To Bed the Bride Page 27

  She’d already decided to return to Scotland, but her aunt’s words had helped firm up the timetable. Perhaps Logan would be harmed by her presence in his house. She didn’t want scandal to touch him. She would leave before he returned from Edinburgh.

  She had her carriage and driver. She had her valises, still packed. All she had to do was write a note to Logan thanking him and Mrs. Campbell for all their kindnesses and comforts these past difficult days.

  The note was easy. Saying goodbye to Mrs. Campbell was much more difficult.

  “And when were you thinking of doing this thing, Miss Eleanor?”

  “I think tomorrow morning would be best.”

  Mrs. Campbell put her hands on her hips and glowered at her. “You can’t be thinking of traveling so far in your condition.”

  “I’m feeling much better, Mrs. Campbell, thanks to you. It’s been a week and I think I should leave.”

  “I’m thinking you should wait until himself gets back. He won’t be happy to find you’ve gone.”

  “It’s really for the best, Mrs. Campbell. Surely you can see that. I’m a single woman. Logan is a single man. It isn’t proper that I’m a guest in his home.”

  “This is England. The English will say whatever they want about the Scots, whatever the circumstances. It doesn’t matter, they’ll find something to gaggle on about. Don’t you worry what anyone says.”

  “I want to go home,” Eleanor said softly. “I truly, truly want to go home.”

  At Hearthmere she felt centered and real. At home she could learn to deal with this pain. Not only from the betrayal by her family, but from saying goodbye to Logan.

  All she needed was the courage to leave.

  The journey home was without incident. Even Bruce had taken to travel, enjoying being able to stick his head out the window and see the passing terrain. Occasionally, he saw a flock of sheep or a few cattle. These always necessitated a few warning barks. Then he would look at her as if waiting for a sign of approval. She always gave it to him, telling him that he was a very good boy.

  The sight of Hearthmere usually calmed her heart, and gave her a warm glow and a feeling of homecoming. Today, for the very first time, she felt a deep and disturbing sadness when looking at her home.

  He wasn’t there. He would never be there. While Hearthmere offered her sanctuary and belonging, it also promised her loneliness. That was the price she had to pay for keeping it intact. She hadn’t realized, however, how very painful it would be.

  At first everyone was surprised to see her, but that response only lasted a few seconds before she was welcomed, ushered into the parlor to be warmed and given some of Cook’s scones.

  “My, the puppy isn’t so little anymore, is he?” Mrs. Willett asked, bending to give Bruce a pat between his ears.

  He wiggled a little, enjoying the unexpected attention.

  “Will you be staying long, Miss Eleanor?” the housekeeper asked.

  “I will. In fact, I shall never leave again.”

  The older woman looked a little startled, but then the expression faded into a smile.

  “You and your husband will be living here, then?”

  “No,” Eleanor said. “I’ve decided not to marry.”

  The housekeeper couldn’t hide her surprise. Most women would not choose spinsterhood over becoming a countess.

  “Can I bring you anything else?”

  Eleanor bit back her smile. The poor woman couldn’t think of anything to say and had fallen back on her role as housekeeper.

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  In a matter of minutes she was alone with a blazing fire, seated in a comfortable chair, an ottoman only inches from her feet. She should rest from the journey. Or look over the ledgers. Go and visit with Mr. Contino. A dozen things needed to be done, each one of them better than sitting here brooding.

  She didn’t move, staring into the flames with Bruce curled into a tight ball at her feet. She’d only been home a little while, yet she missed Logan already. Somehow she was going to have to become familiar with this feeling. Hearthmere and the horses had always been enough to occupy her.

  How strange that they seemed lacking now.

  Chapter Forty

  Logan’s assault on Hearthmere was a frontal one.

  He hadn’t realized that the minute he traveled from Scotland back to London he would be turning around and retracing his steps. If he’d had an inkling that Eleanor was returning to Hearthmere he could have saved himself a great deal of time.

  He took a few minutes to write Mr. Disraeli, informing him as to his future. He sent one of the footmen after Fred, made him privy to the events of the past few days, and had him deliver the note to the former Prime Minister.

  Mrs. Campbell informed him of certain developments, none of which changed his foul mood. He was all for giving William a few days off, but the man insisted on driving him back to Scotland. A change of clothes, a hamper of food, and they were off once more.

  She’d left him. No, she hadn’t left him. She’d returned home. Mrs. Campbell’s obvious eavesdropping had filled in some blanks of Eleanor’s situation. She’d ended her engagement, a fact that had infuriated Herridge and her family. For that reason she’d been a prisoner at the Richardses’ home.

  Of course she wanted to return to Hearthmere, especially given the amorphous nature of their relationship. He hadn’t said anything to her recently about how he felt. In fact, he’d been careful not to reveal his emotions. What had seemed right at the time now seemed foolish.

  The sight of Hearthmere on the horizon made him realize why she loved it. The house nestled in a divot created by a series of rolling, gentle hills. Ben Hagen sat like a sentinel to the rear, overlooking the series of paddocks and fences.

  The gray brick of the house stood out against the fading green of the winter landscape. The building looked as if it had originally been constructed as a sturdy manor house. Over the years two additional wings had been added on either side, yet the architecture wasn’t the same. Nor were the roof lines similar.

  However, the hodgepodge of styles managed to give the effect of a surprisingly charming house. Not as daunting an edifice as the McKnight ancestral home, but a more welcoming one.

  Fences stretched over the glen and up into the hills. Most of the corrals were filled on this early winter day. In a matter of weeks the area would be covered with a fine layer of snow, but Hearthmere had been running for decades. They knew how to take care of their horses in all seasons.

  His heartbeat escalated as they took the last rise toward the house. He had marshaled his arguments both while traveling to Scotland and on the trip back to London. Now he didn’t need to convince Eleanor to break her engagement—she’d done that on her own. All he needed to do was to declare himself.

  He’d been in battle. He’d fought the lesser war of standing for election. Every day in Parliament was a challenge of one form or another. Why, then, did he feel so unsure of this coming meeting?

  Perhaps because nothing else had ever mattered as much.

  Eleanor was in the library going over one of the ledgers when Mrs. Willett arrived.

  “Miss Eleanor, you have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” The last visitor she’d had at Logan’s house had been an unwelcome one. Had one of her relatives followed her to Scotland?

  Bruce stood, ran to the door and disappeared.

  Suddenly, she knew exactly who it was. A moment later she heard his voice as he greeted Bruce. Logan was here. Logan was here. Why was Logan here?

  “It’s the man who brought Bruce,” her housekeeper said. “I recognized him.”

  Eleanor stood and thanked Mrs. Willett, not informing the woman that she knew Logan quite well indeed. The other woman nodded, then melted away in that fashion of hers. It wasn’t fair to wish that Mrs. Willett was more like Mrs. Campbell, but she missed Logan’s housekeeper.

  Should she remain here? She hadn’t told Mrs. Willett to bring Logan to t
he library. All she’d done was stare at the woman. No, she should go and meet him and greet him with a smile. Offer him the hospitality for which Hearthmere was famous.

  Only her feet wouldn’t move.

  Logan was here. Oh, dear. Logan was here. Why was he here? Had he come to lecture her about leaving London before he’d returned? Had he come simply to see how she was faring? That sounded more like him. Logan was here.

  What was she going to do? How was she going to react? What could she possibly say?

  I’ve missed you terribly, much more than I should have, perhaps. The days have been endless without you.

  What would it be like when years had passed before she saw him again?

  Suddenly he was at the door, Bruce beside him. The dog looked like he was grinning because his two favorite people were together again.

  “Hello,” she said, feeling like a fool. It was the only word that passed her lips easily.

  “Hello,” he answered.

  She should ask what he was doing here. She should say something, anything.

  I’ve been missing you.

  Thank you for everything.

  I love you.

  No, she couldn’t say that, could she?

  “You look tired,” she said.

  “I am. I’ve traveled between Scotland and England a bit much lately. Why did you leave?”

  He had always been direct, hadn’t he?

  “It was better.”

  “For whom? You?”

  No, she’d been miserable.

  “For you.”

  She had to point out some not so pleasant facts to Logan.

  “I’m sure that word has gotten out that Michael ended our engagement because of that afternoon in your house. I’m equally certain that your name has been bandied about. I won’t harm your career, Logan. I won’t allow that to happen.”

  “You can’t,” he said, closing the library door and walking toward her. “Any gossip about me will only add to my allure. No doubt I’ll have whispers following me wherever I go, but that isn’t altogether a bad thing.”

  “It isn’t?”

  He shook his head. “I’m all for revamping the prison system in Scotland. It’s not something most people want to hear about, but a little scandal might mean that the newspapers would be more willing to listen to me.”

  She stared at him in amazement as he smiled back at her. Nothing had the power to disturb Logan if he didn’t choose to let it.

  “There’s a way you could spare me some of the gossip, although I doubt you and I will ever be totally free of it.”

  “Is there? What is that?”

  “You could marry me,” he said.

  She could only stand there wordless.

  He nodded. “It’s the best answer, don’t you think?”

  Not one word came to mind.

  “It’s not the same in London without you,” he said. “I doubt I’ll be able to get any work done for worrying about you.”

  She really did need to say something, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “Nothing’s really been the same since that day on the hillside. I keep hearing your voice and I turn and you’re not there. I dream of you and I’m angry when I wake because you’re not beside me.”

  “The same things have happened to me,” she said. There, a few words she’d actually been able to speak.

  He smiled. “See? We should marry.”

  “Is that a sufficient reason?”

  “I don’t know of one better. I want to live with you for the rest of my life. I want your problems to be my problems. I want to tell you when I’m annoyed and have you save me from those interminable political functions.”

  “You want to marry me because you’re bored?”

  His smile faded. He reached her, placing his hands on her waist, and drew her forward.

  “I want to marry you because I love you, Eleanor Craig of Hearthmere. My life is worthless without you. I’m worthless without you. I want you and I need you and I sincerely doubt that I’ll be able to live without you. I might even pitch a tent in your garden and have my secretary bring my correspondence there.”

  She reached up with both hands and placed them on either side of his neck, her thumbs just behind his ears. For a long moment she only looked at him, trying to find the words that would convey everything she felt.

  “It would be very cold there, Logan. I couldn’t, in all good conscience, allow you to live there. At the very least I’d show you to a parlor.”

  “Marry me,” he said.

  She felt buoyant, as if she was a cloud blown by the wind. The words that were so difficult to say were much easier now.

  “I didn’t expect you,” she said. “You gave me a puppy, but you gave me so much more.”

  His smile was back in place.

  “I love you, Logan McKnight. I love you for a dozen reasons and more. I love you most of all, because with you I feel whole, as if you’re the other half of me missing for so long.”

  When he leaned forward and would’ve kissed her, she shook her head.

  “I need to finish this and when you kiss me I can’t think of anything at all.”

  His smile disappeared again.

  “I love you because you’re kind and generous, intelligent and loyal. You treat people with dignity, even those who can’t do anything for you. You make me laugh and think. You challenge me and comfort me, and having you love me was the greatest experience of my life.”

  She dropped her hands and took a step back. “But I won’t marry you, Logan. I won’t lose Hearthmere. It’s part of me. It’s my heritage, what’s left of my family. Hearthmere is my responsibility. I can’t abdicate it.”

  “You’re worried that our marriage will give me control over your property?”

  She nodded.

  “And that I’d do something to it?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think you would. But you could.”

  “Then I’ll gift the contents of Hearthmere to you. A wedding declaration. I’ll have my solicitor draw it up and you can have someone look it over if you wish. That way your inheritance will stay yours. A gift, and not subject to antiquated law.”

  To do that she would have to trust him. Words he didn’t say, but they were there in his eyes.

  She put one hand against his chest, right where his heart was. She could feel it beating powerfully beneath his jacket.

  Did she trust him? He’d saved her in more than one way. He was her friend. Her knight. Her lover. Yes, she trusted him, more than she’d ever trusted anyone.

  Once more he drew her into his arms.

  “Marry me, Eleanor, and be my love. We’ll have to live in London for a bit, of course, but we can make the city our own. Then we’ll come back to Scotland and live in Edinburgh or here or in my home. Wherever you want.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and put her cheek against his chest. How could she possibly explain what she was feeling? She’d been overwhelmed by grief, knowing that she would never see him again. Now he was here and he was offering her the world.

  What would life be like with him by her side? He’d dare her to do more, she suspected. Perhaps she’d take on causes of her own. Perhaps she’d even become more involved with Hearthmere’s breeding program. No doubt that would shock Mr. Contino down to his tooled boots.

  There wasn’t time to think of other changes that would probably happen in her life because Logan was kissing her. Sensations overcame thought and she could only clutch his shoulders and hold on.

  His kiss lit something within her, a ravenous need that was like hunger or thirst. She’d never thought passion could be fierce, but that’s what she felt now.

  Her hands slid beneath his coat and gripped his shirt. She wanted it off. She wanted all his clothing off.

  When they broke apart they only stared at each other. Their faces were both colored by emotion, their breathing equally harsh.

  “No, not this way again,” he said.


  He startled her by walking to the other side of the room.

  “It’s the only way,” he added. “I can’t be within five feet of you without kissing you, and we both know where that leads.” He looked around the library. “There isn’t even a sofa here. I’ll not take you on the desk.”

  “Come to my bed, then.”

  “And shock all your servants? I don’t give a flying fig for my reputation, Eleanor, but I care about yours.”

  She really wanted to kiss him for that comment, but he held up his hand as if he knew what she was thinking.

  “Does that mean I won’t be able to be in the same room with you until we’re married?” she asked.

  “Will we be married? You never answered me.”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes.” She smiled at him, but he still didn’t approach her.

  She went to one of the patterned tin walls and touched the middle panel on the second row. Smiling, she watched his expression as the secret door opened.

  “It goes to my bedroom,” she said. “Not a direct route, but it will get us there eventually.”

  He began to shake his head.

  “Eleanor . . .”

  “Logan . . .”

  Bruce settled the matter by entering the secret passage. She smiled at Logan once more before she followed the dog.

  Less than ten minutes later Bruce was happily chewing on his rope toy while Eleanor was backed up against a wall in her sitting room being thoroughly kissed.

  “Are you always so devious?” Logan asked when the kiss was over. He continued to nibble his way down her throat, which made it very difficult to speak.

  “Only when there’s a significant inducement,” she said, reaching for his trouser buttons. How odd that she’d never been maidenly with him.

  Her hands reached up beneath his shirt, her nails gently scratching his skin. He sucked in his stomach, which made her laugh.

  “Are you ticklish? I would never have known it.”

  “Now, that’s a dare if I ever heard one. Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

  He would take it as a challenge if she denied it. It was safer just to pull his head down for another kiss.

  There was none of the hesitation of before. None of the conversation or rationalizations. Only hunger. They were wild for each other and she didn’t care if he knew how she felt.