My Highland Rogue Read online

  Ellen couldn’t help but recall the night she and Harrison had arrived at Adaire Hall, interrupting Jennifer and Gordon at dinner. In that moment, seeing them together, she’d known that Jennifer was in love. Gordon’s five-year absence was the reason why Jennifer sometimes looked inconsolable. His presence brought out the sparkle in her eyes and a rose to her cheeks. Nor had she stopped smiling during the entire dinner. Not only that, but she’d glanced at Gordon often and stretched out her hand toward his, as if she couldn’t bear not touching him.

  Love was not in such abundance in the world that it could afford to be quashed. Nor was she going to allow her daughter to be hurt. She was going to obtain Gordon’s location, and if they had to return to Scotland immediately, that was fine, too. She had unlimited funds at her disposal and time to act as Cupid.

  Therefore, Ellen found herself in front of the Mayfair Club once again. She’d waited until after dinner, when Jennifer had retired to her suite. Then she’d called for her carriage, and she was more than prepared to go to war with Maggie Boyland.

  A few minutes later, she was knocking on the door of the Mayfair Club once again.

  “Good evening, Ellison,” she said, evidently surprising the man who probably hadn’t expected her to learn his name.

  “Ma’am,” Ellison said, bowing slightly.

  “I should like to see Miss Boyland again. Would that be possible?”

  Demands rarely accomplished anything. Sweetness, on the other hand, often accomplished more.

  “I shall not take very much of her time,” she added.

  Ellison opened the door wider, stepped back, and bowed slightly again.

  “If you will remain here, ma’am, I shall inquire.”

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling brightly at the man as she sat at the end of the bench.

  In a flash he was up the stairs.

  She was quite proud of herself. No one looking at her would guess at the level of rage she was hiding at the moment.

  First of all, she was tired. The journey from Edinburgh had been long, difficult, and taxing. Although her dinner had been excellent, she was still hungry. She craved a tray in bed and perhaps a snifter of brandy. After that she fully intended to sleep for a day or two.

  She had reached her quota of emotion. She wanted no more histrionics of any sort, which made her thankful Abigail had stayed in Edinburgh. She wanted things done the way they should be. She was heartily tired of the world running counter to what she thought was right, proper, and just.

  No one should stand between Gordon and Jennifer any longer. They’d both been through too much in the past few years. She certainly wasn’t going to allow Maggie Boyland to be a harpy, when kindness would be just as easy. She didn’t care what kind of resentment Maggie felt for Jennifer; withholding information about Gordon at this point was simply cruel.

  Ellison suddenly appeared in front of her.

  “Miss Boyland only has a few moments, but she’s willing to spare them for you.”

  No doubt Maggie had said those exact words to him. Ellen stood, smiling again.

  “How very kind of her.” Hopefully, Ellison did not hear the sarcasm in her voice.

  He escorted her up the stairs again and down the corridor. This time the door was closed and he knocked three times before they heard Maggie’s voice.

  Ellison opened the door, stepped back, and bowed once more.

  She thanked him again with a smile. With a placid expression firmly in place, she sailed into the office. The minute Ellen closed the door behind her, her smile disappeared. When Maggie stood, Ellen shook her head and waved her back into her chair.

  “Let’s not mince words, shall we? I don’t want any of your hail-fellow-well-met false cheer. Nor will I pretend to be polite and diplomatic.”

  “That would be a welcome change,” Maggie said. “I despise being a hypocrite.”

  “As do I. You know where Gordon is, just as you know when he’s due to return. I want that information. In fact, I insist upon it.”

  Maggie smiled. “Or what? You’ll shout the house down? You’ll get down on the floor and kick your heels?”

  “Yes. Ellison is an excellent porter. He looks large and strong enough to remove any miscreant from the club. No doubt that’s part of his duties. How, though, will he handle the situation with a woman?”

  She smiled brightly. “I know, quite well, how to defend myself. Plus, I have a very wicked-looking hat pin in my reticule. I would hate to have to use it on the poor man, but I shall. I shall also scream. That should summon an audience as well. I will simply refuse to leave. Poor Ellison will have to transport me bodily from here, and that surely won’t do the reputation of the Mayfair Club any good. I’m well-known in London. Or at least in financial circles. You see, my husband was a very wealthy man. His word carried a great deal of weight. As his widow, I have some cachet. Whatever would happen if word got out that I was treated badly by you?”

  She advanced on the desk. “If you care as much about Gordon as I think you do, you wouldn’t allow his reputation to suffer such a fate.”

  Maggie’s lips thinned, a sure sign that her temper was rising. Ellen didn’t care. Besides, it was only fair that Maggie was an enraged as she was.

  “Tell me where Gordon is and when he’s returning.”

  She sat in one of the chairs before the desk and waved Maggie back into her chair.

  “I absolutely refuse to leave until you do. Where is Gordon?”

  “I told you. He’s in Edinburgh.”

  “When is he returning?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because it’s the decent thing to do?”

  Maggie only smiled at her.

  She had an idea, something that had occurred to her after a conversation with Jennifer.

  “Jennifer used to write to Gordon. Every Christmas and every year on his birthday. He never received those letters. Are you aware of that?”

  Maggie looked at her, no expression on her face.

  “I can’t help but wonder if you took those letters, Maggie. Were you so overprotective of Gordon that you intercepted his correspondence?”

  For a moment, Maggie didn’t speak. Finally, she said, “She was intent on ruining his life.”

  “So you did take them.”

  “Someone had to protect him from her.”

  “That wasn’t your decision to make. Now you’re determined not to tell us where Gordon is. Why? For the same reason?”

  “There’s an old adage I learned as a child that eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves.”

  They both turned toward the door. Ellen hadn’t heard it open, and evidently neither had Maggie.

  Gordon stood there. “To answer your question, Mrs. Thornton, I’ve just returned. What can I do for you?”

  Ellen was not going to divulge her history in front of Maggie. She had the impression that the woman used any scraps of information as a weapon.

  “If I may speak to you in private, I have some information that I think would be of interest to you. No, let me rephrase that, Gordon. I think it would change your life.”

  “I’ve had one too many conversations like that recently. I’d prefer not to have another.”

  She stood, walked toward Gordon, grabbed his arm, and pulled him out of the room. With her other hand, she slammed the door shut.

  “You’re not her brother.”

  Gordon blinked at her several times, but didn’t speak.

  “You’re not Jennifer’s brother. Would you care to hear why?”

  He nodded, but surprised her by turning and walking down the corridor, opening a door and stepping aside so that she could enter. There was enough light from the sconces in the hallway that she could see him go to the sideboard and light a gas lamp. This room, too, was an office but a more expansive one than Maggie’s.

  A wall of windows overlooked the street. The curtains hadn’t been closed, and the streetlamps were like golden glowing stars for
ming intricate patterns.

  The desk itself was massive, heavily carved, and a beautiful piece of furniture. Strangely enough, it reminded her of Colin’s desk. She had never been able to get rid of it, or even change his study in any way. This room reminded her of her husband with its shelves filled with well-read books, the brass inkwell, and the leather blotter. There were four stacks of papers across the front of the desk, each topped with a brass paperweight. The carpet beneath her feet was something that reminded her of the Orient, another similarity with Colin’s study.

  Gordon pulled out one of the chairs in front of the desk and she sat, watching as he took the chair opposite. He met her gaze straight on, as if he had nothing to hide. A good sign as far as she was concerned.

  “Do you love Jennifer?” she asked.

  “How I feel about anyone is not your province, Mrs. Thornton. I would prefer to keep my emotions to myself.”

  “While it is very important that I get an answer to that question, Gordon. Do you love Jennifer?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because she’s my daughter.”

  She had to hand it to him. Gordon had evidently learned to school his features. There was nothing in his face or demeanor that indicated that she’d surprised him. Nothing but a quick blink of his eyes. She might’ve missed it if she hadn’t been looking so closely.

  She told him the story of when she’d been a fool for love. He listened intently, not looking away once. He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped between his open knees. Yet he never allowed his gaze to move from her face.

  “So, you see,” Ellen concluded, “you are not related. Even remotely.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat back, his gaze finally moving from her to the windows. He took a deep breath and exhaled it.

  “Where is Jennifer now?”

  “At my house. I have a home here in London.” She withdrew one of her calling cards and, taking the pen from the desk, wrote her address on the back of it.

  “As you can imagine, she was quite disappointed not to find you here. She couldn’t wait to come to you to tell you the news.”

  She handed the card to him, and Gordon only stared at it for a minute.

  “Are you certain, Mrs. Thornton?”

  For the first time in an hour, she smiled with genuine amusement.

  “That I gave birth? Most definitely. That the Earl and Countess of Burfield took Jennifer as their own? Again, most definitely. I could never forget those details, Gordon. Nor would I lie to you. I do have a question for you, however.”

  “Yes, I love her. I’ve always loved her.”

  She smiled as she shook her head. “I’m glad to hear it, but that wasn’t the question. What are you still doing here?”

  He stood, looking down at her. He was a handsome man, but the smile he gave her lit up his eyes. Suddenly, it was like he was radiating light from within.

  “Then, if you’ll pardon me . . .”

  She waved him away. “Go. Go,” she said, watching him leave with a smile.

  Jennifer entered her sitting room, thanking the maid for lighting the lamp here and in her bedroom and for laying the fire. It was going to be a chilly night, the beginning of winter. Still, if she were at Adaire Hall, she wouldn’t have lit the fires quite yet. Nor would she have ever left a gas lamp burning without being attended.

  The fire in the nursery wing had caused a great many changes at Adaire Hall, all of them geared to making the countess feel safer.

  This sitting room, like her chambers in Ellen’s Edinburgh home, had recently been decorated. It seemed to have a theme, if the mural on the far wall was any indication. It depicted the ruins of Rome with a few columns standing, but most broken on the ground. The predominant color reminded her of sand with perhaps a little pink mixed in. The sofa, the two chairs, the curtains in both rooms, and the bedcover were all in that shade with varying patterns.

  Ellen certainly did her part to keep the seamstresses in London busy.

  Jennifer began to pace, creating a path around the sofa, in front of the windows, back to the door, and to the sofa again.

  She should have been more polite to Maggie. She should’ve groveled, if nothing else. Had the man she’d seen in Edinburgh been Gordon? When was he returning? Would Maggie tell her where he was staying? She didn’t mind retracing their steps and leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow if she needed to.

  How was she to bear this? Until two days ago, she’d been miserable, unable to think about anything other than how terrible she felt and how horrible a future without Gordon would be. Then Ellen had told her the truth of her birth and she was overjoyed. The journey from Edinburgh had been endless, but she’d endured it, only to be told that he was no longer in London.

  She wanted to scream.

  She couldn’t even begin to think of readying herself for bed. Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. All she wanted was to find Gordon. She opened the sitting room door and left the room.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Miracles did happen. The refrain stayed with Gordon during the short carriage ride to Ellen’s house. Miracles did happen. For the past weeks he’d been simply existing, doing his best to perform those duties that needed to be done to seem functional and rational to other people. For weeks he’d been living a lie, unable to tolerate the life he’d been given.

  Miracles did happen. His mind replayed Ellen’s words. He could easily see the countess agreeing to take on another woman’s child as her own. Mary Adaire was one of the kindest and most generous women he’d ever known, and she was his mother.

  At Ellen’s door he was greeted by an officious majordomo who insisted on announcing him to Jennifer. He kept his patience with difficulty. At first he thought the man was escorting him outside again before he realized that Jennifer was standing on a terrace at the rear of the house.

  “Lady Jennifer,” the majordomo announced, “Mr. Gordon McDonnell.”

  Jennifer turned, so slowly that it felt like a dream. She was wearing her cloak, probably the same garment she’d worn the last time they met. For a second it was like time was replaying itself.

  He took a few steps toward her.

  In the weeks since he’d seen her, she’d become even more beautiful.

  The faint light from the house illuminated her face, hinted at the color of her eyes, and darkened her hair.

  She didn’t rush to greet him. Nor did she smile. Instead, she stared at him as if she hadn’t seen him for years. Too many years.

  Why the hell hadn’t he rushed back to Scotland for her? Why had he allowed five years to pass before they were together? Pride, that’s why. His foolish, idiotic pride.

  He didn’t have any pride right at the moment.

  “I saw Ellen,” he said.

  “Did you?”

  He nodded.

  She smiled. “I’m a bastard. Isn’t that the most glorious news?”

  A surge of love for her nearly felled him.

  In the next instant, she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

  She was his friend, his companion, the playmate of his childhood, the woman to whom he had confided all his fears and hopes and dreams.

  Ever since Sean’s revelation, he’d thought that he would have to go the rest of his life without her. Now he didn’t. Now it was as if the rain had stopped, and a rainbow stretched across the sky, so accessible that he could reach out and grab the pot of gold at the end.

  His love for her was colored blue, red, and green with sparkling silver and gold threads. It encompassed him, shivered through his body, and touched the hooks in his soul. He held her close, feeling her breathe against him in wonder. She’d been everything for him, and everyone, and for too long a time she’d been forbidden him.

  His life suddenly made sense. All of the worry, the deprivation, the sacrifices he’d made, the sleepless nights, and hours of planning. All of it made sense as his future slipped into place.

&
nbsp; Jennifer made it worthwhile and gave meaning to everything.

  She pulled back and looked up at him.

  “You belong to me, Gordon. I belong to you. I’m not going to let anything else separate us. We’ve gone through so much already. Five long years apart and then this latest horror, believing that we were brother and sister. No more.”

  With that, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him.

  As a child, she’d been fearless in following him. She was always there, right behind him, when he climbed a tree or explored a cave. More than once, he thought he’d led her into danger, but Jennifer refused to be left behind. As she grew, she became more circumspect, the lectures from Mary taking root, but she’d never lost her courage.

  Now she demonstrated it again by grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.

  Although he’d never been to Ellen’s home before, the layout was not substantially different from his own. Jennifer led the way up the back stairs. He stopped before they reached the second-floor landing.

  “Jennifer, what are you doing?”

  “I’m refusing to wait one more moment, Gordon.”

  She was one step above him, and now bent down to kiss him again.

  Heat shot between them, intoxicating and luring. He wanted her as he always had, but where he’d been controlled in the past, he wasn’t sure he could be now.

  It would be simpler, better, and wiser if he left for the night and returned in the morning, when they could discuss their future.

  He got a few words of that explanation out before Jennifer kissed him again.

  “No,” she murmured against his lips. “No.”

  “Jennifer.” Her name was a caution, a restraint.

  “Gordon,” she said, turning the tables on him and enticing him. Her tongue danced against his mouth.

  He’d taught her how to kiss, but now it felt like she was teaching him.

  She broke off the kiss and smiled down at him. “My love. My darling Gordon. Please don’t say no. I won’t live one more day without you. I’m ready for happiness. We had two short days of joy, Gordon. Only two days in the past five years. I want more than that. I want happiness from now until the end of my life.”