The Beastly Earl

by Monica Burns

  “And what brought about this change of heart?” he murmured sardonically as he leaned back in his chair. She flinched beneath his mockery, but didn’t look away. In the back of his head, he acknowledged admiration for her unceasing ability not to be intimidated by him. It also served as a warning where this woman and his reactions to her were concerned.

  “Your kindness to Ross at the supper table, and again, just now.”

  The approval in her voice made him recall the words he’d just spoken to Ross. A good man only did things for the right reason, never to please others. It sent a wave of guilt and shame crashing down on him.

  “I was no more kind to the boy than I was to your own children,” he said as his jaw tightened painfully from the pressure of his taut cheek muscles.

  “It’s not just that you were kind to Ross, it’s the fact that you acknowledged his presence by commenting on his riding skills.”

  Ewan knew she was right, but she didn’t understand that shame had been the reason he’d expressed interest in the boy. Shame, and a deep regret, that it had taken him so long to realize the injustice he’d done the boy. Publicly acknowledging another man’s son as his own had been a conscious choice. Even though he'd made the decision under duress and self-interest, he'd openly accepted Ross as his son.

  Privately, from the first moment he'd seen the lad, he had wanted nothing to do with Ross. What he'd failed to realize was that he didn’t have to love the child, but the boy deserved nothing less than kindness from him. Perhaps the most shameful of all was that he understood what it was like not to be loved by a parent. That he’d inflicted a similar punishment on the boy shamed him the most. He shook his head.

  “Didn’t you see his face, Ewan?” Palms pressed into the desktop, Louisa leaned over the desk. “Didn’t you see how much your words meant to him?”

  “Damn it, Louisa, I’ll not be chastised about the boy or anything else in my own house.” His chair crashed backwards to the floor as he stood up and leaned toward her until he could breathe in the warm fragrance of her. Oblivious to his anger, she didn’t retreat, she simply glared at him with righteous indignation.

  “Well someone needs to say something, because until now, I don’t think anyone’s had the wherewithal to call you out on the topic.”

  “A topic that isn’t your concern,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “As his governess, it is my concern.” Louisa’s voice held a defiant note as she glared at him. “All he wants is to be loved, Ewan. He wants to be loved so desperately.”

  “You clearly don’t understand what a boundary is, Louisa,” he snarled.

  With an angry noise of frustration, he lost his head and did the only thing he could think of at the moment to silence her. Her eyes widened as his hand curled around the nape of her neck then tugged her close so his mouth could taste the heat of hers.

  A small sound of surprise vibrated against his lips as he kissed her hard. In the back of his head, he heard shouts of warnings, but ignored them as he experienced the first hot taste of her. Sweet and succulent as a summer strawberry, her lips singed his in a way that cautioned him to release her.

  The warning went unheeded as he plundered her mouth as a man who’d just found a forbidden treasure. Beneath his kilt, his cock hardened and jutted outward in a silent demand for satisfaction. The soft murmur whispering out of her gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth until it mated with hers. The sugary confection they’d had for dessert still lingered in her mouth, and he couldn’t remember a tablet tasting any sweeter than it did at this precise moment.

  The scent of roses filled his nostrils with every breath he took. It was an aroma he knew he would recognize even in the dark. Until now, she’d been passive against the assault of her mouth, but with a quiet mewl of pleasure, her tongue hesitantly twirled around his. With each passing second, her response grew until it was an uncontrolled, heated response that fired his blood.

  Every stroke of her tongue against his made his cock throb. It was an unfulfilled ache he’d only experienced in the dark when dreaming of her or remembering her beautiful lush curves. He wanted to explore every inch of her with his hands and mouth until he’d committed all of her to memory. Desire pounded against his body as the need to drag her off to his bed surged through him.

  The thought pierced the red haze of desire engulfing him, and he jerked away from her. Her hazel eyes fluttered open, and his heart slammed into his chest at the desire flaring in her gaze. Christ Jesus, what the fuck was he thinking to kiss her like that. A knot formed in his throat as he retreated from her completely. Determined to avoid something like this ever happening again, he narrowed his gaze at her.

  “As I indicated earlier, if you continue to act as if you were mistress of Argaty House then I’ll assume you’re willing to perform all the duties that accompany the role.”

  For a moment, she stared at him with a mixture of mortification and disbelief. The impact her expression had on him was no different than if someone had landed a hard blow to his stomach. A split-second later, anger flushed her sweet face. If he’d thought she would retreat, he’d been wrong. The woman was hopping mad, and he knew Louisa Morehouse well enough by now to know she wasn’t about to let him have the last word.

  “You kissed me, you arrogant beast. And I am most certainly not trying to act like the mistress of your house,” she snapped. “I’ve become quite attached to your son, and the least you can—”

  Louisa froze in mid-sentence as her eyes widened and her gaze focused on the wall behind him. Despite knowing he wouldn’t see anything, he instinctively looked over his shoulder to confirm the fact. When he faced her again, he saw pain and guilt cross Louisa’s features as the color drained from her face. She quickly averted her gaze from his, but not before he saw tears shimmering in her lovely eyes. Certain the an dara sealladh had shown her something, he moved quickly around the desk to catch her if she were to faint.

  “What is it lass? What did you see?” he asked quietly as he touched her arm. She immediately jumped away while keeping her head turned so he could only see her profile.

  “The past. I saw the past.” The words were less than a whisper as he saw her fingers brush across the cheek she kept half-hidden from him. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I’ll bid you goodnight.”

  Before he could stop her, she spun away from him and hurried toward the door. He started to follow, but she was gone before he was halfway across the room. Whatever she’d seen, it had raised memories of a painful past. The emotions he’d seen on her face just now, were the same as those he’d seen the night he’d asked if she’d driven her man to drink. He returned to his chair and sank down into the smooth wood seat as he continued to stare at the door Louisa had closed behind her.

  What in the name of all the saints had he been thinking to kiss her? Ewan hit the arm of his chair with his fist. With a groan of self-disgust, he closed his only eye as he remembered how he’d tried to silence her with a kiss. Even now the sweet hot taste of her lingered on his lips.

  He’d seriously miscalculated the depth of his desire for Louisa. A snort of contemptuous laughter escaped him. It hadn’t been an error, it had been nothing short of denial. Every time he was near her, he’d convinced himself to believe his attraction nothing more than the length of time he’d been without a woman. His refusal to admit the truth had brought him to the brink of insanity.

  Christ Jesus, it was far worse than insanity. That kiss had only increased his desire for her. It made him want much more than another taste of her lips. No, he wanted the woman in his bed, and that was madness. He needed to stay as far away from Louisa Morehouse as possible.

  Another groan escaped him the instant he admitted that action would likely prove to be a futile effort. Even if he tried to keep his distance, he had no doubt Louisa would make it difficult for him to do so.

  § § §

  Louisa swayed as she closed the door of Ewan’s study behind her. Asadi
, sitting in his usual place outside the door, was on his feet in a flash of movement to hold her steady.

  “You are ill, Morehouse sahibah?” At the concern in the young man’s voice Louisa shook her head. She patted the young man’s hand on her arm in a reassuring manner.

  “I’ll be fine, Asadi. I’m simply tired.”

  “I will walk you to your room.”

  “There’s no need to—”

  “I will take you.” Asadi’s face had assumed an expression that said she wasn’t to argue with him.

  “I think you’ve been working for the earl too long. You’ve acquired his stubbornness,” she murmured with irony at the idea anyone could be as obstinate as her.

  “Argaty sahib would want me to do this.” The determined note in his voice made Louisa acquiesce with a nod.

  The sorrow and shame consuming her was making her queasy, and it was impossible not to be grateful for the young man’s insistence to walk her back to her room. Caleb’s appearance in Ewan’s study and subsequent condemnation of her behavior, had shaken her to the core. Eager to put off the inevitable reckoning as to her flaws and self-recrimination, she glanced at the boy beside her.

  “How long have you been with the earl, Asadi?”

  “I cared for Argaty sahib at hospital. He needed help without his arm.”

  “That was very kind of you.”

  “I owe Argaty sahib my life. He gave his arm to save me.”

  The awed reverence in Asadi’s voice, made her flinch. Dear God, how could she have been so blind? She’d misjudged Ewan so terribly. Unwilling to ask for any further details for fear she would cry in front of the child, she simply nodded her head and didn’t probe any further.

  One hand cupping her elbow, Asadi guided her down the hall as they walked in silence. When they reached her room, Louisa hesitated at the doorway afraid of being alone with only the past to haunt her. Asadi opened the door, and when she didn’t move, he gently nudged her forward.

  “Selkirk sahibah will make tea for you, and I will bring it.”

  “No, thank you. I'll be fine."

  With a small smile at the boy, Louisa turned away and entered her bedroom. Still feeling wobbly on her feet, she pressed her back into the solid wood door for support as it snapped shut. Eyes closed in regret, she shuddered at her behavior in Ewan’s study. Caleb had been right to berate her so harshly when he’d appeared to her. She’d misjudged Ewan terribly. In her self-righteousness, she’d tried, judged, and convicted him without knowing the truth. Her brother’s words floated through her head.

  “The boy isn’t his, Louisa. Do not repeat the past and judge him as quickly as you did Devin.”

  A tear threatened to escape from beneath a closed eyelid, and she released a soft sob of regret and self-recrimination.

  “They were words you needed to hear, little sister.”

  The affectionate childhood endearment echoed gently in the air around her as her brother’s translucent, shadowy outline materialized in front of her.

  “I know,” she choked out. “I had no right to judge him. I’m the one who should be judged.”

  “You’re the only one judging your words and actions, Louisa.”

  “How can I not?” She raised her hands in a violent gesture of denial. “I told him I wished he was dead.”

  “Do you think you’re the only one who has ever said things in the heat of anger? Words that can never be taken back?”

  “No,” she whispered as she admitted the real truth. “It’s more than that.”

  Her sin wasn’t just in the words she’d said the night Devin died. It was the realization that her love for Devin had been no deeper than his. She’d failed to love him in the same way she’d always wanted to be loved. They’d been content, even happy, but deep inside she’d always known there had been something missing.

  Their marriage had lacked the deep, loving bond she’d wanted so desperately. She’d dismissed her desire for such a profound connection as nothing more than a foolish woman’s romantic notions. The expectation of wanting something more from Devin had always made her feel ungrateful in the face of the contentment they’d shared.

  Even now, she still wondered if she were being too selfish to have wanted more from Devin. Although she’d always been overjoyed her siblings had found love in their lives, she’d never admitted until now how envious she’d been of their happiness. The memory of Sebastian confessing he would never keep a secret from Helen had made her heart weep that she and Devin had not shared the same trust and commitment. She closed her eyes as tears pushed against her eyelids.

  “He loved you, Louisa. He loved you very much, but even he would admit it wasn’t in the way you wanted or deserved to be loved.”

  Caleb’s quiet words made her draw in a sharp breath as she realized her brother had seen deep into her heart. Her chest tightened painfully as an invisible caress brushed over her cheek to wipe away a teardrop that had escaped to roll down her cheek.

  “Sebastian has always been your rock and loved you dearly in spite of your faults, Louisa. Everyone has, but of all of us, you know I’m the one who understood you best, little sister.”

  At the gentleness in her brother’s voice, the tears she’d been holding back blurred her vision as they rolled down her cheeks. Her sobs echoed softly in the room as she struggled to forgive herself for all her faults. An invisible caress brushed across her cheek and ended with a gentle tug on her ear. Startled, Louisa gasped at the touch. It was the same caress Devin had always used when she’d been repentant for something she’d said or done. It had been a loving acceptance of her apology, as well as a gesture of understanding for her impulsive, rash manner.

  “Devin?” she whispered.

  Her gaze searched the room for his shadow, but she was alone. Even her brother’s shimmering image had vanished. The only response to her small cry was silence. With a sob, she stumbled her way to the bed and sank down into the mattress. A soft creak filled the air, and tears still coursing down her cheeks, Louisa turned her head toward the noise.

  Dusk had settled on the moors, and the shadows filling the room seemed to move on their own in front of her teary-eyed vision. Overwhelmed with remorse and sorrow, Louisa sank deeper into the bed and continued to sob. In her grief, she failed see the shadow moving stealthily along the wall and through the secret door Robert the Bruce had once fled through.

  Chapter 9

  Louisa accepted McCallum’s hand as she descended from the carriage. Once she was standing on the drive in front of the keep, the Scotsman moved to the back of the carriage to retrieve the purchases made in the village. As she shook out her skirts, the boys tumbled rambunctiously out of the vehicle behind her. Their boisterous laughter had not stopped the entire time they’d been away from the keep. Ross’s behavior was as cheerful as her sons, and she marveled at the difference in him from their first meeting.

  While the child could still be quite solemn, he smiled and laughed frequently. McCallum looked in the boys’ direction and arched his eyebrow at her as he handed her the packages she’d purchased. The twinkle in the man’s eye made her laugh as she accepted her packages and walked into the main hall of the keep followed by the boys. Their trip to the village had been a great success. The boys had managed to find small presents for each other while ensuring they remained a secret. She’d been pleased to find something appropriate for everyone. She’d even purchased a present for the dowager countess, although why she’d done so eluded her.

  The woman’s vitriol was poisonous, and Louisa took great measure to keep herself and the boys away from the woman. She knew Patience and Constance would chide her for being uncharitable, but her sisters hadn’t been subjected to the dowager’s cold manner or arrogant dictates.

  Since taking on the role of governess to Ross, the woman had summoned Louisa to her chambers almost daily to demand the boys refrain from making so much noise. She’d even suggested Louisa had her eye on her son and his title. With a look of
disdain, the countess had informed Louisa that an impoverished widow with two children should refrain from aspiring to marrying an earl.

  In her role as Lady Westbrook, she would never have allowed the woman’s insult to go unanswered, but as Mrs. Morehouse, she’d known to bite her tongue. It had taken a strength of willpower she never knew she possessed not to inform the woman they were social equals. Instead, Louisa had clenched her teeth until her face ached to keep from telling the woman what a soulless creature she was.

  The dowager countess seemed to know it was a struggle for Louisa to bite her tongue whenever the two of them met. She was certain it was the reason for the malicious smile that always accompanied the woman's insults. The boys skirted her as they ran into Argaty Keep’s imposing hall. Their laughter echoed loudly beneath the high ceiling, and memory of the countess’s complaints about the boys’ boisterous behavior made her wince. Wills was trying to grab a toy horse Charlie held over his head, while Ross was bent over in laughter. She frowned and expelled a breath of exasperation.

  “Charlie, stop—”

  “Stop this noise, immediately.” Lady Argaty’s words echoed in the hall with a cold ferocity that made the boys jerk around to face the dowager’s cold anger in silent apprehension. “I will not stand for this kind of ruffian behavior in my house. Is that understood?”

  All three of the children slowly nodded their heads, but Louisa caught the glint of anger in Charlie’s eyes. Alarmed her son might say or do something reckless, she attempted to head off any such possibility.

  “Let's go upstairs, boys,” she said in a gentle voice. “Quietly.”

  Charlie appeared ready to protest as he frowned and glared at the dowager before looking back at Louisa. With a small shake of her head, she met her son’s gaze in silent warning. Disgust darkened Charlie’s features, but he didn’t argue. The boys began to climb the stairs, and Louisa moved to follow them.

  “Mrs. Morehouse, you may join me in the parlor.”

  The woman’s imperious command made Louisa stiffen with irritation, but she tipped her head at the woman in a sign of acquiescence. She called Charlie back to her and handed him the parcels in her arms with instructions for him to place them in her room. As the boys hurried up the steps, Louisa turned toward the parlor with a sigh of resignation.