Page 82 of The Beastly Earl

"I love you, Ewan," she said huskily as he kissed her again. As he lifted his head, the desperation she'd seen in his gaze a few seconds ago flitted over his face as he inhaled and exhaled a sharp breath.

"And I hope you will say that again after we speak in private, mo ghràdh."

Startled by the bewildering remark, Louisa drew in a sharp breath of alarm. Before she could question him, three boys surrounded them whooping and cheering. Laughing at their excitement, Louisa kissed the three of them and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ewan ruffle Ross's hair. Seconds later the rest of the Rockwood clan encircled them.

The hours that followed were a blur except for one thing—her hand caught snugly in Ewan's strong grip. At different intervals their hands were pulled apart, but Ewan always found hers a moment later. Despite his obvious determination to keep her hand locked in his, it was impossible not to sense the underlying tension running just beneath the surface.

It surprised her that he'd followed the tradition of the Speerin task, but had not given her a Luckenbooth brooch, another centuries old tradition. Just as the Speerin task declared the intention of a marriage proposal, the brooch was a token signifying the marriage offer had been accepted. His wonderful and heroic declaration of his love was more than enough for her, but his failure to offer the jewelry still puzzled her.

While it was quite possible he wanted to present her with a brooch in private, as the new year rapidly approached, she began to realize Ewan hadn't mentioned marriage at all. It was also becoming painfully obvious that he was avoiding the matter at all. Whenever someone mentioned the subject, he found a way to dodge the question or redirected the conversation.

Then there was the air of desperation she'd sensed in him when he'd faced her with two cabers on his shoulders. It hadn't disappeared. He'd simply hidden it from her. Whenever she suddenly turned her head and caught him watching her, the brief glimpse of anguish on his beautiful warrior features frightened her. The bleakness would vanish as if it never existed, but she knew it was there beneath the surface.

It became a worrisome dread that nibbled at her in small bits. But every time he smiled or refused to let her hand leave his, the sense of calamity swirling the fringes of her happiness retreated. As the midnight hour drew near, the excitement of the crowd grew. The moment the church bells rang out into the cold, crisp night, Ewan's hard body pressed into hers from behind.

The warmth of him melted into her, and she reveled in the joy and happiness of the moment. Ross and Charlie stood in front of them, and as her hands came to rest on their shoulders, the two boys look up and grinned. Wills had pushed his way into Ewan's side and gently pulled Ewan's artificial arm over his small shoulders. As he grinned up at them, Louisa's heart swelled with happiness. Sebastian had been right, the new century was upon them, and her future was brighter than she'd ever dreamed.

§ § §

Ewan dragged in a deep breath as he continued to stare into the fire waiting for Louisa to say something now that the truth was out in the open. The silence that greeted him gnawed at him like an angry beast feeding on its young.

When everyone had returned to the abbey after the Hogmanay ceilidh, Louisa's family had quickly ensured their privacy. Her sisters had ushered the children upstairs, while the men had clapped him on the back as they'd directed him into the salon where Louisa had taken a seat at the fire.

The look of trepidation on her beautiful face as she'd looked up at him had made his gut twist viciously. Somehow he'd managed to gather his courage for the second time that night and began telling her the squalid story of his birth. The entire time he spoke, she'd sat quietly. There had been no rustle of skirts or gasps of surprise. It was a devastating quiet that had made it impossible to look at her.

Instead, he'd kept his back to her the entire time he spoke. Telling her brother yesterday had been humiliating, but this was a trial by fire. It didn't matter whether Melton believed he was doing the right thing or not by keeping a title that wasn't really his. It was what Louisa thought that mattered.

The silence deepened as he waited for her to say something. When she didn't speak, Ewan experienced a painful gnawing at his insides. Every tick of the mantle clock in front of him emphasized one more step toward the reality that he had lost her. He was about to turn and confront her when he heard the rustle of her skirts as she stood up.

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her walk to the sideboard to pour more than two fingers of whiskey into a glass, which she proceeded to drink in one gulp. Uncertainty barreled through him. This wasn't the reaction he'd expected. Actually, he'd not known what to expect, but if he had, it would certainly not be the sight of Louisa tossing liquor down her throat.

Ewan wasn't surprised when she coughed violently after swallowing the liquor. It was the reaction of someone unaccustomed to the drink. She kept her back to him, her head bent as if studying the bottles on the sideboard. Tension held her rigid, but he thought he saw a tremor shudder through her as continued to keep her back to him.

"And that's," she choked out as she coughed again. "And that's why you sent me away from Argaty Keep? From you? You used my deception to send me away because you learned you were a bastard?"

Every one of Ewan's muscles were pulled taut until he ached as if someone had sewn him up for a second time in little more than a week. The restrained anger in her voice offered up an explanation for her downing a glass full of whiskey. He could only assume the drink had been an effort to calm herself before speaking.

"Yes," he said tersely. "It was hard enough to believe I had anything to offer you before I knew I wasn't the true Earl of Argaty. After I learned the truth, even that was gone."

In a sharp gesture, she slammed the empty glass down on top of the sideboard. It rent the air with a loud, vicious crack as she whirled around. Anger had sent color flaring high in her cheeks, while her hazel eyes flashed with outrage. Ewan dragged in a harsh breath at how beautiful she was in the firelight.

She didn't move for a moment, she simply glared at him from across the room. Hands pressed deep into her sweetly curved, full hips, Louisa began to close the distance between them in slow, measured steps.

"You are the most annoying, insufferable, beastly man I have ever met," she sputtered with a fiery anger that accentuated her Scottish heritage. "Do you think so little of me that you believed I would actually care who your parents are?"

"Damn it, Louisa, I didn’t—"

"I am not finished," she snapped as she stepped forward and jabbed her finger into his chest. "I didn't fall in love with a title, Lord Argaty. I fell in love with a man who thinks no one can see past his physical wounds. But, I did. I saw beneath your scars, pain, and ill-tempered manner.

"I saw you for the strong, brave, honorable, caring man you are. A man who, despite his best efforts to be as curmudgeonly as possible, has the heart of a lion. That's the man I fell in love with, Ewan Colquhoun. I don't want any other man except him, and if you think telling me you're a bastard and not the true Earl of Argaty makes me think—"

With a quiet noise of frustration, Ewan caught her by the arm and tugged her into his chest. The moment his mouth captured hers, a sigh of surrender escaped her as she parted her lips beneath his. Soft and pliable against his hard, angular body, the warmth of her pressed its way through him and heated his blood.

Sweet as honey, he plundered her mouth as if in doing so he could possess every inch of her. The fervor of her response tugged a groan from him, and his cock hardened with a demand for satisfaction he knew would go unanswered for a little while longer. Before he lost control of his senses completely, he lifted his head. An incoherent protest passed her lips, and she leaned into him to nibble at the side of his neck.

"Christ Jesus, Louisa," he choked out as her mouth worked its way to the base of his throat.

She ignored his protest and slid her hand down the front of him to just above his erection. With a deep groan of regret, Ewan winced as he used his artificial hand in conjunction with his good one to pin hers behind her back. Louisa frowned up at him in frustration, and he bent his head to press his forehead against hers.