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Try as he had, he’d never been able to make the lady happy.

And with the benefit of hindsight, he placed a lot of the blame for her unhappiness on his own shoulders.

Though he had treated her with kindness and respect, he couldn’t say that he had loved her. And perhaps she’d sensed that.

They’d both been able to pretend that they were tolerably content for a while, engaging in the courtship that had been foisted onto them both. But as soon as they’d announced the betrothal that had been the dearest wish of both their families, she had closed herself off to him both physically and emotionally.

It hadn’t bothered Evan as much as it should have. He would never bed a woman who wasn’t interested, in any case. And Celia had done a wonderful job of convincing him that she was far too demure to anticipate their vows.

The only thing that had truly hurt him had been when she’d informed him of the babe she was carrying on the day she’d left him. A babe that he could not possibly have planted in her womb.

It was then that she’d confessed that she’d been tupping a servant. One ofhisbloody servants.

Evan had been at a loss as to what to do the night of Celia’s confession.

She’d arrived at his study door late, blonde tresses tumbling in disarray down her back. Her bright blue eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance.

And she’d told him, bluntly and brutally, that she’d been lying with the help and had fallen pregnant. That she was leaving with her gardener and would be leaving Evan to deal with the consequences.

Evan had been blindsided. Torn, too. He was aware of his duty to his title. Aware of the scandal it would cause, should either of them cry off.

He didn’t much care about the vipers’ nest that was theton.But his mother did. And his sisters might well suffer the consequences of any scandal attached to Stockton.

Yes, he was all too conscious of the potential harm to his sisters’ prospects when the news broke.

And so, he’d lowered himself and begged Celia not to do anything hasty. Begged her for some time to get his thoughts in order.

That’s why, when he’d found her letter the very next morning – the letter that said she’d considered his request that she stay but was refusing it, he’d been ashamed of the relief he’d felt. Because it was a selfish relief.

He was relieved not to have to marry a feckless girl and raise her bastard child as his own, even if it meant that his family suffered.

But he’d been angry, too. Celia running meant that he was stuck. He’d have to withstand the gossip. Smooth the ruffled feathers. Suffer the sensationalist and even worse – pitying— glances of theton.

For one awful moment he’d considered going after her and asking her to return. See it through. He’d turn a blind eye. Let her do what she would with whomever she chose while he did the same.

His pride had stopped him, thankfully.

But he’d spent a torturous couple of weeks swinging between tracking her down and letting it go.

Eventually, he’d decided to wash his hands of the whole affair.

The decision had brough a sense of closure. But there’d been a sense of unexpected panic, too.

For with Celia gone, he was free and even obligated to start this ridiculous process all over again. Find a bride. Fill a nursery.

Only, he had no desire to put himself through such an ordeal again.

A sudden commotion in the gorse bush, followed by a flurry of wings, grabbed Evan’s attention, and he made short work of the bird that flew into sight.

Coming here had probably been a mistake.

But when the invitation had come from Viscount Northwood to join his family at a house party culminating in a ball to celebrate his daughter’s twenty-first birthday, Evan had thought the distraction might do him some good.

Though it had been two years since Celia’s disappearance, given that it had happened at Christmastide, this time of year was difficult.

And his remote Scottish castle, while beautiful, was isolated and barren of most festivities.

Lord Northwood had been one of the many people who’d recommended that Evan get started on marrying and having sons. The gentlemen frequently corresponded on matters of parliament and over time, their letters had become friendlier in nature as a result. He himself had only his daughter, the viscount had explained, and no heir to pass on the title, save a distant cousin.