Her Scottish Groom (25 page)

He kissed her cheek. “You look very well this afternoon.”

“I took advantage of the empty house to spend some time on the terrace.”

“I’m sorry, do you feel terribly hounded?” He took the seat next to her daybed.

“Not at all. If any of the more encroaching guests stop by, I simply feign a bad turn.”

He chuckled at the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She patted his hand. “Never mind, my dear. Nearly everyone who has visited me commends Diantha’s skill as a hostess. Once that piece of gossip makes the rounds, she will be much in demand
next Season.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Unless she is occupied with more
domestic
matters.”

Kieran helped himself to a scone. “You are quite as bad as Iona and Mrs. Quinn.”

She straightened against the pillows at her back. “And why not? You are nearly thirty. Surely it cannot be a lack of attraction between the two of you.”

Kieran choked on his tea. Once the pain caused by the hot liquid in his nostrils receded, he glared at his parent. “Mother! That is a highly improper speculation.”

She sniffed. “Pooh.”

He escaped shortly after that, torn between exasperation and amusement. His amusement abated as he rounded the corner to the corridor leading to the best bedchambers. A series of muffled thumps greeted him. Sprinting, he reached the room the noise came from and wrenched the door open.

And jumped aside as Thomas Quinn erupted into the hall and landed on the crimson runner carpeting the floor. Blood oozed from a split lip. Colin, the footman, stood in the doorway panting and nursing the skinned knuckles on his right hand.

Kieran peered past the servant. A maid sat crumpled on Thomas’s bed, cap askew as she wept. That and the torn dress gaping open from her neck to her waist told Kieran all he needed to know.

“I’ll have your job for that, you insolent bastard!” Thomas, having climbed to his feet, bellowed the words as he flew toward the footman, hand raised to strike.

He staggered backward as Kieran’s fist drove into his solar plexus. Thrown the width of the corridor,
he slammed into an occasional table and collapsed against it, gasping for air.

The noise brought observers. Kieran found himself the cynosure of the rest of his wife’s family. Diantha hurried to his side from the opposite end of the hall, followed by Iona and Barclay.

“What is the meaning of this? Thomas, are you all right?” Mrs. Quinn pushed forward to inspect her son.

Catching his wife’s eye, Kieran jerked his head toward Thomas’s chamber. She took one look inside, shooed Colin out and entered, shutting the door behind her.

“That scum attacked me.” Thomas spat the words out as he pointed a shaking finger at the footman. “I want him dismissed. Now.”

Colin broke his silence. “I did naught but lairn the muckle feardie not tae lay hands on a poor lass.” Kieran crossed his arms and stared the younger man down. “The only thing that is going to happen now is that you are going to wait until your sister can ascertain how badly you hurt that girl.” He did not bother to hide his contempt.

Mrs. Quinn drew herself up. “Lord Rossburn, you cannot mean that you would take the gibberish of an ignorant menial over the word of a gentleman.” “On the contrary, I’m taking the word of the only gentleman involved in your son’s disagreement.” He turned to the servant and grasped his shoulder. “Brawly done, my lad.”

While the Americans stared in confusion, the footman relaxed. “Thank you, my lord. It’s Gaira Wallace, we grew up together.”

His father-in-law blustered. “This is an outrage!
No doubt the girl threw herself at my boy. Pay her off and haul this miscreant to jail.”

Diantha emerged in time to hear her father. Her face paled, but she remained composed. “On the contrary, Papa. Tom tried to force himself on the poor girl and would have succeeded had Colin not intervened.”

Her mother’s narrow face contorted. “Diantha! She’s a servant, for heaven’s sake.”

“And that makes Tom’s action somehow acceptable?”

Quinn’s face took on an ugly red hue. “By God, Rossburn, we’ll see what the authorities have to say about this.”

Despite the serious situation, Diantha bit her lip to prevent a smile.

Kieran twitched his cuffs into place. “This is Scotland, Quinn. I
am
the local authority.” He nodded to the grinning footman. “I think this calls for a bonus, Colin. Now get downstairs and have someone look at those knuckles.”

With a tug of his forelock, the servant took himself away. Kieran fixed his gaze on his furious brother-in-law. “I ought to turn you over to the courts and request transportation for you.”

Mrs. Quinn turned to her daughter. “How can you permit him to speak to us so? Have you no proper feeling for your own family?”

Diantha stepped past Kieran and planted herself in front of her mother. “After you invite yourself to my home and accost my servants?” Her voice shook. “The only reason I am not ordering you to leave at once is because doing so would worsen the scandal Tom created.”

“You do not give orders to me, my girl.” Mrs. Quinn’s hand whipped out to slap her daughter, hard.

Kieran pulled Diantha back against him. Keeping one arm around his trembling wife, he gripped the older woman’s wrist until she cried out.

“I suggest you exercise some self-restraint, madam.” Or he’d kill the bitch before he let her strike Diantha again.

Like every other bully he’d come across, Mrs. Quinn backed down at the first threat of danger to her person. “No gentleman would think of harming a lady!”

Diantha, large-eyed, slipped to her grandmother’s side.

“I’ve never harmed a lady in my life.”

Mrs. Quinn gasped at the insult and he released her. “I suggest that everyone dress for dinner. I have no intention of putting the meal back for the likes of you.”

Iona had watched the entire scene in silence. Now she stepped forward. “I shall accompany Gaira to Mrs. Menzies and issue an order that no female servant waits upon either of her ladyship’s brothers.”

She gave Diantha a withering glance. “Then Barclay and I shall attempt to curtail the damage you and your dreadful family have caused ours.”

Kieran rounded on his aunt. “By all means do what you can for the poor girl, but if you belittle my wife one more time, you can pack your bags as well.”

Barclay took his mother’s arm. “I say, that’s out-of-bounds!”

“What is out-of-bounds is the stream of insults
Diantha has suffered from all of you under her own roof.” He glared at everyone impersonally. “The matter is now closed.”

“Go get dressed, Granny. I have some things to attend to.” Diantha made her way toward her room. Her unsteady voice alarmed him, but he stared down the others until they retreated to their rooms.

Only Mrs. Helford remained, her habitual vigor extinguished. One hand clutched the door frame for support. “This is all my fault,” she whispered.

Kieran helped her into her room and onto a chaise. He sat down at her side. “How can you be to blame here?”

The old woman pressed her fingertips to her eyes. “Don’t you understand? I failed my daughter, and she failed hers.” A sob escaped her.

Kieran rather desperately wanted to go to Diantha, but he could not turn his back on her grandmother. He tried to think of comforting words. “I do not see any of you in your daughter’s nature.”

Tears slipped down the wrinkled cheeks and she sought her handkerchief. “No, you see her father.” To his relief, some color returned to her face. “Although he could be charming in public, my husband was a beast. Amalthea was our only child, and he alternately praised and intimidated her.

“I wanted to protect her but my husband beat me when I tried to interfere.” She pressed the laceedged square of white lawn to her lips. “I was too cowardly to protect my own child. Needless to say, Mally handled her children the same way her father treated her.”

Kieran patted her shoulder as she dried her eyes. “I’m sorry. You must have been terrified for years.”

“Did Diantha ever tell you she tried to run away before the wedding?”

Stunned, he shook his head. His wife disliked him that much?

Mrs. Helford sighed. “She bribed a servant to purchase a train ticket to Boston. When her father and brothers caught her, they found she’d forged her own references to teach French at an academy there.”

A weight settled in his gut. “What did they do to her?”

“Her mother took a dogwhip to her to force her to name her accomplice.” She shuddered. “When that failed to work, her parents locked her in her room and did not let her out alone until the day she married.”

Unable to bear immobility when he wanted to pound her family to a pulp with his bare fists, Kieran pushed himself off the chaise. “How could they do that to their own child?”

“She was never a child in their eyes, only a bargaining chip to be used to their best advantage.” Her mouth twisted. “I tried to make up for my sins by providing her with the affection they should have given her.”

Kieran paused before the old woman. “You succeeded in that much, ma’am, I assure you.”

She shrugged, a barely discernable lift of her shoulders. “I supported her marriage to you because I hoped it would take her far away from that house.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I hope I was right.”

Under the intensity of her silent plea, he retreated to the bellpull and tugged. “Do you feel well
enough to remain alone until your maid comes? I should go to Diantha.”

He left before she finished nodding yes.

A bitter smile twisted his lips as he strode through toward Diantha’s chamber. He hadn’t the least idea what to say to her.
I know you don’t want me, but I’ll look after you anyway
sounded as if he’d adopted a stray dog.

She deserved a true husband, one who did not have infidelity in his blood.

He realized he stood before her door and still did not know what he could say or do that would offer her comfort. He had to try, though.

She replied as soon as he tapped on the wooden panel. “Come in.”

He squared his shoulders and entered.

She sat at her dressing table. Her glance flickered to his reflection in the mirror, then back to her swollen cheek. “I don’t know how I’m going to hide this at dinner.”

“Never mind dinner.” He approached her gingerly, prepared for tears. “May I?”

She allowed him to turn her about on the chair until she faced him. A livid, hand-shaped welt rose on her fair skin. His throat closed. “Oh love, I’m so sorry.”

“For what? You’re the one who stopped her.” A half-smile faltered on the undamaged side of her face. “Luckily I don’t bruise easily.”

He eased her to her feet and into his arms. He stroked her hair as he murmured, “For everything. For ruining your life with a marriage you didn’t want. For not telling your family to go to the devil when
they sent that arrogant telegram. For permitting Iona to run roughshod over you.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, unmoving. Then she took a deep breath. “You’re not the man I thought you were.”

Kieran swallowed. He deserved no better, but the assessment still hurt. “I know, but perhaps we can come to some arrangement where you would not have to see me—”

Her finger against his lips stopped him. “You don’t understand. I thought this marriage would be hopeless. It’s not. You don’t tell me what I must do or say or wear. This house party proves that we can work together when we need to.”

She touched her cheek. “You stopped Mama from hitting me. Even Granny could never accomplish that.”

Then she sighed. “Speaking of the house party, I must find a way to cover this up. Florette is bringing ice, but I’m not sure it will work quickly enough.”

“I shall tell our guests you’re indisposed.”

She nibbled her lip, an expression of longing on her face. “An evening alone sounds tempting.”

“Then turn around. I’ll unfasten your stays and you can crawl into bed. MacAdam can send up a tray.”

“Kieran, I did mean an evening alone. By myself.” She regarded him anxiously. “My face hurts and I truly have a wretched headache.”

He brushed her mouth with his. “That is exactly what I meant, my dear. With a houseful of guests, one of us has to appear at dinner.”

He freed her from her corset and even helped
her with her nightgown, amused at the idea of helping his wife
into
her garments.

When Florette arrived, bearing a bowl of ice and a clean towel, she gave a nod of approval. “It is very good, milord. Her ladyship needs a night of quiet. I shall convey to MacAdam the request for a tray and bring it up later.”

“Would you also ask Poole for some of the dowager’s salicin? We always keep a good supply on hand and it will ease her ladyship’s headache.”

He left her to change for dinner, then returned. Diantha drowsed, curled up on her side beneath the sheet. On a chair beside the bed, the ice-filled towel now rested in the bowl in easy reach of her hand.

“Is there anything else I can send for to make you comfortable?”

She lifted her head slightly. “Would you—would you mind brushing my hair?”

Wordlessly, he collected her brush and seated himself on the other side of her bed. She closed her eyes and sighed as he carefully drew the bristles through the long brown strands.

“That feels lovely.” A smile played about her lips. “I thought so the first time you brushed my hair.”

The morning after their wedding, when he’d decided to seduce her. As her shoulders relaxed under his ministrations, he realized that he found the action far more gratifying this time. Perhaps he should brush her hair more often. His cock hardened as he recalled the sensation of warm silk flowing over his skin when they made love.

A soft snore broke the silence. Diantha had fallen asleep.

* * *

He looked in on her again before retiring, expecting that she slept on. Instead she sat up in bed, working on her sketch pad. She closed it and tucked it beside the bed. “I was sound asleep for hours, now I’m wide awake.”

“Have a brandy.” So saying, Kieran slipped into his own chamber and filled two snifters with the amber liquid. He returned, giving one to her.