Sleepless in Scotland (10 page)

“Good heavens,” she said weakly, sinking back onto the settee. “It’s already all over town.”

Hugh nodded tightly. “There is also a wager listed in the books at White’s.”

Triona pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. She became aware of MacLean’s dark green gaze locked upon her face and she managed a faint smile. “I hope it is a positive wager, at least.”

“Ten to one that I will offer to marry you.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I suppose I should be glad I’m thought so responsible.”

Her heart thudding sickly, Triona forced her numb lips to move. “There is no question of saving my reputation. I-I made the mistake. I will not have you pay for it.”

“Miss Hurst, we
both
made mistakes. You were in that coach out of pure, though naive, motives. I was there not just to protect my brother, but also to exact revenge on your sister for making him the talk of the town. Of the two of us, I am far more at fault.”

Triona pressed her hands to her cheeks. “My lord, there
must
be another solution. Marriage is so…
permanent
.”

His deep laugh washed over her, and she looked at him, surprised.

His green eyes crinkled with genuine amusement, his face completely relaxed for the first time since she’d met him.
What an astonishingly handsome man!
The thought surprised her, and with difficulty she looked away.
Careful! I can’t become muddled in my thinking. Handsome or no, I know nothing of this man but ill.

For a brief moment she wondered what it
would
be like to be married to such a gorgeous man, to see him every morning over the breakfast table, to spend the day strolling on his arm, perhaps taking in an exhibit at the British Museum, and then going home to dinner and—

“Miss Hurst, I must ask you a question.”

His face was still relaxed from laughter, his gaze amused and warm. Just one look made her tingle in the most unexpected places. “What’s that?” she asked in a breathless voice.

MacLean walked toward her and stopped, his knees not quite brushing her skirts as he stood looking down at her. “Are you in love with anyone?”

Triona’s thundering heart moved into her throat as she tilted back her head to look at him. “No. Are you?”

His lips twitched into a half smile that was as sensual as it was fascinating. “No. I’m not.”

She hadn’t realized how important those words would be, but a sliver of pure, unadulterated relief splintered through her.
At least we won’t have to deal with that issue.

“That was my one hesitation.” He sat in the chair nearest her, his movements as fluid as a lion’s, his broad shoulders dwarfing the chair back. “Miss Hurst, let me be plain. I don’t believe in love. I never have.”

Her cheeks heated when she realized she was staring at his muscular legs outlined by his well-fitted breeches, but she couldn’t seem to help it. In all of her life, she’d never met a man who was so
physical
. Good God, she had to stop this. What had he said? Oh, yes.

“You may not believe in love, but I do. My parents love one another very much. Surely yours—” She forced her wandering gaze to lock on his.

“I haven’t expressed myself well. I believe some people are capable of love, but I am not one of them.”

“Why not?”

“My blood doesn’t burn warmly enough for such emotion.”

“Well, that is certainly plain speaking. Unfortunately, I always wished to marry for love. It’s yet another reason we can’t allow this situation to progress.”

He frowned. “I don’t believe you understand the seriousness of your position. That’s not surprising, though, considering you have only your aunt, uncle, and sister to advise you.”

She stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

“However good your aunt’s intentions, I wouldn’t call her understanding strong.”

Triona couldn’t disagree. Even Mother called her sister “silly.” “My aunt has a good heart for all of her faults. Furthermore, my uncle and sister are hardly empty-headed.”

“Your uncle is a pompous ass, and I cannot imagine that he’s taken the time to explain anything to you.”

Triona hadn’t even seen her uncle this morning, for he’d ensconced himself in his library to await Lord Hugh. That he’d done so without bothering to have a single word with her
had
been irksome, but she wasn’t about to inform MacLean of that. “He said enough,” she returned evenly.

MacLean flicked a skeptical brow. “And your sister hasn’t displayed the best grasp of propriety, which is the crux of this issue.”

“Caitlyn is usually not so mannerless, and you have your brother to thank for that. He
wagered
her that she could not wrest a proposal of marriage from him.”

MacLean’s brows snapped together. “Did he, indeed?”

It wasn’t a question, but a wondering comment. “I was surprised, too. I can’t imagine why he’d do such a thing, knowing the possible consequences. Meanwhile, my sister rose to his challenge and threw caution to the wind by publicly announcing—”

Hugh could see the exact moment it dawned on her that her words would confirm all he’d said about her sister’s lack of decorum. Behind her spectacles, Triona’s eyes darkened, her plump lips folded with disapproval.

Hugh smiled grimly. He’d take little satisfaction in winning this argument, but win it he must. “For the moment, let’s leave them out of this. If there were another path I could take to defuse this situation, I would take it, but there’s not.”

Last night, instead of getting some desperately needed rest, he’d been awake most of the night, trying to find a better resolution. With dawn had come the
Morning Post,
and bitter acceptance.

He’d slept then for two hours and had awoken with a pounding head, his stomach refusing food, which was normal after a bout with the family curse. There was a cost for his ability to control the winds. Only once, years ago, had he attempted to halt the curse after it had grown full-blown, and it had almost killed him. He’d vowed never to do that again.

Of course, he’d also vowed years ago never to marry. Long ago, he’d paid dearly for allowing a woman into his life and he’d sworn never to repeat that mistake. Yet here he was, on the verge not only of allowing a woman into his life, but of making her his wife. Life had a cruel sense of irony.

Hugh regarded her from beneath his lashes, her hands clenched into fists, her face pale. She was resolute; every line in her body said so. “Miss Hurst, you have a sister—perhaps more than one?”

She frowned. “I have two. There’s Caitlyn and my youngest sister, Mary.”

“If you care for your sisters and their future, you won’t return home until you are safely wed. If you don’t marry, society will condemn you for what it believes has occurred, and them by association. Your sisters will be whispered about, then cut altogether.”

“But neither of them did anything! Nor did I!”

God, she was lovely, especially when outraged. Her creamy skin flushed, her eyes sparkled behind her stern spectacles. Hugh had to force himself to look away from her just to recall his argument. “Society is a cruel mistress. She condemns by association just as quickly as for actual acts.” He turned his gaze back to her. “You may not care about the whispers, slights, and cuts, but your sisters will, as will the other members of your family.”

She didn’t answer, though her lips thinned.

“And your father’s a vicar,” Hugh continued ruthlessly. “He will not be allowed to keep his living, once all three of his daughters are branded indecent women. Your brothers will be watched, their every move interpreted negatively. Then there is your mother: I can’t imagine she’d deal well with—”

“
Stop!
I-I hadn’t—” She shook her head, staring ahead with unseeing eyes. “It’s so unfair.”

“It’s damnably unfair.”

She slid trembling hands behind her spectacles to cover her eyes. “Surely not. Surely, surely not!”

“Why do you think your uncle is awaiting me in the library? Lord Galloway is determined that you and I sell our freedom to kill the flow of rumor with disinterest.”

She lowered her hands. “Disinterest?”

“There is nothing less interesting than a married couple,” he said dryly.

Triona stared at Hugh, her thoughts whirling. She imagined Father’s disappointed gaze and Mother’s hurt expression if, after years of seeing her daughters as the belles of the village assemblies, they were abruptly cut from the invitation lists and whispered about in public. Neither Father nor Mother had social aspirations; in fact, Aunt Lavinia’s invitation for the season had almost been refused but for Caitlyn’s impassioned pleas. Still, she couldn’t deny the harm a scandal would cause her parents who treasured their family’s reputation.

Triona looked down at her hands, tightly clenched in her lap. What choice did she really have? “Getting married would end all of this?”

“If we announce that yesterday we were on our way to meet my brother to announce our engagement, then yes. We’ll say your nurse didn’t understand the nature of our visit, and that your uncle, once he learned of our errand, not only joined us all later, but blessed the union.”

“Will anyone believe that?”

“Some. By that time we will be married and on our way to the country, and it should become old news very quickly. If we don’t marry, there will be nothing to counteract the rumor and it will grow.”

Triona’s knees ached with the need to run away. She stood and crossed to the window, looking blindly at the garden.

She
didn’t
have any choice. None at all.

Hugh watched her closely. Her expressions were so vivid that he could almost follow her exact thoughts. The sunlight traced her stubborn chin and nose, glinting off her spectacles.

He’d never thought spectacles on a woman attractive, yet on Triona they framed her amazing eyes, enlarging them so that the flecks of gold in the hazel were bright and vivid. His gaze dropped lower to the smooth line of her throat, to the delicate hollows of her neck and shoulders, to the generous swell of her breasts. Damn, she was a warm armful, and he couldn’t stop imagining her beneath him. Perhaps this marriage wouldn’t be all bad, after all. A man’s generosity could only go so far and he’d be damned if he agreed to such a stupendous sacrifice without getting something in return. He was many things, but a mealy-mouthed “gentleman” wasn’t one of them.

She rubbed her arms as if cold. “There is really no more to be said, then. We must marry.”

“I procured a special license this morning so that we can marry in three days’ time.”

“And after that?”

He shrugged. “After that, we’ll go to my house in the country and live as the picture of domestic bliss until the rumors are forgotten. A few months should be long enough for society to forget us.”

She bit her lip, her even teeth capturing her plump bottom lip in a way that made Hugh’s body tighten unexpectedly. “What—” Her husky voice broke and she cleared her throat. “What happens after those months?”

“You may return to your parents’ house and resume your life there, while I continue with mine.”

“But we will be
married
!”

He shrugged. “You will be an honorable woman.”

“But…what if a year from now I meet someone and fall in love?”

“Then you may have an affair. It wouldn’t bother me, providing you are discreet.”

She seemed to choke. “It wouldn’t
bother
you? Not even a
little
?”

“Miss Hurst,” he said impatiently, “you are making far too much of this. I, for one, never wished to marry.”

“No?”

“No. I’m sure you did, for all women do, but we are both required to make sacrifices. Once this is over, so long as we both calmly go our own ways and act discreetly, I see no reason why we can’t both have full and productive lives.”

She appeared astounded. “Do you even
have
a heart?”

“Apparently not.”

She gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “I don’t know whether to pity you, or wish I could be the same.”

“Pray don’t make this an emotional issue,” he replied calmly. “It’s only fair that you know how things stand before we begin.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “MacLean, I know a divorce would be impossible without a public trial and an act of Parliament—”

“And we’d face an even worse scandal than we have now.”

“Yes, but what about an annulment? Surely we could gain one once the rumors have died down.”

“There are only three acceptable grounds for an annulment and every one would cause a scandal equal to the one we face now.”

She took off her spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I wish we could just pretend none of this happened and each go our own way.”

“So do I, but it’s not practical. We must make this look believable or the talk will not stop. Triona, once we embark on this path, we’re committed. You will live with me at Gilmerton Manor in Scotland until the talk dies down, and then you’ll return home and we’ll be as we were before.”

“But married.” She sighed, her breath lifting her breasts against the fabric of her gown.

He watched, riveted. Damn it, what was it about her that had him so on edge? If she so much as moved, he found himself watching her, waiting, wondering…. Ah, perhaps that was it. Soon she would be his, and he would have access to her plump lips, the slope of her white throat, the sensual thrust of her breasts—

“MacLean?” she snapped.

There was no doubt that she’d seen exactly what he’d been staring at. “We are settled then,” he said promptly, his face warm. “I will return on Friday. Have your portmanteau packed and we shall leave alone for the church.”

“Alone? What of my family? We’ll need witnesses.”

“I’m sure the church will provide what is necessary.” He hesitated, then added, “I’d like to keep this information from your aunt and uncle. I have the impression they wouldn’t accept our simple plan.”