Page 44
“D ead!” Simon raked his fingers through his pitch-black curls.
“Where did you get a daft idea like that?”
Morna reached out, stilling his hand. She quickly gave thanks that he was back in her life. This time, she wouldn’t let anyone separate them. “When ye disappeared, that’s what my da told me.”
“I didn’t disappear.” His deep blue eyes flashed with anger. “I sent you a message asking you to come with me to America.”
Her throat closed so tightly, she had to force the words through it. “I should have known it was a lie.” She brushed angrily at a tear traveling down her cheek. “I swear to you, Simon, I would have come. I’ve loved you since I first set eyes on you.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I should have listened to the voice in my head that told me to fetch you. Instead I allowed my foolish pride to think you’d rejected me.”
“Oh God, Simon. Never in a million years would I stop loving you.” She threw her arms around him, pulling him down to her.
His lips touched Morna’s. Gently at first, but long-denied desire surged within her, and she needed more. She clutched the back of his neck. Opening her mouth, she trailed her tongue along his lips, sucking the lower one.
Simon moaned. “God, Morna. I’ve missed you.”
Stretching out on the chaise, he half covered her as she explored. He tasted of finely aged, smoky Scotch whisky. She pressed one palm to his chest. It was so much harder than before. She wanted the waistcoat and shirt gone. “Where are you staying? I’ll come to you.”
“There is something I must tell you.”
His tone was so serious, her heart squeezed as if she’d been dunked in a cold loch. Surely nothing could keep them apart now. “What?”
Before he could answer, the door slammed against the wall.
“What the devil is going on here?” Cormac closed the door before striding toward them.
Morna struggled to sit up as Simon rolled gracefully to his feet. Her son, their son stopped and stared. His eyes widened in recognition. After all, the boy had been shaving for a couple of years now. “Who are you?”
“I’m—”
“Simon,” she begged, “don’t. Please, not here—”
“He has my face, my love.” He kissed her hand then turned back to Cormac. “I’m your father.”
His countenance flushed. “Ye mean I’m your bastard, don’t ye?”
“Not at all.” Morna was surprised at how calm Simon was being. “Your mother and I were legally married nine months before you were born.”
Morna was thankful she was sitting down. If not, she would have fallen over. Yet how could that be, and why hadn’t Simon said anything before? Why had he left her . . . ? Twice! “We cannot be wed.”
“Nevertheless, the fact remains that we are.” He motioned Cormac to a nearby chair, sat next to her, and held her hand as he met her gaze. “My only regret is that I didn’t know it until a few months ago.”
A throbbing had started behind her eyes. “I don’t understand. My father told me it wasn’t legal.”
A look of undisguised hate passed over Simon’s mien.
“As he told me. Unfortunately for us and our children, he was more interested in the outcome he wanted than the facts. A couple of months ago in New York, I ran into a couple who were at the inn when we married. They asked about you, which led to a conversation regarding Scottish marriage laws. I did some research, and they were correct. Our marriage was and is legal.” He brushed his thumb over her brow, soothing the pain that had started in her head.
“It amazes me how gullible and stupid I was.”
What a fool she’d been as well. “Ye weren’t the only one,” she said in her driest tone.
Her heart ached thinking of all the years they’d lost. Disgust curled her stomach.
The next time she saw Father, she would spit on him.
If she ever consented to have anything to do with him again.
“I even told old MacDiarmid, hoping he’d not take me to wife. The old bastard just laughed.”
Cormac paced the small room—it hardly seemed large enough for father and son—and finally he stopped. “A fine mess this is.” He ran his fingers through his hair as Simon had done not long ago. “The question is, what do the two of you plan to do about it?”
Simon raised a brow, and in a deadly calm voice, responded, “I intend to claim my family.”
Kit made his way across the crowded ballroom toward Mary. As she had been years ago, she was surrounded by a group of gentlemen. However, this time nothing would stop him from claiming her.
“Mr. Featherton.” His hostess placed her hand on his arm. “Would you be so kind as to dance with Miss Innes?”
He shook his head and said what he should have done years before. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I have already engaged a partner for this set.”
Leading Mary out to the dance floor, he ignored other gentlemen as they muttered. He twirled her in his arms, being careful to keep the proper distance between them.
“Are you having a good time?” she asked.
“I am now.” He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all evening.
“And when we danced before.” She blushed, but didn’t say a word.
“Other than that, it appears as if I’m expected to do the pretty with all the other ladies here.
” He lowered his voice, ensuring only she could hear him.
“I am amazed at how forward even some of the young women are.”
“I’ve noticed the gentlemen are the same. It must have to do with the weather.”
His jaw tightened. “If any of them behaves inappropriately, I’ll be happy to refresh their manners.”
It would please him even more to rearrange their features for them.
Her gaze focused on his, and he was lost in her molten silver eyes as she smiled. “Thank you. I shall keep your offer in mind.”
“Shall we make plans for to-morrow?” There might not be a promenade, but he wouldn’t put it past some rogue to ask her to go riding .
“Let’s do.” She smiled. “Shall we visit Holyrood Palace?”
“I think that is a wonderful idea. We must tell Lady Theo so she can return you in time.” Still feeling ill used over the last time they’d made plans, he continued. “I had no idea morning visits would take so long.”
“Neither did I.” Mary grimaced. “It presented problems I was not prepared for.”
So he’d heard. Anna had voiced her disapproval to her husband about the experience. “Perhaps we should make the tour in the morning. That way we won’t have to rely on anyone remembering to return you to the house.”
She nodded as he fought his urge to hold her closer, tighter as they made the turn.
“I don’t believe I’ll be missed on the rounds.”
Which meant, if he planned it right, he could have her for the whole day. If only he could monopolize her evenings as well.
With Finella in tow, Theo returned to the parlor. She glowered at Simon for a moment before taking a chair and pointing to another one. “Sit, lass.”
Finella’s large green eyes, exact replicas of her mother’s, flicked from her brother to Simon, as she sank onto a chair next to the chaise.
Simon wondered if she was always this quiet, or if it was merely the circumstances.
He could murder Morna’s father for having robbed him of the chance to know his children.
His son stood stock still, staring at the wall, until he refocused his gaze on Simon. “I remember you.” Cormac dragged a chair over close to the chaise. “You were the man who taught me how to tickle a trout and skip stones.”
Simon’s throat tightened as he fought back tears. “You were so young. I never even allowed myself to hope you’d recall.”
“My love.” Morna’s soft voice stole into the moment. “Mayhap we should tell your sister and Finella, and then figure out how we’re going to handle this.”
He made quick work of the explanations.
His sister covered her eyes for a few moments before saying, “I should have known.”
“How could you?” Simon asked. “I didn’t know until recently. ”
A soft smile graced her countenance. “I should have known you’d never take advantage of a girl. It’s so easy to marry here, yet it never occurred to me to ask the right questions.”
Brows drawn together, Finella gave every appearance of listening thoughtfully. Finally she focused on her mother. “This means I don’t have to marry right away, and I can go home, doesn’t it?”
“Home is a bit of a problem at the moment.” Cormac grimaced. “I suppose we’ll have to find and contact the rightful baron . . . as it’s not me.”
“Where will we live?” Finella asked.
“I have some ideas.” Simon smiled at her. “However, until the legalities can be worked out, we’ll be safer at my father’s estate near Hull.”
“Aye.” Cormac nodded. “My grandfather will be fit to be tied when he hears about this.”
Several moments passed in silence before Morna rose. “For the time being, we should go back to the town house I leased, and decide how to deal with all of this.”
Theo stood, shaking out her skirts. “Go out through the door next to the fireplace. That will lead you to the hall. I’ll make your excuses.” She glanced at Morna. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to spend the day with Finella to-morrow while you sort this out.”
Simon watched his wife, wondering if she’d know that was his sister’s way of welcoming Morna and the children to the family.
“Thank you,” she replied. “It would be a great help, and she should come to know her father’s side of the family.”
Once in the hall, Cormac called for the coach.
As they waited, Simon stood next to his son. “I’m sorry to be the cause of your losing your title.”
His son shrugged in resignation. “It seems to me it was my grandfather and the old devil’s fault. They had to have known your marriage was legal. I’m more worried about how it will affect Fee. There is bound to be a major scandal.”
“My family is highly placed, and from what I understand, you have all lived quietly. Wherever we go, we won’t remain in Scotland; somehow we’ll find a way to minimize talk.”
Cormac quietly studied the marble floor for a moment, then glanced up at Simon. “Who am I now, though? ”
Table of Contents
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