“I’m staying in a house with my brother-in-law and my daughter,” she countered. “I can’t leave Margaret, and Callum won’t allow her to go elsewhere.”
The older woman glanced at her husband. “We do have some influence, ye ken. Perhaps we could persuade the court that the new Lord Geiry isnae fit to be anyone’s guardian. And when ye wed Donnach, he’d be pleased to adopt the bairn. Then her upbringing would be his responsibility, and we could all tell MacCreath to go to the devil.”
“I’m flattered you’re willing to take such drastic steps on my account,” Rebecca returned, wishing she could tell them exactly what she thought of them and their “charity” toward her and Margaret. “It’s something to think about, but I would need to be absolutely certain that Margaret could remain with me before I took any action. He—Callum—is very fond of her,” she went on.Make them worry a little,she reminded herself. That had been part of the plan. “And he… he and I were friends for a very long time before he left Scotland.”
“Before he was chased out of the Highlands for being a disgrace, ye mean,” Dunncraigh amended. “He wanted ye to run away with him, after ye’d agreed to wed Ian. That wasnae done with yer best interests in mind.”
Abruptly glad some Madeira remained in her glass, Rebecca took a drink. “Yes, I recall. It was a terrible night.”
“Aye. And now here he is again, still panting after ye. I cannae even imagine what Ian would make of all this.” He sat forward, covering her other hand so that she felt pinned to the table like an insect.
“Now, now, husband, dunnae be so hard on our lass,” the duchess countered, though her gaze remained on Rebecca. “She’s had enough turmoil. Give her some peace.”
“I know I cannae replace yer father, lass,” Dunncraigh went on, nodding, “but I’ve tried to give ye my shoulder and my advice over the past year. And I find Callum MacCreath to be a poor excuse for a man, and an even worse one of a potential husband for ye. Ye called him what he was, and what he still is—a drunken boy. That’s nae a man to raise Margaret. That’s nae a man to have anywhere near ye.” He sat back again. “That’s a man who begins fights he cannae win, and ends up dying over pride.”
With her hand free, she took another drink. Where had she found herself, when she couldn’t be certain whether her luncheon companion had just threatened the man she loved, or if he’d acknowledged that they’d already tried to shoot him? And personally, she didn’t think Ian would be at all offended to see the man his brother had become, or the way he and she had chosen to respond to Dunncraigh’s betrayal.
“You make some very good points, Your Grace,” she said aloud. “And Donnach has of course been a steadfast friend.”
The duchess patted her hand rather firmly and released her. “My lad doesnae want to be yer friend, Rebecca. He wants to be yer husband. And he wouldnaegive ye a moment’s worry, which is more than ye can say about that MacCreath.”
Yes, she’d never have a moment’s worry until the second he pushed her down the stairs or put poison in her tea. Rebecca nodded. “Your advice has always been invaluable to me. And believe me, I am listening to it.”
“Good.” Dunncraigh pushed to his feet. “I’d like to leave here before that damned fool offers to chew my food for me,” he said.
More than ready to flee herself, Rebecca stood, as well. “Thank you so much for joining me today. It seems like it’s been ages since we’ve had time for chatting.”
They walked out to the street, and the two coaches rolled up to meet them. Rebecca thanked them again, but before she could step into her own vehicle, the duke took her arm. “Allow me, lass,” he said, helping her inside.
When he stayed in the doorway, a hand against each side of the opening, she took a breath. “I will consider everything you’ve said, Your Grace,” she said, figuring he was looking for assurance. “I promise you that.”
“A few weeks ago ye told Mr. Bartholomew Harvey to find someaught to get ye out from under Callum MacCreath’s paws,” he said, his voice low. “I can see Margaret freed from him. But I need to know that I can trust ye to cooperate and to keep yer silence about anything that might seem… irregular to anyone on the outside looking in. Are ye willing to do that?”
She had a very good idea how he meant to “free” Margaret. It would be the same way he’d freed her from Ian.Good heavens.“I would like Callum to relinquish his guardianship,” she returned slowly. Callum would likely want her to agree to whatever Dunncraigh said, but giving her permission for him to be killed?Never.Not even to help his plans. “Perhaps even to go back tohis business in Kentucky. But he is Margaret’s uncle, her only close family on Ian’s side.”
“Ye cannae have yer daughter back as long as he’s anywhere about, Rebecca. Do ye want to lose her to a drunken madman? He’s brought a damned wolf into yer home! He’s become naught but a common brewer, for the devil’s sake. He needs to not be here.”
“‘Not be here,’” she repeated. “You mean… dead?”
Hard green eyes studied her face. She didn’t know what she showed him; as hard as she tried to look stoic and hopeful of finding a way out of her predicament, the bile rising in her throat threatened to give away precisely what she thought of him and his suggestion.
“I’ve known ye for a long time, lass,” he said. “Long enough that ye owe me some truth.”
Nothing in the world could have prevented her from flinching at that. “I don’t understand,” she ventured, anyway. “When have I not told you the truth about something? You just proposed killing someone. Would you prefer if I didn’t hesitate?”
He cocked his head, the gesture much less enticing and vulnerable than when Callum did the same thing. “I want yer word that ye’ll marry Donnach. My lad’s been courting ye for a year. Until a month ago, ye were ready to plan the wedding. Why has MacCreath changed any of that? And dunnae say it’s because of young Margaret.”
“Itisbecause of Margaret. I told you, I won’t leave her. With Callum here, she isn’t going to be allowed out of his care. Not in favor of Donnach.” She grimaced. “You know he and Donnach have never gotten along.”
“I’m aware. Areyeaware that Donnach will be duke in my place one day? That ye’d be the Duchess of Dunncraigh, wife to the chief of clan Maxwell? Here in the Highlands, I’ve more power than the King.Donnach’ll give ye sons, lass. Sons to be kings. Ye said MacCreath likes young Mags. Let him have her, then. Ye’ll have more.”
This was him. The man who’d killed Ian, and her father, because he thought himself better than they were. Because he wanted what they had, and felt he deserved it. And he continued staring at her. “I… You’ve given me a great deal to think about,” she said, unable to stop her voice from shaking a little. “Too much for me to give you an answer at this moment.”
He drew a slow breath. “And yet ye did just give me an answer, I reckon. I’m disappointed, Rebecca.”
“Give me a day or two to decide, Your Grace. Please.”
“Aye. Ye take a day or two. Ye decide how the rest of us are to proceed. What good clan chief wouldnae allow a Sassenach female to make the rules we’re all to follow? Good day to ye, lass.” He backed out and closed the coach door.
