The Beastly Earl

by Monica Burns

  “I’d not go so far as to call you sullen, Ewan, but you have become somewhat of a hermit,” Ethan said quietly. “This is the first time we’ve been to the Keep since your return from the Sudan a year ago.”

  “I was gone a long time. I’ve been busy with estate matters.” At Ewan’s response, Lady Argaty sniffed with derisive amusement but remained silent.

  “So busy you forgot old friends?” Ethan asked.

  At the quiet rebuke, Ewan’s hand froze in midair. Slowly, he laid the fork speared with a piece of venison on his plate. Angry tension rolled off of him, as he pinned an icy glare on his childhood friend. Beneath his anger, Louisa sensed a deep pain and despair in him. It made her heart ache.

  “People change. If you find fault with my company or the meal, you do not have to stay.” Ewan’s sharp reply, made Ethan raise his eyebrows in astonishment as he eyed his companions with a perplexed expression. Seated on Ewan’s left and directly across from Louisa, Iain released a chuckle of amusement.

  “I highly doubt Ethan will leave the table without a piece of Mrs. Selkirk’s Dundee cake, Ewan.” Iain shook his head. “Don’t you remember the time he stole one of Mrs. Selkirk’s cakes fresh out of her oven? We ate like kings that day out on the moor.”

  For a moment, Louisa thought Ewan might not answer his childhood friend, but the dark, forbidding expression on his face slowly ebbed away before he nodded. He relaxed back into his chair as a small smile twisted his mouth.

  “I remember,” Ewan said gruffly.

  When he didn’t say anything else, Iain looked across the table at Louisa. Open admiration on his handsome features, Iain Drummond smiled at her.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Morehouse. How did a woman as lovely as you come to be in the employ of the surly master of Argaty Keep?”

  “Ewan found her out on the moor in the middle of a storm. Although how she came to be there is a wild tale, indeed.” Disdain plainly visible on her face, the dowager countess eyed Louisa with acerbic disapproval.

  “Wild tale, Mother?” There was a dark edge to Ewan’s words as he narrowed his gaze at the silver-haired woman. The note of steel in his voice seemed to be a veiled warning for his mother to guard her words. It warmed Louisa's heart to think he'd been subtly defending her in the face of his mother’s open hostility.

  “A broken down wagon, an injured driver, and a runaway horse? Reckless behavior for a mature woman now employed to care for your child.”

  Malicious amusement filled the woman's voice. The manner in which she emphasized her reference to Ross made Ewan grow rigid in his chair. Fury rolled off of him, and his rage was a tangible sensation racing over Louisa's skin. Despite the strength of his wrath, he looked as if he was dealing with a bothersome bug.

  But his blue-gray eye was dark with virulent hostility as he studied his mother seated at the opposite end of the table. The silent exchange between the two made Louisa wince at how dull-witted she’d been not to realize Lady Argaty would know Ross wasn’t Ewan’s son.

  When he didn't reply to her comment, Ewan's mother shifted her attention to Louisa. Venomous glee reflected in her smile, the dowager's disbelief as to Louisa's story was unmistakably obvious.

  “Quite the adventure, wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Morehouse?”

  “A most unpleasant one, my lady. I’m fortunate Lord Argaty found me, or I would have died that night,” Louisa said through clenched teeth. The only pleasure the woman seemed to find in life was to criticize and humiliate others with her viper tongue.

  “The moors at night are no longer safe for man, woman, or beast,” Iain said grimly. At his friend’s comment, Ewan’s forehead creased in a frown as he set his wine glass back on the table.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You’ve not heard what happened to Rhona MacLaren?” Iain arched his eyebrows in surprise before his features became dark and grim. “Her body was discovered on the moor just off the Doune Road yesterday. I’ll spare the ladies the lurid details, but her death had to have been an agonizing one.”

  The instant Iain’s words filtered their way into her consciousness, Louisa’s stomach lurched in a sickening manner as she remembered the woman’s screams from her vision. In the next breath, she knew who was responsible. The boy. The an dara sealladh had shown her enough to convince her the boy was responsible for the girl’s murder. But how was that possible?

  The memory of the child mutilating the rabbit tried to force its way into her head, but she pushed it back into the grave it had risen from. Nothing about her visions made sense. How could a small child murder an adult? The more important question was whether she should tell Ewan what she'd seen. In the next breath she realized there was nothing to tell. If she couldn’t make sense of the an dara sealladh, it would do little good to share her visions with Ewan. Beside her, Bryce cleared his throat.

  “Rhona’s death was remarkably similar to the manner in which Maggie Graham was murdered.” The troubled note in Bryce’s voice emphasized the worried look on his face.

  “Wallace Graham’s youngest daughter, Maggie? Murdered?” There was a stunned note of disbelief in Ewan’s voice that made Bryce bob his head.

  “That’s right. I forgot. It happened a month or two before you returned from the Sudan. Graham’s oldest son found her body in almost the exact same spot they found Rhona.” Bryce frowned. “Maggie was a sweet girl. They never found the ba—the man who killed her.”

  “There were no suspects at all?”

  Ewan’s battle-scarred features had become grim and forbidding as he stared down the length of the table to where his mother sat. All the color had drained from the dowager’s face, although her features revealed nothing but concern. At her reaction, Louisa noticed how Ewan's eye narrowed as he studied his mother.

  “Constable MacPherson couldn’t find any evidence leading to a suspect in the village, and he was forced to attribute Rhona's death to a vagrant just like Maggie Graham.”

  “A vagrant with blood lust.” Ewan’s dark scowl emphasized his harsh tone as he met his mother’s gaze.

  Beneath her son’s steely glare, the woman’s eyes widened with fear as her stoic expression of concern crumpled slightly. Something unspoken passed between the two, and Louisa's stomach lurched at the possibility they might know something about the murders. Just as quickly as the thought filled her head, she dismissed it. Ewan hadn't even been in Scotland when the first woman had been killed.

  There was also the an dara sealladh to consider. Her visions had shown her too much to even think Ewan might be involved in the murders. Fingers trembling, Louisa reached for her goblet of wine and drank a deep draught of the alcohol. At the end of the table, the dowager countess’s features became tight with displeasure.

  “Gentlemen, this topic is quite unsuitable in mixed company. Mrs. Morehouse is looking decidedly ill,” Lady Argaty snapped. Immediately, Ewan bent his head toward Louisa.

  "Are you all right?"

  The soft question eased the fear spiraling through her. The silent question in his blue-gray eye as he studied her asked if she wanted him to take her away from the prying eyes of everyone at the table. The deep understanding she saw reflected in his gaze took her breath away. Devin had always been concerned when the an dara sealladh fell on her, but not once had he ever shown the depth of understanding she saw in Ewan's gaze.

  The moment her hand moved to touch Ewan's arm in a gesture of reassurance she stopped herself. Instead she shook her head to deny she needed to leave the room. At the small movement of her hand, something flashed in Ewan's gaze. It was an indecipherable emotion that made her wish she'd not stopped herself from touching him. With a jerk, Ewan pulled away from her and leaned back in his chair.

  His sharp retreat and unreadable expression made Louisa wonder if she'd imagined the understanding reflected in his gaze seconds ago. Dismay swept through her, as she tried to silently express her regret. Ewan's expression remained unreadable as he arched his eyebrow at her.

&n
bsp; In the next breath his gaze softened as he appeared to accept her unspoken apology. Relief made Louisa drag in a sharp breath as she forced a smile to her lips and turned toward Ewan’s friends and cousin to acknowledge their concern. Insisting she was fine, her gaze shifted toward the countess. The older woman’s face had regained some of its color, but the woman's eyes were still dark with apprehension as she looked at Ewan.

  Like her son, the dowager countess's stoic expression was difficult to read. Whatever or whomever the woman feared, Louisa knew the source of her fear couldn't be Ewan. Their acrimonious verbal exchanges were evidence enough the woman didn't fear her son.

  “Our deepest apologies, Lady Argaty, Mrs. Morehouse. There are far more interesting topics to discuss.” Ethan smiled at Louisa. “Personally, I’d like to hear more about Mrs. Morehouse’s adventure.”

  “Lady Argaty’s brief description of the events is accurate. I was on my way to Callendar, when the wagon that had been sent for me hit a hole in the road.” Louisa’s gaze drifted down the table in the dowager’s direction. The woman’s blatant skepticism was not unexpected, but no less irritating. “The accident resulted in my driver suffering a serious blow to the head and a broken wagon axel. My intentions were to ride to Doune Castle for help, but my horse threw me when lightning made him bolt. Fortunately, Lord Argaty found me several hours later.”

  “Callendar?”

  The curiosity in Iain Drummond’s voice made Louisa’s heart skip a beat. Although she’d never met the three men until tonight, Aunt Matilda was a familiar name in the counties surrounding Callendar Abby. Anxious to avoid any questions that might reveal her true identity, Louisa smiled flirtatiously at the man.

  Beside her, a soft sound escaped Ewan. The sudden tension radiating off of him surprised her, and she glanced in his direction. The muscles in his unblemished cheek were taut with irritation, but he didn’t look in her direction as he took another bite of venison.

  “I was on my way to the Abbey for a position, but Lord Argaty convinced me to remain here as his son’s governess.”

  “I convinced you?” The mockery in Ewan’s voice sent a wave of heat rising in Louisa’s cheeks as she looked at him.

  Eyebrows arched, he cocked his head slightly to one side as a soft snort of what might have been amusement escaped him. Face still burning, Louisa quickly looked away. Beside her, Bryce chuckled.

  “Well, regardless of who convinced whom that you remain at Argaty Keep, it affords me the pleasure of asking you to ride with me tomorrow.”

  A barely perceptible growl whispered in her ears at Bryce’s invitation. Her gaze flitted toward Ewan whose features had hardened into a façade of granite. Warmed by the thought he disapproved of her riding with his cousin, she shook her head as she declined Bryce’s invitation.

  “I’m afraid I must refuse,” she said with a smile. “My days are quite full.”

  “Surely, you could take an hour out of your day to go riding.” Bryce said with a smile. “My cousin cannot be that harsh of a taskmaster.”

  “Perhaps she’d enjoy someone else’s company, such as mine, Bryce.” Iain laughed at the glare his friend gave him. “Come, Mrs. Morehouse, tell us the truth? Which one of us would you rather go riding with?”

  “I would like an answer as well.” Ethan eyed her with an appreciative grin. “My company is far more pleasant than these two scoundrels.”

  “I’m flattered by your invitations, but I cannot accept,” Louisa said firmly.

  “Surely Mrs. Morehouse is entitled to some free time, Ewan." A derisive smile on her lips Lady Argaty eyed her son with mockery. "You shouldn’t make her feel as though she should refuse the pleasure of your cousin or friends company.”

  Confused by the woman's approval of the invitations the three men had extended to her, Louisa frowned in puzzlement. When the dowager had invited her to dine with them earlier, Louisa had been too startled to politely decline. It wasn’t simply an unusual request socially, but Lady Argaty had made it quite clear how much she disliked Louisa. The woman’s dinner invitation had been bewildering enough, but this sudden interest in her social life was baffling.

  Uncertain as to why the woman was encouraging the three men in their efforts to persuade Louisa to ride with them, Louisa’s gaze flitted between mother and son. Ewan appeared unfazed by his mother's smile of poisonous amusement, but Louisa saw a muscle in his face twitch. As his gaze met the dowager's across the length of the table, his eye darkened with contempt and distaste. His scornful look reinforced the depth of the discord between the two.

  “Lou—Mrs. Morehouse has a horse at her disposal and may ride whenever and with whomever she wishes.”

  A look of boredom crossed Ewan's face, as he shrugged his shoulders. Louisa flinched at his nonchalant manner. The wall of indifference he displayed cut deep. Had she misread the understanding in his gaze moments ago? Had she mistaken his defense of her at his mother's barbed comments for nothing more than a demand the woman be polite?

  Even his quiet growl of displeasure a moment ago could have been nothing more than the belief she might neglect her duties. And his reaction to the dowager’s veiled questioning of Louisa’s suitability as a governess could have been merely irritation that his mother was challenging his decision.

  “The least you could do is tell Mrs. Morehouse we’re a harmless bunch, Ewan.” There was a challenge in Bryce’s voice as he watched Ewan take another bite of venison.

  “Harmless?” Ewan choked out of the side of his mouth. Whether with amusement or irritation she couldn’t tell which. “I think that’s a matter of debate. However, as I said, Mrs. Morehouse doesn’t need my permission to ride.”

  “There you have it, Mrs. Morehouse,” Bryce said with a triumphant grin. “The exalted Lord of Argaty Keep has granted you permission to accept my invitation.”

  “Your invitation?” Iain’s eyebrows shot upward in annoyance.

  “I do recall asking her first.” Bryce’s cheerful, yet arrogant response, reminded Louisa of a recent rebellion within the ranks of her younger charges. Fingers splayed as she raised her hand, Louisa released a breath of exasperation.

  “Gentlemen, please. While your invitations are truly flattering, I am not being coy in my refusal.” Louisa eyed each of the men in quick succession. “My days are quite full, and however much I might regret doing so, I am unable to accept.”

  The look of dejection on their faces reminded Louisa of the look Wills often displayed when she’d refused to let him do something. Still chafing from her efforts to dissuade her would-be suitors, Louisa released a soft breath of aggravation. Ewan was listening to something Iain had said, and she tried to ward off the disappointment his detached manner aroused in her.

  Half-heartedly listening to the dinner conversation, she took a bite of the rumbledethumps on her plate. It had become one of her favorite dishes Mrs. Selkirk made, but at the moment, it tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Beside her, Ewan made a barely discernible sound, and she jerked her head in his direction.

  The blue-gray gaze meeting hers was filled with a warmth that made her heart skip a beat. She’d not been mistaken after all. Suddenly his gaze became heated with a desire that sent a shiver down her spine. It was the same look he'd had after their race this afternoon when he'd kissed her so passionately. Fire raced across her skin at the memory, and her heart beat with the same wild rhythm it had earlier.

  The small smile touching his sensual mouth made her certain he was remembering the passion that had flared between them. In the next breath, a possessive look crossed his face. The air was dragged from her lungs as his gaze convinced her that he was thinking about her audacious admission of desire just before Wills had interrupted their conversation.

  His expression had been one of stunned amazement before a dangerous and exciting look had swept across his rugged, battled-scarred face. It had made her wish they'd been alone so she could experience the heat of his touch again. Cheeks burning, she quickly averted h
er gaze.

  It had been one of the most reckless things she'd ever done to openly declare her wanton feelings. It had been an impetuous moment, but everything about Ewan make her feel reckless and free of any constraints. Even the camaraderie between them as they'd decorated the tree in the main hall had been one of comfortable familiarity. Everything about this afternoon had been so easy between them.

  There was something natural, even familiar, about the way he made her feel whether he was kissing her, teasing her, or silently conveying how much he enjoyed her company. It made her happier than she'd been in a long time. Her heart stopped briefly before it started to thud again at a much faster pace.

  If all it took was one look from the Earl of Argaty to make her happy she was in deep waters. The man was dangerous to her senses, especially when she was already halfway in love with him. The thought caused a soft, sharp gasp to escape her. She glanced in Ewan's direction, and her heart skipped a beat as he eyed her with concern.

  In the next instant, his gaze narrowed as if her expression had revealed her thoughts, and he knew what she was thinking. Alarmed by the possibility, she quickly looked away from him. The water she was treading now was deeper than the lake at the Abbey. Although she knew Sebastian would advise her not to do anything reckless, deep inside she knew she was about to tread where even angels feared to venture.

  Chapter 12

  For the third time, Louisa stopped brushing her hair as she tried to remember the number of strokes she was at. Blowing out a breath of disgust at her inability to count without losing track, she dropped the brush onto the vanity. The day had left her with so many questions. Dread had accompanied all of them, leaving her with an unsettled feeling.

  While mentally reviewing the dinner conversation as she’d changed into her nightgown, she’d questioned her certainty that the murdered village girl was the one she'd heard scream in her vision. Despite challenging herself on the matter, her intuition insisted it was the murdered girl she'd heard scream during the an dara sealladh. Lady Argaty’s reaction to Iain’s news about the murdered girl had piqued Louisa’s curiosity as well. The woman’s pallor had revealed how badly shaken the news had disturbed her.