When he trusted himself to speak, he returned to the topic at hand. “I have no designs upon Lady Isla’s dowry or her familial connections, Grayburn. Upon my honor as a gentleman.”
Upon her person, however . . . Tavish most definitely had aspirations there.Thathe would not deny. He wouldn’t actupon those designs, but he held them.
Fortunately, Grayburn didn’t notice the omission.
“A gentleman,” the duke sneered. “What use is your word?”
Tavish gritted his teeth. “My honor is as valuable as your own, all things considered.”
“Youdareto besmirch my hon—”
“Enough, Grayburn.” Tavish held up a palm. “Ye dislike me. Ye consider me a fortune-hunter and rakehell or worse. Ye wish me dead. But none of those opinions change the fundamental nature of who I am—”
“A libertine like your brother? Or a light-skirt like your sister?”
It was an unforgivable insult.
Anger charred Tavish’s veins.
This bastard had ensured Mariah’s disgrace and dragged Callum to his doom.
But the soldier in Tavish saw the tactic for what it was—Grayburn was baiting him. Challenging him to lash out. To strike. And then what? The duke would accuse Tavish of assault? Have him arrested?
Powerful men had certainly reacted more brutally with less justification.
Tavish wasn’t a boy, quick to temper and imprudence. One didn’tsurvive seven years of constant war without learning to keep a level head when provoked.
“Careful, Grayburn.” Tavish leaned forward. “We both know the true reason ye say such things about Lady Mariah. Ye be jealous that it wasn’t yourself to whom she offered her virtue.”
It was a low strike, but given how Grayburn hissed and stepped back, Tavish knew his bullet had struck true. He had long suspected that Grayburn harbored a tendre for Mariah—the man expended far too much effort in church attemptingnotto look at her—and here was proof.
“No true gentleman would speak so crudely of a lady,” Tavish continued, “and Lady Mariahisa lady, no matter your insinuation, to say nothing of your ruinous behavior toward her.”
“Pardon?!” The duke’s eyes flared in surprise. “Again, what are you accusing me of here, Balfour? You thinkIsomehow orchestrated your sister’s ruination?”
“Orchestrated? Encouraged? The end result was the same. Spare me your protestations of innocence, Grayburn. We both know that ye have treated my own sister with much greater disrespect than I have ever displayed toward your own. At least my past intentions toward your sister were always honorable.”
“How dare you! I shall ensure that—”
“I’ve said my piece, Grayburn. Your threats are hollow. Fortunately, I do not require your approbation in order to live my life. Good day.”
With that, Tavish pivoted and walked off toward the woods, away from Grayburn and Isla and Fletch.
Anything, really, to prevent himself from plowing his fist into the duke’s smug face.
It took ten minutes of brisk walking to regain his temper.
Tavish needed to keep his distance from Lady Isla for the remainder of the house party. No good would come of them rekindling their physical attraction to one another, even if the phantom brush of her lips burned in his memory.
Aye, he loved her, but she had made her future goals clear. If he cared for her at all, he would respect her intentions and help her achieve them.
From now on, all he could be was a distant friend.
23
The kiss had been a mistake.
Isla knew it the moment she heard Gray’s aristocratic voice coming up the path.
