She thought for a moment, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I had no idea you were so sentimental, Alec.”
“Wait a while. Men are slower to grow up than young ladies. Let Brodie be for a year or two, see if he still has your heart then.”
“Thank you, Alec. You’re very wise. It’s a good thing you’re Laird of Glenlorne. Things will be well again now, won’t they? You’ll make them right.” She got to her feet. “I’m going inside to speak to Lottie. She said she knows everyone in England who’s worth knowing, and she’d be happy to sponsor me. She’ll be a married lady herself by then, of course.”
He stayed where he was and watched her go. If only all problems of the heart were so easy to fix, he thought.
He stared out at the hills, at the old tower, its crumbling walls so full of holes that the stars shone right through it. Was it a symbol of the clan’s permanence here on this land, or the emblem of a people as tumble-down and desperate as the tower?
It had stood for four hundred years against wind, rain, snow, and even war. It had been there throughout his life, yet he’d scarcely paid it any notice until the day he saw Caroline standing in the window. The memory of finding her there, of making love to her under the open roof on Midsummer’s Eve had him instantly, uncomfortably hard again. How long would it take to forget her once she left Glenlorne? What if she were to stay, as Megan suggested?
He couldn’t imagine Glenlorne without her. He looked forward to the sight of her every morning, to catching a glimpse of her walking to the village, or climbing the hills just to see the view. The clan just accepted her as a fixture here—even Muira—a rare honor for a Sassenach. Between Alec and the tower, the loch glittered and the wind was busy blowing the last of the rain clouds out of the sky. He took a deep breath, and realized how much he loved Glenlorne, the way he had as a child, when his grandfather still lived.
Alec felt alive here, not the creature of shame and shadow he’d been in London. Angus MacNabb had been dour and taciturn during his lifetime, but he made his clan feel safe and cared for. Alec wondered if he could do that too. He pictured himself with a family, a happy home, the village rebuilt, a school, the hillsides dotted with fat sheep and sturdy Highland cattle. And a loving wife, of course. Sophie.
Yet Sophie was the only part of the picture that rang false. And she was the one person he needed—along with her fortune—to make it all happen.
“What the devil were you thinking?” Somerson’s harsh voice demanded, drifting through the window above Alec. “Did you consider my position for even a moment before you ran off, the embarrassment you might have caused?”
“You told people I had retired to the country, ill. How long before you simply told them I was dead?” Caroline replied. “It seems to me as if you found a most convenient solution.”
“Don’t be impudent!” he bellowed. Alec heard Somerson’s heavy footfalls cross the floor.
Alec was on his feet in an instant. He flattened himself against the wall and peered in the open window from the shadows, ready to stop Somerson from harming Caroline. She was standing before him, her chin high.
Alec stepped back into the shadows to watch and listen. Eavesdropping was a useful skill he’d learned in Westlake’s service.
“You won’t strike me, Neville. People would see the marks. I didn’t mean to cause you any inconvenience. I simply felt I had no choice.”
“You had plenty of choice. Two fine suitors—”
“I don’t love either of them. I could never love them,” Caroline said breathlessly.
“Love? You sound like your mother. She told me she loved my father, but she was nothing but a fortune hunter. Love has nothing to do with marriage for our class. Noble matches are made for financial reasons, for political gain, for land and pedigree. I chose suitors for you who answered all those requirements. Love had nothing to do with it. You are most fortunate to receive proposals at all. You’ve never had a Season, never been introduced at court. I spoke to Speed and Mandeville both. They are still willing to entertain marrying you, ruined though you are. If you had done this in England, no one would marry you. As it is, you are damned fortunate I can still conceal this—this—fool’s errand.”
“I don’t feel fortunate,” Caroline replied evenly. “Nor am I willing to marry either gentleman.”
“Then you will not marry at all,” he threatened. “I am your guardian, and if you will not obey me, then I will take you to Starbury Manor. You will stay there permanently, and wish you were dead indeed. You have no choice.”
“There is one other choice, Neville,” she said softly.
Caroline was standing on the rug in front of his desk, her hands clasped, but she did not look submissive in the least. The candlelight flamed over two spots of color on her pale cheeks, and she held her head high. Alec felt a surge of pride.
“Then you’ll do as I say and marry where I tell you?”
“No.” Her voice was quiet, but firm.
“No?” Alec heard anger in Somerson’s tone.
“I will sign a paper, give everything I own to you—you may have my dowry.”
Somerson stared down at her, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “What? You would be penniless!” .
“I am aware of the consequences. I understand my dowry is quite large. Let me go, Neville, and you may keep the money. It is a better arrangement, is it not? You wished to marry me off to whoever would take me. You would still have had to pay my husband my dowry. This way, you can keep it, and still be rid of me.”
Somerson considered the matter in silence.
Alec stared at her. Lady Caroline Forrester, half sister to one of England’s most powerful peers, was throwing everything away just to be free. Wasn’t that what he’d done when he left home, swearing to go to Ceylon, to make his own way in the world and never return? It hadn’t worked out for him. He’d been beaten and robbed the very day he reached London. If not for Westlake picking him out of the gutter, he’d likely be dead by now. Caroline had no such protector, no such hope, yet she stood with her shoulders square, her chin high, her eyes clear, sure of what she was doing.
