“Malcolmis it?”
“Yes. It is.” And as she said the words, she felt the visceral truth of them.
ItwasMalcolm.
HerMalcolm.
She simply needed the man towantto claim her, too.
Confessing his guilt to his brother was an important step, but hardly the same as declaring undying love for herself.
And she would rather brave the adversity of a tarnished reputation than force him into an unwelcome marriage.
Once in the field, the four Scotsmen shucked their coats, tossing them atop an obliging stump, leaving themselves in waistcoats and shirtsleeves.
Kendall looked upon the whole with disdain but apparently not enough disgust to climb back into his carriage and leave.
Viola watched unabashedly as Malcolm cuffed his sleeves, rolling up the linen to expose muscled forearms, tendons flexing underneath his skin. Malcolm caught her staring and quirked his eyebrows into a question mark. Viola looked away, a blush surely staining her cheeks.
Ethan stepped up to the chained stone and dragged the rock onto the softer turf of the field. He kicked a small log into position to act as a toe board.
A muscle twitched in his tightly clenched jaw. The light breeze ruffled his disheveled brown hair.
Everyone stared, waiting, anticipating.
Finally, Ethan turned to his older brother.
“I trusted ye!” He thrust a finger at Malcolm. “I have always trusted ye! Ye knew I liked Miss Brodure. Ye knew I was courting her. How could ye betray my trust in such a manner?!”
Glaring at Malcolm, Ethan hefted the chain and spun in a quick circle, the shackled stone spiraling in an arc around him—once, twice—
On the third rotation, Ethan released the chain, sending the rock soaring down the field.
Malcolm’s stoic expression gave nothing away. He retrieved the stone—marking Ethan’s placement by stabbing a stick upright in the ground—and dragged it back to the starting line.
“I am sorry, Ethan,” Malcolm said, leaning toward his brother. “Sorrier than I can say. This is not how Viola or myself wished ye tae find out.”
Mimicking Ethan’s actions, Malcolm spun and sent the rock flying. It landed several feet beyond Ethan’s marker.
Ethan glared, as if personally offended, stomping off to fetch the stone. He marked the placement of Malcolm’s throw with a second stick in the ground.
“I deserved tae know the truth,” Ethan spat when he returned to the toe board. “Why didnae ye simply tell me?”
Ethan grasped the chain and spun around, hurling the rock across the field. It landed beside Malcolm’s previous marker.
Malcolm retrieved the stone.
“Because I am a coward,” he said, “and had never looked at a woman other than Aileen. Because the whole crept up on me so unexpectedly. Because I didnae realize my own heart until the moment of no return had already come and gone. And then ye were off tae Aberdeen. Viola and I intended tae tell ye today.”
But did they? Viola wondered. Malcolm had said nothing of it.
Malcolm threw the stone, this time inching past Ethan’s marker.
Growling, Ethan stomped off and dragged the stone back. “Viola Brodure is a refined, gently-bred lady. She doesnae deserve to be caught up in such ugliness. Did ye give this any thought at all before ye compromised her virtue?!”
Ethan’s words were impassioned, but his throw fell short of his brother’s stick.
Sighing, Malcolm fetched the stone.
