Ben landed hard in the chair behind him. Wiping his hand over his face, his friend shook his head.
“You have it bad for this one. I have never seen you this way.” Resting his elbows on his knees, Ben leaned forward. “Sheisa widow, Iain. And can do as she pleases, within the limits of discretion.”
Iain smiled at that—almost like giving him permission.
“But, for fuck’s sake, every man and woman who was here during that meeting kens what you were doing out there.” He nodded in the direction of the small chamber. “And if word gets back to her father, there will be hell to pay for embarrassing him with his daughter.”
“I know that.” That was the problem after all—even knowing all the problems his lust for her could create, he was losing control over his urges when it was about her.
“These properties are the cornerstone of our expansion, Freddie.” Iain growled at the reminder of their past. “This is the final step in controlling the majority of shipping in and out of this port. An untold fortune awaits us. You cannot allow a weakness for the lady to end this.” Ben stood then and walked to the door. Turning back, Iain recognized the grim determination on the man’s face having seen it many times in the decades they’d known each other. “I will not let you fuck this up for us.”
“I will handle this,Bertie,” Iain said before the now-called Ben could leave. Tit for tat and all.
“Youwill.” Ben shook off the vestiges of his past and stood straighter, regaining his composure before twisting the knob. “Just marry the damned woman. You get her body and her wealth.”
Ben pulled the door shut so hard that it shook on its frame, which was good because it drowned out Iain’s reply.
Marry her? What an absurd suggestion.
Clare waited forthe footman to lower the steps and then she left the coach. On her return to town, they’d stopped at her house to allow Archer to get started on unpacking her luggage. That reason should suffice, but the other was that Clare wanted no company while she visited with Caro.
And Caro would brook no excuses for her not arriving as expected. In exchange for her sister’s quick assistancethatnight, Clare had promised a more complete explanation than the tearful, humiliated one she’d given. After believing that she could face any challenge since she had handled so many in her life, Clare discovered that she was actually a coward.
And she’d fled.
Fled him. Fled what he’d done to her. How he’d made her feel. The doubts he’d exposed. Fears and desires and needs she’d masked for so long.
After leaving letters with instructions for Duncan and her solicitors, along with one for Mrs. Dunbar at the school, she’d packed quickly and made an escape. Caro had suggested Nairn’s small cottage on a loch not far from Edinburgh as the perfect place for a brief respite.Aftera night’s rest, that was.
It took several hours to reach it and Clare thought she may have held her breath the whole way, worrying that someone was following them. Clare had visited the cottage before and she found it as it was always left—stocked, comfortable and ready to inhabit. A caretaker lived on the property as did a housekeeper, so Archer’s worry she would be in charge of cooking and cleaning were eased upon their arrival.
The cottage, though Nairn’s definition of cottage and hers were quite different, consisted of two floors, four bedchambers, kitchen, dining room and a lovely parlor that looked out over the loch at sunset. And it was there, either reading in front of that window or walking along the loch’s edge that she spent each afternoon and evening over the next ten days.
Now, walking up the front steps to Caro’s door, Clare might be ready to explain herself to her sister.
The admissions she would make would not be easy. Though the critical ones were not directly related to Iain, his actions,theiractions, had triggered an examination of her deepest fears. An uncomfortable one at that. Yet, understanding what she truly wanted made her life’s path clearer.
In many ways though, Iain Buchanan had awakened more than just her body with his clever caresses and scandalous mouth. With his maneuvering and machinations, he’d reminded her of what she had ignored for so long—her need to be connected to her family. A mistake made in the stubbornness of those first years with Jonathan, even her very decision to marry him, had rippled down to separate her from any chance with her parents.
Not that her father had made it easier or even possible. Once his expansive pride was pricked, he’d refused to accept any attempts to reconcile, indeed any attempts to even be in her presence. If she’d done things differently, they may have had a chance of a truce instead of an all-out confrontation. If Jonathan had only...
“My lady,” Nairn’s footman greeted her as he opened the door. “Lady Nairn awaits you in the—”
“Foyer. Lady Nairn is in the foyer waiting for you,” Caro said from over his shoulder. “Thank you, I will see to her now.” Once the footman moved away, Caro grabbed her and pulled her close. “You look better, Clare. The fresh air of the loch has brought color to your cheeks.”
Clare did not get a word into the conversation for several minutes, until ensconced in her sister’s smaller, private parlor with a cup of tea in her hand. Caro could carry on conversations with others by her own efforts which, now to think on it, tended to ease the way through uneasy topics or entrances. Finally, Clare held up her hand, gaining Caro’s attention and getting her to pause long enough to take a breath.
“I am well, Sister.” Clare placed the cup down on the table and nodded. “The cottage was the perfect place for me.”
“Refreshed? Resigned? Resolved?” Caro’s gaze was filled with worry.
“As you and Samantha have rightly said, I have been existing and going on as I did before Jonathan passed away. I never truly considered where I am going or how to live after him.”
“Andthatman? Is whatever he did the reason behind this self-examination?”
The heat of a blush filled her cheeks as the memory of him, kneeling between her legs, licking her...
“Now you must tell me!” Caro said as she moved to sit next to Clare. Touching her cheek, her sister laughed. “You are nigh to red with this blush.” She touched the back of her hand to Clare’s cheek. “And almost feverish at whatever you were thinking on just then.”
