Page 20 of Love Me Forever


  “What will?”

  “The news that MacGregor seduced Kimberly.”

  Devlin stopped his pacing so abruptly, he almost tripped. “He did what?”

  She nodded now, and quickly clarified, “Seduced our Lady Kimberly, spent the night with her as well, and was found in her bed this morning.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  “Oh, come now, I thought that would make you feel a little less foolish.”

  “What it means is I’ll have to explain to her father how I let it happen!”

  “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “There wasn’t a thing you could have done. Something like that, if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen. It can’t be prevented.”

  It could, of course, by simply separating the two lovers, as in kicking that Highlander out of his house as he’d wanted to do to begin with. But he didn’t say that. There was no point. His lovely wife would somehow counter whatever he said with some romantic drivel.

  So he narrowed his eyes at her and demanded, “I suppose you’re delighted?”

  “Well…I’m not disappointed. It would have been nice if they had gone about getting married in the acceptable fashion, but—I’m no hypocrite, Dev. We—ah, sort of did the same thing, if you’ll recall.”

  A bit of color in his cheeks said she’d made her point. “He’s going to marry her then?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “Seems rather happy about it, if you ask me. She doesn’t, poor girl. At the moment, she’s quite embarrassed.”

  “As well she should be.”

  Megan gasped. “Don’t you even—” she began to rail at him, until she saw the slight turning of his lips. She finished with, “Wretch. We are the last two people who can cast stones. As for her father—”

  “Yes, her father, who’s going to be in a fine rage and rightly so.” Devlin sighed.

  “Ah—I think his rage might not be so fine, but a bit on the ugly side,” Megan confessed uneasily.

  He raised a brow at her. “How so? What else do you know that I haven’t been informed about?”

  “Just that the earl doesn’t like Scotsmen, any and all Scotsmen.”

  “He’s prejudiced?”

  She made a disgusted face. “Yes, very. In fact, he hates them so much, he’d probably disown his daughter if she married one.”

  “Bloody hell!” Devlin exploded again at that little tidbit. “You’ve known about that and you still tried to get those two together?”

  “I only learned about it the night the horses were stolen. I’ve hardly been matchmaking since that happened,” she added indignantly.

  “I beg your pardon, then.”

  “As well you should,” she retorted. “And besides, this isn’t a case of wanting to get married and having the earl withholding his approval. It’s a matter of have to get married. The man will just have to see reason about this, and I’m sure you’ll help him to that end.”

  “Me?!”

  “Certainly. You don’t expect me to do everything, do you?” she asked huffily, then turned on her heel to flounce out.

  But she nearly collided with Lachlan, who had come up behind her. Her eyes narrowed on him. “How long have you been standing there, MacGregor?”

  “Just,” he replied with a curious look.

  “Well, do go in then. But don’t keep my husband long. I don’t want him late for dinner. I’ll be serving a large helping of cro—”

  “That’s enough, Megan,” Devlin growled.

  She turned and gave him a tight little smile. “Certainly, dearest.”

  Lachlan closed the door behind her, remarking, “I wish my Kimber were that agreeable.”

  “No, you don’t, MacGregor, believe me you don’t,” Devlin mumbled.

  That said, they each recalled, at exactly the same moment, why they were having this meeting. Lachlan crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. It was a devilish smile, full of anticipation and no small amount of gloating. Devlin leaned back against his desk with a sigh, his own expression mirroring his self-disgust.

  “Lord Canston and my stable groom have both been arrested and charged.”

  Lachlan stiffened. “Before I could get my hands on him? D’you think that’s fair, mon, considering—?”

  “Considering you started the whole bloody thing when you attacked him that morning?” Devlin interrupted. “Yes, I’d say you didn’t need to take him on again, especially when you aren’t quite in any condition for it, and he’s in the best of health, and a bloody Corinthian at that.”

  Lachlan started to protest again, but allowed the duke might have the right of it. It wouldn’t be all that satisfying if he ended up the loser again because he wasn’t completely healed from the last bout.

  Devlin continued on a different note, “The horses have been recovered.”

  “Aye, I was aware o’ that yesterday.”

  “There were enough teeth marks to indicate the stallion enjoyed his sojourn in the woods,” Devlin said, his anger rising. “Both mares’ breeding programs have been ruined, of course. Neither was to mate with that particular stallion.”

  “D’you think that breaks my heart?”

  “No, but it might interest you, since I’m giving you the animals. The stallion is an unsure stud. His offspring tend to be either mediocre or outstanding, so there’s no telling what those mares will produce. But he’s a proven racer. He’s won quite a few championships here in England. In that he’s like my Caesar. I guarantee he’ll beat anything your Highlands have to offer.”

  “So you think tae pay me off, d’you?”

  “I prefer to think of it as a small amount of amends. Even if you don’t want to breed the animals, that stallion will win you many a purse.”

  “If I take him,” Lachlan replied. “But I dinna want your horses, mon. You’re no’ going tae clear your conscience that easily.”

  Devlin stiffened at that. “Then perhaps I’ll give them to Lady Kimberly—as a wedding gift.”

  That pointed reminder of the new predicament that Lachlan had got himself in should have put him on the defensive. Instead he laughed, saying, “Dinna be thinking I’m regretting what was done, or feeling guilty for it. I want tae marry the lady, St. James. And now I’ve got her agreement, I’ll no’ be giving it up for any reason.”

  “Her father may have something to say about that,” Devlin said.

  “Dinna fash yourself. I’ll deal wi’ her da. ’Tis no concern o’ yours. And now I’ll be having your apology, or were you thinking you could avoid it?”

  Devlin’s lips curled in a taut, humorless smile. “No, obviously not. You have it then. I apologize for the whole bloody mess, and for taking my fists to you without—current provocation. You weren’t given a fair hearing, and believe me, I do regret that.”

  “Verra nicely done, but I canna accept.”

  Devlin came off the desk with a low growl. “The hell you can’t.”

  Lachlan raised a brow. “You really mun do something about that temper o’ yours. If it werena so hot, you’d no’ have tae be apologizing. And I wasna finished. I canna accept your apology—yet.”

  In a flash, Lachlan drew back his fist and let it smash against Devlin’s mouth. The duke fell back against the desk and half across it. When he lifted his head, it was to see Lachlan grinning at him.

  “Now I can. And ’tis lucky for you, St. James, that I’m in such a good mood because o’ the lassie, or we’d still be discussing your apology.”

  After that parting shot the door closed behind him. Devlin rolled slowly off his desk, back to his feet. He brought his fingers to his lips. They were numb, but he tasted blood. And suddenly he laughed. The gall of the man. If that damned Highlander didn’t watch himself, Devlin was going to start to like him.

  36

  “Come along now, you’re going to enjoy it,” Megan said, practically pulling Kimberly across the lawn with her. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I do recall that you thought it was a good idea.”

&
nbsp; “That was before—well, before my husband was decided for me in a moment of madness.”

  Megan blinked, but then she burst out laughing. “Madness? My, now that’s a nice name for it, indeed it is. I’ll have to remember that the next time Devlin makes me—mad. Oh, now, do stop blushing. It really is funny if you give yourself a moment to think about it.”

  Kimberly disagreed. “Except it was madness, and I still can’t believe—”

  Megan stopped abruptly to put her arms around Kimberly. “You have to stop castigating yourself over this. It wasn’t madness, it was passion, and we all succumb to it at one time or another—and frequently if we’re lucky. I remember something Devlin told me before we were married—now what were his exact words? Ah, yes, that desire isn’t selective of place, time, or the individual.”

  “He spoke of that with you before you married?” Kimberly nearly whispered, because the subject wasn’t exactly what one would call normal.

  “Well, you see, we had a very—how shall I put this?—torrid courtship.” Megan then chuckled. “Actually, it was more like war. And that day, he was complaining about my arousing him. He went on to say, ‘When it happens to you, and it will eventually, you won’t have any more control over it than I do. You either make love or suffer with it.’ And I have to say, I’ve found that to be quite true. I imagine, that’s what you’ve learned as well.”

  “But it’s not something I should have learned before the vows are spoken. You didn’t, and—”

  “M’dear, I’m going to trust you with this little secret, because I hope it will relieve some of the agony you’re putting yourself through, but I did in fact learn all about it before my elopement to Gretna Green.”

  “You did?” Kimberly asked, wide-eyed. “You and the duke did?”

  “You don’t have to sound that surprised. As it happens, my marriage began exactly as yours is going to, and I wasn’t all that happy about it either—then. But now—I can only hope that your marriage is as wonderful as mine is, or at least, that you think so. And that is really all that matters, what you think, not what others think—well, I suppose you must take into account what your Highlander thinks also. Keeps peace in the family, don’t you know.”

  Kimberly actually grinned at the duchess. And she was feeling better—a little anyway. But she still didn’t want to go to the picnic that Megan had arranged in the conservatory. Especially since a great many of the houseguests would be there, and she had yet to face them en masse, having kept mostly to her room since it happened.

  She said as much, “I still don’t think I’m ready for this. They must all know—”

  “So what? They also know you’re going to marry him. Devlin saw to that announcement last night. You’ll be amazed how forgiving people can be, as long as whatever wrong you do is righted in the end. And you are righting your wrong by marrying the Scot. Now, if you had refused to marry him, then you would indeed have to bury your head under your pillow for the rest of your natural days.”

  Kimberly smiled. “How do you manage to make everything sound so simple—and silly?”

  Megan chuckled. “Because I work at it, m’dear. If I don’t keep a fair amount of silliness in Devlin’s life, then he’ll revert to being that stuffy, condescending man he was before I met him, and that, believe me, would be cause for war again between us. Now come along, or all the baskets will be empty by the time we arrive.”

  “Is—is James going to be there?”

  “No,” Megan said gently. “He returned to his home yesterday afternoon.”

  Kimberly sighed. “I feel so awful about James. I believe he wanted to marry me himself.”

  “But there’s no need to feel bad. It happens, and quite frequently during the Season. But he’s a grown man, he’ll recover, and likely continue to look for a wife, now the notion’s occurred to him again. And besides, you have to follow your own heart, and accept your feelings for what they are.”

  “But my heart isn’t—”

  “Shhh, you don’t have to tell me,” Megan said. “I know very well how much easier it is to deny and ignore what you’re feeling. I was an expert at that myself. But I also know that any man who can bring you—to madness—has got a very strong pull on your heart. For what it’s worth, I think you’ve made the right choice.”

  Right choice? Kimberly hadn’t made any choice at all, her body had, but she wasn’t going to argue that point with the duchess. Megan apparently had different views on love than she did. And Lachlan didn’t have any claims on her heart, nor would he—as long as he continued to love someone else.

  They finally reached the conservatory. It was pleasantly warm, almost humid, with so many people inside. A few tables had been brought in for the older folks who didn’t want to sit on the ground, Lucinda and Margaret included, but most of the guests were on large blankets that had been spread out between the foliage.

  Megan was warmly greeted as she passed by one group of guests after another—and Kimberly with her. No snubs, no disapproving looks or smirks. It was as if she weren’t at the heart of another scandal, as if there were no new scandal.

  There was, of course. And Kimberly had expected to be utterly embarrassed. That she wasn’t was possibly because Megan was announcing her support, by walking in with her arms linked with Kimberly’s. The Duchess of Wrothston did in fact carry a great deal of weight where people’s opinions were concerned. Or it was possibly what Megan had suggested, that folks could be forgiving as long as the wrong you’d done was going to be righted. But whatever it was, Kimberly was immensely surprised—and relieved.

  “Ah, there he is,” Megan said, having located her husband. “And it doesn’t look like he’s dug too deep into that basket yet.”

  Kimberly grinned. “Possibly because he has that adorable cherub in his lap, keeping him busy.”

  “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”

  Kimberly had been privileged to be taken up to meet the Wrothston heir not long after she’d arrived at Sherring Cross. It hadn’t taken her but moments to fall in love with the beautiful child, and she’d been back to visit him on many occasions.

  She joined Megan on the large blanket now and held her arms out. “May I?”

  “Good God, yes!” Devlin replied in relief and quickly handed his son over. “It’s bad enough I’m at a picnic in the heart of winter.” He paused to give his wife an exasperated look. “But I’m bloody well starving, yet couldn’t eat a thing without Mr. Twenty-hands there snatching at it.”

  Megan chuckled. “Let me translate that for you, Kimberly. What he means is he’s spent all his time thus far feeding Justin, and enjoyed doing it so much that he forgot to feed himself as well.”

  “Och now, mayhap there’ll be enough food for the rest of us then.”

  Kimberly stiffened, but Lachlan still plopped down on the blanket beside her. No wonder she hadn’t seen him when she entered the conservatory—and she’d looked. He’d been following behind her and Megan all along.

  “Do join us, Lachlan,” Megan said, somewhat dryly, since he already had.

  He grinned, unabashed as usual. “’Tis a fine afternoon for a picnic, lass,” he told Megan, but then his warm green eyes moved immediately to Kimberly and stayed on her. “D’you no’ agree, Kimber?”

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” she replied reluctantly.

  She could no longer relax with him there, though. He simply had that effect on her. Neither could the duke apparently, though for other reasons. He did nod to Lachlan, however, albeit quite curtly. Kimberly was surprised. Evidently they were going to be on civil terms again, if somewhat on the let’s-ignore-each-other side.

  And the duke’s puffy lip, well, Kimberly certainly wasn’t going to ask about it. She had to wonder though.

  “You look verra nice wi’ a bairn in your arms, darlin’,” Lachlan leaned toward her to whisper at the back of her ear. “But I’m thinking you’ll look even nicer when ’tis my bairn you’re holding.”

  Kimber
ly blushed furiously at that insinuation, though with Megan and Devlin both presently digging into the picnic basket and setting items out on the blanket for them all to share, neither of them had likely heard him. Which wasn’t to say they wouldn’t if he continued such inappropriate talk with others near to hand.

  So she hissed at him, “The least you could do is confine yourself to suitable subjects when we’re not alone. Or is that asking too much?”

  “Aye, I fear it is,” he said with a sigh, as if he might actually regret that he couldn’t—as if she might actually believe that. “There’s just something about being near you that leads me tae be thinking o’ procreation.”

  She gasped. She looked away from him. She wasn’t going to address that remark at all. And behind her, she heard his soft chuckle.

  “Careful wi’ those blushes, darlin’. You ken how becoming I think they are on you. I may have tae kiss you tae be proving it.”

  Her head turned sharply so she could glare at him. “If you do I’ll—”

  “Aye, kiss me back, I know,” he cut in with a nod. “And then you’ll be blushing even more, I dinna doubt, and I’ll be thinking about carting you off tae a place where I can be kissing you proper.”

  It was the oddest feeling, to be so outraged, and yet become excited about the very prospect of being carted off by him for some proper kissing. Proper, she assumed, as in improper…

  Gah, she was mad, to let him keep doing this to her, infuriating her with his audacity, inflaming her with his sensual banter, and in public, where she’d cause a scene if she tried to deal with him as he deserved. But he wouldn’t persist if he didn’t get a reaction. She really was going to have to work on denying him that reaction.

  To that end, she said now to Megan, “If there’s any fruit in that basket, I’ll take a piece, please.”

  At her back, Lachlan whispered, “Coward.” And his soft laughter had a devilish sound to it.

  Kimberly didn’t react. Well, at least she didn’t say anything more to him. But she still blushed.

  37

  During the next few days, the mansion slowly emptied of all its guests. Some returned to their homes because the Christmas holidays were fast approaching. Others had to be nudged a bit, with Duchy having no qualms in announcing that the house party was officially over.