Sleepless in Scotland (9 page)

Caitlyn gave a faintly hysterical laugh. “Triona, please do not be nice to me right now! I have made such a mull of things. If I could take it back—” A sob choked the rest of the sentence, and she covered her face with her hands.

“Caitlyn, don’t!” Triona crossed the room to kneel beside her sister, pulling out her handkerchief. “Stop worrying, you goose. When MacLean comes this morning, I shall tell him I won’t have him. No one can make me marry if I don’t wish it.”

Caitlyn dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. “Yes, you must!”

“Nonsense. I don’t care if I’m ruined. I have no wish for a London season, anyway.”

“It’s not that simple, Triona. Word would spread, and it would get back to Wythburn. People will turn from you and talk behind your back. You have no idea how mortifying that would be! People will be so cruel to you and say such horrid things and—Oh, Triona, you mustn’t let that happen!”

Aunt Lavinia cleared her throat. “You know, my dear, perhaps if you knew a bit more about your prospective husband, it might make things easier for you to accept. Caitlyn, what do you know about Hugh MacLean from his brother?”

Caitlyn bit her lip. “Well…Hugh looks like his older brother, a bit broader in the shoulders, if not so tall. And he smiles far less often.”

“He has a sense of humor,” Triona said absently. “It’s just very dry.” The few times he’d smiled had sent an astonishingly warm thrill up her spine.

Caitlyn said, “Perhaps he’s like Alexander, who doesn’t smile in public often, but in private laughs frequently.”

Aunt Lavinia frowned. “When did you meet him in private?”

Caitlyn colored. “Just once or twice.” She looked at Triona. “There are alcoves in many ballrooms, hidden by draperies and potted plants. They allow one to rest away from the noise and heat and—”

“Caitlyn!” Aunt Lavinia choked out. “People use those for assignations, and you should not have been in one of them at all! Lud, you’ll be the death of me. When your mother and father find out about all that’s happened…” She reached for her smelling salts. “Here I thought you were properly chaperoned, and you were meeting
privately
with MacLean all along!”

“Not very often!” Caitlyn returned hotly.

Triona regarded her sister narrowly. “Why meet him at all?”

Caitlyn’s expression grew guarded. “No particular reason.” Her voice was just a touch too casual.

Aunt Lavinia waved the smelling salts under her nose. “I am just glad you gave up your wild plan to stow away in that silly coach. You’d have been ruined, just like Triona!”

Caitlyn winced. “Had I known Triona would get involved, I never would have planned it. I didn’t mean for anyone to get into trouble.”

“Except yourself and Alexander MacLean,” Triona pointed out. “Cait, you
do
know that if you had managed to win that proposal from MacLean, you could easily have ended up in the same situation I’m in right now.”

“No, no! I was very careful about things, which is why I decided to abandon my plan to slip into his carriage.”

“I wish you’d let Aunt Lavinia know that.”

Caitlyn grimaced. “So do I. Triona, I vow to you that I was not going to risk my reputation. I was going to make
certain
no one knew about it but him.”

Triona lifted her brows.

Caitlyn pressed her hands over her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that!” She dropped her hands to her lap. “It was foolish of me to believe I could do such a thing without causing a scandal. I see that now. But at the time, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“If things hadn’t gone as you’d planned and you’d ended up married to MacLean, he would have hated you for it and your marriage would have been a misery.” Which was exactly what she was facing herself.

“I know,” Caitlyn said quietly. “But when I came to London and met Alexander, I couldn’t help myself. Grandmama has been telling us about the MacLean curse all our lives, and I wanted to see it in action. Not a scary amount, just enough to know that it was true. Like last night—I could
feel
Hugh’s anger.” She shivered.

Triona remembered how the wind had made the building shudder, threatened the windows, and made the shutters bang furiously.
This is the man I’m supposed to marry?
She shivered, too.

Caitlyn’s gaze locked on Triona. “Now you know why I have been teasing Alexander, although
he
thinks I’m merely flirting with him. I’d been trying for weeks to engage him in a wager he would lose, so that he’d be vexed enough to lose his temper. But he kept winning, which made him gloat horridly instead.”

Triona frowned. “Caitlyn, when you were wagering Lord MacLean, what were the stakes? You have no funds.”

She shrugged. “It was perfectly innocent.”

“Thank goodness,” Aunt Lavinia said.

“All we wagered were a few kisses.”

“Kisses!”
Aunt Lavinia shrieked.

“Well, there was a little more than kisses, but only once—” At Aunt Lavinia’s moan, Caitlyn hurried to add, “After that, we went directly to the wager you know about: whether or not I could force him to propose.” She scowled. “I had everything perfectly laid out, too. I was to hide in the seat box and then come out when he changed the horses at the first stage. He’d have to admit that I’d won the wager, then.”

Aunt Lavinia blinked. “And…would you have married him?”

“As if I’d have a braggart like that for a husband!” Caitlyn scoffed.

“What if you were genuinely ruined?” Triona asked.

Caitlyn grew serious. “I didn’t think that could happen until last night, when I saw Uncle Bedford with Hugh MacLean. I wish you hadn’t come to London to save me.”

“It’s too late now.” Aunt Lavinia fanned herself with her handkerchief. “Leave things to your uncle Bedford. Hugh MacLean should arrive—” She glanced at the clock and frowned. “He should have been here ten minutes ago. Your uncle will not be pleased he’s late.”

Triona came to her feet once more, resuming her pacing. “This is outrageous! I barely know the man!”

“Oh, child, I’m sure that once you and Lord Hugh marry, you’ll find some commonalities and be quite satisfied. I barely knew your uncle Bedford before he proposed, and I have grown quite fond of him over the years.” Aunt Lavinia smiled. “I couldn’t have asked for a more gentle and kind husband. I was quite fortunate and you may be as well.”

“What if we discover instead that we hate one another? That he hates the way I use my fork, or the fact that I’m a little grumpy in the mornings—”

“A little?” Caitlyn murmured, rolling her eyes.

Triona glared at her sister before turning back to Aunt Lavinia. “Worse, what if there is something seriously wrong with his character? Perhaps he’s a-a thief! Or kicks dogs, or hates living in the country? What if”—cold clutched at her heart—“what if he’s in love with another woman?”

“He’s not in love with anyone,” Aunt Lavinia said with assurance. “If he were, I would know. Every time he and his brother so much as look at a woman, people talk. Hugh MacLean tends to avoid eligible females, and has made it plain he has no plans of ever marrying.”

“Lovely. He’s averse to marriage in general.”

“As are you,” Caitlyn pointed out fairly.

“I am not! I am in favor of marriage, just not this one and not under these circumstances!”

In the past, when she’d thought of marriage, it had been to wish for a relationship like her parents’. Mother and Father were supremely happy; it showed in the way they looked at each other, as well as the pride they took in sharing their lives with each other.

Aunt Lavinia said in a buoyant voice, “Yes, well, I’m sure Hugh MacLean will welcome marriage now.”

“Oh, yes. Being forced to do something is such a pleasant way to change one’s mind about it.” Triona rubbed her forehead. “And what little I know of him—that he eschews eligible women and possesses a temper that could blow away an inn—indicates that he’d be a horrid husband.”

Caitlyn frowned. “I’ve never heard anyone speak ill of him.”

“Nor I,” Aunt Lavinia agreed. “Indeed, the only negative talk I’ve ever heard toward Hugh MacLean is about his illegitimate children. They say there are scores.”

“Scores?” Triona asked weakly, sinking back onto the settee.

“Not
scores.” Caitlyn shot a dark look at her aunt.

Aunt Lavinia shrugged. “I’m sure people are merely exaggerating. There cannot be as many as people say, for the man can’t be old enough to have more than five or six. Unless there were twins, or if he was seeing more than one woman at a time, which I suppose is possible.”

She finally caught Triona’s panicked gaze. “Oh my dear, look on the bright side!” Aunt Lavinia said in a cheery voice. “They say he quite lavishes his children with affection, and spends scads on their well-being.”

“So?”

“So,
he must have excellent funding! Your uncle will of course discover more, but it is a very good indication that you will not want for pin money, or have a cold house because there isn’t enough coal.”

“So all we know about Hugh MacLean is that his financial situation is unclear, he has an unknown number of illegitimate children, and the family curse is true. I’ve caught quite a prize!”

Aunt Lavinia wrinkled her nose. “Do not look at it that way. Surely—”

“Pardon me, my lady,” intoned the butler. “Lord Hugh MacLean to see Miss Caitriona Hurst.”

Chapter 7

“Och, me dearies! Most men are worth the trouble when all’s said and done, fer we all need challenges to keep us sharp.”

O
LD
W
OMAN
N
ORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER’S NIGHT

T
riona sprang to her feet, hands fisted at her sides, her face hot.

He came to see me, not my uncle.
Triona found that reassuring. Her thundering heart slowed a mite, and she managed to catch her breath.

Aunt Lavinia looked perplexed. “Bedford is waiting for Lord Hugh. Why is he coming here, I wond—”

Hugh’s large form filled the doorway. Impeccably dressed in formal morning wear, his dark blue coat perfectly molded across his broad shoulders, his cravat a masterpiece of complication, he entered the sitting room and bowed.

Regarding him from beneath her lashes, Triona suddenly found herself unable to breathe. In the carriage and the inn, the dim light had hidden many things about Hugh MacLean.

The bright light from the windows played over his dark hair and caressed his strong jaw. Worse, it turned his green eyes to a deeper, mossier color that held her in place, unable to utter a single word.

The white lock that ran back from one temple shimmered silver, as if pulsing with power. His mouth, which he’d pressed on hers so indecently the night before, was thinned with displeasure, but it was the look in his eyes that gave her the greatest pause. He appeared stern and darkly angry, his emotions held in thin check.

Memories of the wind from last night made her shiver.

Aunt Lavinia began to push herself from her chair.

“Please,” he said, his voice as rich and warm as melted butter. “Do not rise. I merely came to speak to Miss Hurst.”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t believe we have anything to say to one another.”

His dark gaze flickered over her, reminding her suddenly of the way her bones had melted in his embrace, before he glanced indifferently at her aunt. “Madam, I would like to ask for a few moments alone with your niece.”

Aunt Lavinia shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure I sh—”

Caitlyn grasped her aunt’s arm and tugged the older woman to her feet. “Of course we’ll leave Lord Hugh to speak with Triona.” Caitlyn herded her aunt to the door.

“I cannot leave them alone; it would be
improper
!”

“Nonsense—Triona is already ruined.” Caitlyn tugged her aunt out into the hall. “She can’t get more ruined by a few moments alone with the man now.”

“Yes, but your uncle Bedford—”

“Can attend them very soon.” Caitlyn turned back and said in a breathless voice, “I can only promise you a few minutes. Once Uncle Bedford is informed that you’re here…”

MacLean’s gaze never left Triona. “Thank you.”

Caitlyn nodded. “I’ll do what I can to keep them away.” She closed the door behind her, her voice raised as she assured Aunt Lavinia that it was perfectly proper to allow Lord Hugh some time alone with “his intended.”

Triona’s mind was occupied with a startling realization. In all the years since Caitlyn had come into her beauty, few people—especially men—ever paid Triona the slightest heed whenever her twin was about. Yet for some reason, Caitlyn’s beauty had little effect on Hugh MacLean. He seemed far more disposed to look at
her
than Caitlyn, even when they were in the same room.

Triona rather liked that, and the realization calmed her nerves as nothing else this morning had. He might be supporting a houseful of illegitimate children and cursed with a storm temper to boot, but at least he
saw
her—and that was something.

Hugh crossed his arms over his chest. “I would rather we talk alone before this progresses any further.”

“I would rather never talk about it at all, but it appears I must.”

His lips quirked. “I feel the same, but your uncle will not rest until we’ve had many conversations—preferably over a breakfast table as man and wife.”

“I’m certain that once some time has passed, no one will even remember this silly incident occurred and—”

Hugh reached into his pocket and handed a folded page to Triona. “This morning’s
Post
.”

Her heart sinking, Triona opened the paper.

An elopement scotched, or foul play? Last night, Miss H—, niece to Lord and Lady G—and sister of Miss C. H—, left London in the company of Lord H. McL—. Rumors of an abduction have been flying, especially since Lord and Lady G—raced off to rescue their wayward niece—