the battlefield like a madman fighting invisible demons. His sole comfort had come from the belief no one knew he'd been cuckolded. Even that had been taken from him when he'd returned to the keep at the time of Agnes's death.
Upon hearing Agnes had died in childbirth, he'd chosen to maintain the appearance of a grieving husband by returning home as soon as he received the news. It had taken the dowager less than a day to reveal she'd known about Agnes's pregnancy all along. She had gloated as to how his desire to please her had made it easy to ensure he didn't learn the truth until too late. Her poisonous words had sent him reeling as he'd faced the dowager's venomous amusement in stunned, humiliated silence.
Wallis had been in the room as her sister shared the lurid details of her vicious scheme to humiliate Ewan. When her sister had fainted, the dowager had become even more elated. Ewan had been too furious and shamed by it all to do anything other than catch his aunt as she slid to the floor.
When her sister had recovered from her shock, Lady Argaty had matter-of-factly informed Ewan he was to recognize Ross. Wallis had vehemently protested her sister's demand. It was the first time he'd ever seen his aunt angry. Lady Argaty had dismissed her sister's objections and threatened to tell all and sundry how Ewan had been cuckolded if he didn't accept Ross as his child.
The immoral, sickening treachery of it all had pushed him to the edge of a deep chasm of fury. He'd barely managed to keep his hands away from the dowager's throat. Several hours later, Ewan had left Argaty Keep out of fear he might act on his dark urges. Instead, he'd used that darkness on the battlefield. The carnage he'd left in his wake had made the enemy call him, Savage Infidel.
The sound of McCallum’s voice penetrated his dark thoughts, and his gaze swept around the paddock. For the first time, he realized Louisa’s youngest boy, Wills, was nowhere to be seen. Usually the boy was sitting on the top rail of the fence surrounding the riding ring. McCallum had chosen to give the younger child lessons without the other two boys, which gave Wills the opportunity for mischief.
From inside the stable, he heard Louisa calling out to her son. The exasperation in her voice was evident, and he continued across the yard toward the barn. As he walked through the wide entrance of the stable, he saw Louisa with her hands on her hips looking down the corridor that extended the length of the building.
“Wills, where are you?”
“Here, Mama. I’m up here.”
The boy’s cheerful, disembodied response made Louisa look upward, and her face lost all its color. Ewan’s gaze followed hers, and he grimaced at the sight of Wills sitting complacently on one of the beams that ran from one side of the stable walls to the other.
“William Wallace Morehouse, get down from there this instant.”
“But Mama, I can see all the horses from up here.”
“I don’t care if you can see London,” she snapped. “Get down from there, now.”
As Ewan watched the boy get to his feet in a haphazardly fashion, he released a low growl of concern for the child's safety. He’d climbed the same rafters as a boy and had learned the hard way a fall could be quite painful. The boy looked around, clearly debating how best to climb down from his perch. Afraid of startling the boy, Ewan didn’t say anything as he strode quickly toward the stall directly beneath Wills.
Louisa’s sharp gasp of fear made him look up to see her youngest teet
er on the beam. Increasing the speed of his stride, Ewan leapt onto Balgair’s back. The large gelding barely moved as Ewan centered himself on the horse. Directly overhead, he saw the boy regain his balance and continue looking around him for an easy path to safety.
“Mr. Morehouse, I want you to carefully take two steps to the left then hop down here onto Balgair. I’ll catch you.” At his quiet order, Wills frowned.
“How? You only have one arm.” The boy’s candid response made his mouth twist slightly with amusement despite his fear that Wills might fall. The child was as blunt and straight-forward as his mother.
“I might only have one good arm, but I had no trouble mounting Balgair. Are you doubting me when I say I'll catch you?”
“No, my lord.”
“Then I give you my word that I’m more than capable of catching you.”
The boy tipped his head to one side and studied Ewan carefully for a long moment. Then with a cheeky grin he nodded, took two quick steps to the side, and without any warning jumped off the beam. Ewan released a loud grunt as Wills landed hard on his chest. As his body protested the rough action, the boy grinned.
“You were right. You did catch me.”
“I’m not in the habit of making promises I can’t keep.”
With his good arm, Ewan lowered Wills to the ground. As he slid off the gelding’s back, Wills gave him a small bow.
“Thank you, my lord. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, young man,” Louisa snapped as she hurried forward to meet Wills as the two of them walked out of Balgair’s stall. Her hands gripped her son’s shoulders as she bent over him. “If I ever catch you doing something so dangerous again, I’ll take a switch to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mama.” The regret in her youngest son’s voice made Louisa close her eyes as she pulled her child into a tight embrace. The boy immediately squirmed against her. “Please, Mama. Not in front of his lordship.”
Ewan eyed the boy with amusement as Louisa released him. Before she could say another word, Wills darted past her and out into the stable yard. The moment he disappeared from view, she drew in a sharp breath of relief and turned to face him.
