Page 73 of The Beastly Earl

"That's no longer possible for reasons I cannot explain," he ground out bitterly as the dowager countess's malevolent face flitted through his head. "Will you do as I ask? Will you stay and do what I cannot?"

The boy remained still for a long moment as he studied Ewan's face as if looking for any deception. An expression of resignation and sorrow darkened the young Sudanese's face as he nodded his agreement to honor Ewan's request. Relief surged through Ewan as the boy capitulated to his demand.

"Thank you," he murmured as he sank back down into his chair drained of energy by the argument. "Now, go."

This time Asadi did as he was told, and Ewan leaned back in his chair and closed his eye. Christ Jesus he was tired. His wounds were healing well despite his body looking like a piece of material a seamstress had used to learn her trade. But it was the sleepless nights that made it difficult to heal faster. Ewan inhaled a deep breath then exhaled it before looking at Louisa's gift on the desktop. He studied it for a moment then pulled open the top desk drawer where he'd placed Louisa's note. Ewan unfolded the parchment and stared at her handwriting. His gaze skimmed the words until he reached the one sentence that had made it so difficult to let her go.

My heart is in your hands.

When he'd read her note for the first time, it had taken every last bit of control he'd possessed not to storm out into the hall and ask to her stay. Deep inside, a roar of anguish ripped through him at the memory.

"So you're simply going to run away." Wallis MacCullaich's voice echoed quietly in his study, and he jerked his head up in surprise. Lost in the hell he'd been condemned to, he'd not heard his mother come into his study.

"I am not running away," he said coldly as he rose to his feet. "Why are you here, mother?"

"What do you call it then?" she said

"I no longer have claim to any of this." He flung his hand out in a sweeping gesture the stitches in his arm tugging slightly in protest.

"Says who?" Wallis MacCullaich demanded imperiously. Ewan narrowed his gaze at her while the muscles in his cheek grew taut with anger.

"As I recall, madam, you confirmed the late Lady Argaty's claim that I was not the heir to the Argaty title or its lands."

"No, I confirmed you were my son nothing more. But you are the Earl of Argaty. You have been since your father died."

"I am a bastard. I am not entitled to my father's title."

"And the only people who know your father and I were not legally married are either dead or in this room."

"In other words, your solution to the situation is for things to continue as they were before I learned the truth," Ewan snarled. "I'll not live a lie, madam."

"It is not a lie. You were baptized as the issue of Dougal and Elspeth Colquhoun. My sister claimed you as her own the moment she signed your baptism record. You are the legitimate heir in the eyes of the church and the law."

"None of that changes the fact that you're my mother or that my father never married you. That detail says I'm not the legitimate heir."

"So you intend to label me a whore." The quiet statement made Ewan go rigid as his gaze met his mother's. With a slight shake of his head, he looked away from her.

"No. I would never do anything to hurt you. I'm angry that the truth was withheld from me, and it begs the question of why. Why would you allow your sister to claim me as her son? Why would you give me up so easily?"

The bitterness in his voice made Wallis flinch violently as her face became pale with anguish. Deep inside he recognized there was more than just guilt in her expression. There was a sorrow in her eyes that was so deep and agonizing it made him want to offer her solace.

"I didn't give you up easily, and I cannot expect you to understand," she said in a voice filled with pain and sorrow.

"Then try to make me understand why you'd do such a thing," he said with an anger he'd been nursing for days.

It was a rage he'd only just realized wasn't simply because he'd been lied to for years. The majority of his anger was rooted in the knowledge that his mother had cast him aside. Given him away to her—a woman who'd spent every moment in his presence making his life a living hell. As much as he didn't want to admit how deeply it pained him, it was a fact he could no longer ignore.

"I know my choices weren't good ones, Ewan, but I cannot undo the decisions I made. All I can do now is tell you everything I couldn't share with you before."

Wallis paused for a moment then crossed the room to sit on the edge of a chair at the fireplace. She didn't look at Ewan, but stared into the small fire burning in the hearth. There was a faraway expression on her face as she began her story.

"I met Dougal two days after the third reading of the banns for him and Elspeth. I had been living with my aunt in London who had promised my father she would find me a husband. She was in despair over my refusing several offers and was more than happy to see the back of me when I was ordered home for the wedding. I met Dougal while riding on the moors the day after I returned. It was love at first sight for both of us. We tried to stay away from each other, but from that first moment it was impossible for us to do so.

"For almost two weeks we tried think of a way for Dougal to break his contract with Elspeth and marry me instead. Your father argued vehemently that he would break the contract, leave for a year then return and marry me. My father was a harsh man, and I knew he would never allow me to marry Dougal when his oldest child had been humiliated.

"Not even an offer of compensation would have appeased my father for such a slight. I also had no desire to humiliate my sister by marrying the man who had refused to marry her. What I didn't understand then was that injuries to one's pride are usually resolved over time, but I was too much of a coward to agree with your father's plan."

She stopped speaking, and Ewan crossed the floor to sit opposite her. He wanted to demand she continue, but he saw the tears she was struggling to hold back. The torment his parents must have endured was something he understood far too well. Clearing his throat, Ewan studied the brick hearth in front of him.