My Highland Rogue Read online

  Nor had he inquired as to his wife’s health in the past eight months. If Ellen hadn’t gone to London to get him, would Harrison have even come home? She had the sinking feeling that he wouldn’t have bothered. Perhaps he would have sent some type of gift to Lauren, a string of pearls to mark the occasion, but little else.

  Gordon had once said that Harrison was the epitome of a perfectly selfish person. She’d always tried to find something about her brother to admire, but he’d been making it more and more difficult in the past few years.

  “You need to come and see the baby.”

  “Why? She won’t know I’m there. Babies aren’t real people until they’re six or seven or so.”

  How had he made that judgment?

  “Lauren will know. You need to see her, too. Pretend you’re married, Harrison, just for a few minutes. Surely you can do that.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Has being a spinster turned you into a harpy, Jennifer?”

  “Is it being a harpy to remind you of your duty?”

  “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?”

  Jennifer didn’t bother answering him. He’d evidently been drinking steadily ever since he’d arrived. Harrison, inebriated, was even more irksome than Harrison, sober.

  She was turning to leave when he spoke again. “I got rid of him. The gardener’s boy. I told him to get out.”

  “Yes, I know. Or did you think someone wouldn’t tell me? I know most of what happens at Adaire Hall. Unlike you. You had no right to ask Gordon to leave. He was a guest.”

  “You’ve always been a fool about him, Jennifer. He knows that. He takes advantage of it.”

  “How exactly has he taken advantage of it, Harrison? I invited him to stay at the Hall. He didn’t ask. Nor did he expect it.”

  Harrison only waved his hand in the air. “This is my home and I won’t have him here.”

  “It’s only your home when you remember. It’s my home, too, Harrison. Who do you think manages Adaire Hall while you’re off in London?”

  She left before he could respond. The less she saw of her brother, the better.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was nearly dawn by the time Jennifer got to sleep. She woke only four hours later, her thoughts on Gordon. She realized she was smiling, the sensation so unusual that she pressed her fingers against her lips. How long had it been since she was this happy? Five years. Five long years.

  She sat up, then swung her legs over the side of the mattress. The hours just after dawn were the most productive for her. She liked to get a start before most of the inhabitants of the Hall were up and about. She had time to plan her day before any of the normal complications arose.

  Now, however, all she could think about was Gordon. They were going to be married.

  She dressed while still smiling. She even laughed at herself in the mirror. Happiness made her pretty. Her cheeks were pink. Her eyes sparkled.

  She knew exactly what she had to do today, all of it written out on a list she had made the month before. Her habit of making lists, keeping a calendar, and scheduling every task was how she managed everything to be done at Adaire Hall.

  Today, however, it didn’t matter how much she had to do. She didn’t care. She would do every single item on her list with a smile on her face and with a warm swelling joy in her heart. She hadn’t felt like this in years—as if happiness was making her buoyant.

  The only drawback to her happiness was Sean’s health. She wished she could somehow pray enough that he’d be magically healed, but God made those decisions, not her.

  She couldn’t wait to marry Gordon. She didn’t want a large wedding. Nor did she want a ceremony that would take ages to plan. All she wanted was to be Gordon’s wife, to start their lives together.

  Instead of eating breakfast, she grabbed some oatcakes and wrapped them in a napkin. At the cottage she tapped lightly on the door.

  Gordon opened the door. Although it was obvious that neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before, the sight of him made her heart expand.

  She offered him the oatcakes. “You haven’t had time to come to the house for breakfast.”

  “I doubt if I would have been welcomed,” he said, taking the napkin from her.

  “If Harrison behaves as he always has, he won’t wake until noon.”

  “Thank you. I think Sally will have her hands full caring for Sean today.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Sean’s illness took a little luster from her happiness.

  Gordon reached out and enfolded her in a one-armed hug. “I know you are. No one could have done more to help him. I thank you for that, Jennifer.”

  She hugged him back and walked inside the cottage, sitting at the table with him. When he offered her one of the oatcakes, she shook her head. Happiness had taken away her appetite. It was enough for her to be here with him, close enough to reach out and touch his arm, to see him smile and make quick work of his small breakfast.

  The oatcakes gone, Gordon folded the napkin and handed it back to her.

  “Do we have to wait?” she asked. “I know the circumstances, but couldn’t we have a small wedding? Here, in the cottage, so that Sean could see?”

  “I don’t want a hole-and-corner affair, Jennifer. When I marry you, I want it with all the villagers and every person who works at Adaire Hall to witness it.”

  Warmth swept through her.

  He leaned over and kissed her gently. She placed her hand on his cheek, feeling his early-morning whiskers. Just think, she would be able to see him whenever she woke. He would be part of each day. She would be able to tell him what had transpired, people she’d met, things she thought. He would be part of her life and she had missed that for five years.

  Sean’s door opened and Sally came out, carrying a basin. Gordon stood and helped her with it, placing it on the counter.

  “How is he?” Jennifer asked.

  Sally shook her head. “Last night was bad. I hope he can get some sleep today.”

  Was she selfish by wanting to wed now?

  Gordon walked her to the door.

  “I’ll stay with Sean for a little while.”

  She understood. “I’ll send a note to our minister,” she said. “If you’re sure you haven’t changed your mind?”

  He hugged her again. She really didn’t want to leave him, but she had other duties to attend to today, and he needed to be with Sean.

  When she returned to the Hall, Ellen was eating her breakfast in the dining room.

  Jennifer joined her, and for a while Ellen wanted to discuss the latest fashions she’d seen in London. Although Jennifer didn’t have any interest in fashion, her godmother had an amusing opinion on everything. In addition, she was a font of knowledge on almost any subject.

  “You’re like a walking library,” Jennifer had told her once.

  Ellen had laughed. “What a compliment, my dear Jennifer, and very prettily said. Thank you.”

  Today was no different as Ellen recounted tales of her adventures in selecting a new wardrobe. After the maid took away Ellen’s dishes, her godmother sat back in the chair and smiled at her.

  “Tell me all about Gordon,” Ellen said. “Does he really own the Mayfair Club?”

  Jennifer nodded. “As well as two music halls.”

  “How interesting. And he used to live here?”

  “I’ve mentioned him before.”

  “Yes, you have,” Ellen said, “but you left out a great many details. For example, how handsome he was or that he was quite an overpowering personage.”

  “Overpowering?”

  “There are people you meet who give off a certain quality,” Ellen said. “I’m not entirely sure I can explain what it is. They are either more ambitious or talented, but whatever it is, it’s not that they’re better than the rest of us. It’s simply that they’re different.” She looked at Jennifer sharply. “I’ve never met anyone who’s less a gardener’s boy than Gordon McDonnell.”

 
“He’s always been his own person,” Jennifer said.

  “Now that doesn’t surprise me,” Ellen said. “It’s quite daunting how he looks at you. I don’t believe I’ve ever had a man look at me that way. Not even my darling Colin.”

  Jennifer didn’t know what to say.

  “Oh, it’s not a bad thing,” Ellen continued. “But I do believe that anyone who tried to come between you and him would suffer a terrible fate.”

  Jennifer couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve always adored him. After mother died, Mr. McBain sent him away.”

  “That man was a prude in many ways. I never liked him. I don’t think your mother did, either. However, your father’s will assigned him as guardian, so we were stuck with him.”

  That was a surprise. No one had ever offered up any criticism of Mr. McBain. To most people he was a paragon of virtue.

  “What about now? Your Gordon has returned.”

  “His father is ill.”

  “Is that the only reason he’s here? Do you still adore him?”

  Jennifer smiled.

  “Never mind, I have my answer from your face. I know he feels the same just from the way he looks at you.”

  “Yes, he does,” Jennifer said, feeling her face warm. “He’s asked me to marry him.”

  “Like hell you’ll marry the bastard.”

  They looked up to see Harrison leaning against the doorjamb. Her brother was wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before, now badly wrinkled. His white shirt was stained in two spots, and his hair disheveled as if he’d threaded his fingers through it many times. Lines of dissipation were already beginning to show on his reddened face. The wrinkles around his bloodshot eyes belonged to a man several decades older.

  The odor of alcohol wafted off Harrison so strongly that it was nauseating.

  “I’ll be damned if you marry McDonnell,” he said. “You’re not going to shame the family like that.”

  “You’ve done your share of shaming the Adaire name, Harrison. Besides, you have no say in who I marry.”

  “I’m the head of the family, Jennifer.”

  There was more than one way to marry in Scotland. If necessary, she and Gordon could simply stand before witnesses and declare their wish to be man and wife. Harrison could do nothing to stop it.

  Jennifer stood and looked at Ellen.

  “Forgive me, Ellen,” she said. “I’ve just remembered some urgent tasks that need to be done.”

  When she got to the door, Harrison didn’t budge.

  “I mean it, Jennifer. I won’t have you marry that bastard.”

  “You don’t have anything to say about it.”

  When he still didn’t move, she shoved him out of the way.

  Behind her, she heard Ellen address her brother.

  “Must you always be so boorish, Harrison?”

  She didn’t stay to hear Harrison’s response.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Would you like me to fetch you some tea?” Sally asked.

  “I’ll make it,” Gordon said. “You don’t need another duty.”

  She smiled at him, gratitude in her expression. He joined her in the kitchen, watching as she made Sean a cup of tea, putting some whiskey in it.

  “Have you been caring for him long, Sally?”

  “Two months now.” She looked toward Sean’s door and then leaned closer to Gordon. “Poor man, he’s been so ill. I don’t think it will be long now.”

  “No,” he softly said. “I think you’re right.” He took the cup from her. “Why don’t you go and get some air. I’ll take this to him.”

  “Are you sure? He’s been in and out for a while now. Sometimes, he doesn’t know who people are.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll go and sit with him.”

  “Well . . .” She looked toward the window and the encroaching sunlight like freedom beckoned.

  “Go,” he said.

  She left the cottage with an eagerness he completely understood. If he could be quit of this place, he would, but responsibility held him here. Or perhaps it was honor. Or maybe the love a young boy had once felt for his father.

  Sean was lying straight in his bed, the covers folded and tucked neatly beneath his arms. His pose and pallor were reminiscent of a man being laid out for his funeral.

  Since he’d returned, he and Sean hadn’t talked about Betty. Sean hadn’t said anything about him missing her funeral. It was as if Betty had simply vanished from not only their daily lives, but their history together.

  Sean looked to have fallen into an uneasy doze. Gordon was content to sit there for as long as necessary. If Sean was asleep, then at least he’d been given a respite from pain.

  He and Jennifer were going to be married. He was filled with plans. He wanted to show her everything he’d built and introduce her to everyone who’d helped make his music halls a success—Maggie, the other people who filled his daily life. He hoped she liked his house, but if she didn’t, he’d buy another. Jennifer would never lack for anything. Nor would she ever regret marrying him.

  He couldn’t give her a title, but he could give her a home the equal of Adaire Hall. He’d build a house for her on the land he’d purchased in Scotland. She could tell the architect to design it however she wished. Whatever Jennifer wanted, he was going to ensure she received.

  His life would finally be exactly how he wanted it, shared with the woman of his dreams. He and Jennifer would never be apart. He couldn’t wait to spend his life with her, to ask her advice, or to listen to what she thought of people they met.

  Sean moaned, the sound bringing him back to the present. Gordon reached over and covered his father’s hand. Sean’s eyes fluttered open, blinked up at the ceiling, then slowly he turned his head. His eyes were dull and there was no recognition there.

  “It’s Gordon, Da.”

  Sean’s eyes closed again.

  “I have a cuppa here, with some whiskey. If you like, I can help you sit up so that you can drink it.”

  Sean didn’t acknowledge his words. Nor did he speak.

  Gordon continued to sit there, watching his father.

  He’d never sat a deathbed vigil, but he knew that this was what it was. Now was not the time for recriminations or even questions. Instead, silence was the best recourse.

  He wished that it was easier for Sean, that the end could have been swift and merciful. Instead, it was evident that Sean was in agony.

  Even though he wished it, he couldn’t magically erase Sean’s pain. All he could do was be the best son he could be. Perhaps Sean didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t a judgment he needed to make. All he had to do was to be here, at this moment, and ensure that Sean had everything he needed.

  A few minutes later his father opened his eyes again. He blinked up at the ceiling before looking around the room. Finally, his gaze settled on Gordon.

  “Boy.”

  Gordon could ruin a man by calling in his debts. A number of the peerage owed their current prosperous trappings to loans he’d given them. He employed over three hundred people in various positions. Yet Sean still called him boy.

  Somehow, he managed to smile back at his father.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Instead of answering him, Sean made a sound in the back of his throat before saying, “You should have stayed gone.”

  Once Sean’s words would have affected him. Yet he’d had years to acquire a thick skin as well as an understanding of human nature. Sean knew he was dying. His anger would have been directed to anyone in this situation. Gordon was only a convenient whipping boy.

  “If you hadn’t come back, everything would’ve been fine. There would be no need for it all to come out.”

  He didn’t understand what his father was saying, but credited it to the laudanum.

  “Why don’t you drink your tea? Sally put some whiskey in it.”

  “If you’d only stayed away, everything would have been fine. Why did you even come back?”

  “B
ecause Jennifer wrote that you were ill. I thought it would be the right thing to do.”

  “You didn’t come back because of me. I was just an excuse.”

  That comment had enough truth in it that Gordon remained silent.

  “It’s because of her that it has to come out, all of it. All of the secrets.”

  “Leave Jennifer out of this, Da. She doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

  “Go away. Just go away. If you go away now, it might be all right. Promise me you’ll leave now.”

  Nothing had changed since that night five years ago when Sean was eager to banish him from Adaire Hall because McBain and Harrison wanted it.

  Not once had his father put up an objection.

  McBain, Harrison, and Sean had stood on the steps of Adaire Hall as the carriage rolled beneath the oaks, cleared the gates, then made it up the hill. At the top he looked back to find them still watching, like he was a rabid dog they were afraid might return.

  The anger rolled in from the past, anchoring itself beneath Gordon’s breastbone.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Maybe once you could throw me out of the Hall, but not now.”

  Sean didn’t answer.

  “I could buy and sell this place a hundred times over, but I still wouldn’t be good enough for you, would I?”

  Sean closed his eyes. “It’s the girl. You still want her, don’t you?”

  “Hell, yes. When I leave here, Jennifer is coming with me. She and I are going to be married.”

  “You can’t have her.”

  “Why, because I’m not good enough for an Adaire?”

  “No, because she’s your sister.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Did you hear me?”

  Yes, he’d heard. The words didn’t make any sense, however, unless Sean was hallucinating. Laudanum had that effect on some people.

  He understood that. He was willing to accept any kind of behavior in this situation. However, telling him that he and Jennifer were related? That seemed more bizarre than a simple hallucination.

  Did Death have a face? It was there in that room. He could almost see it superimposed over Sean’s features. Pain lingered in his eyes, the set of his mouth, and the tense muscles of his neck.