Page 140 of A Rogue in Firelight

Then he went toward Jameson, leaning to confer. “I see. I see,” he repeated. “Astonishing. Interesting,” Jameson said. He rose to his feet and Beaton took his place.

“I leave you in good hands,” Jameson said. “My tea grows cold. The Honorable Lord Justice Beaton will hear this final request. Miss Graham, come up.”

She walked forward, feeling a sudden fluttering doubt. “Thank you, sir.” Facing Beaton, although she knew Sorcha’s oldest brother, she had never seen him in this role. She quailed.

But then caught Ronan’s steady glance. He did not know what she intended here, but she nodded, then turned back. “Sir, I wish to submit a petition and a letter.”

“Bring your papers here, Miss Graham.”

Watched by all, sensing Ronan’s concern and feeling Corbie’s piercing glare like a knife blade, she handed the pages to Lord Beaton. She did not want to explain the matter before the company here. But this step was imperative. She knew that. But she began to twist her fingers.

Reading the pages, Beaton cocked a brow, then looked up. “Most of you wait outside. Only Miss Graham and her father will remain. Robertson! Show them to the foyer.”

“Ellison,” Ronan murmured, as he left. He looked puzzled. Her heart galloped, her hands shook with uncertainty.

But she was determined to present her claim to the court—and speak to her father about her marriage. These last weeks with Ronan had taught her greater confidence, but her nature would always be to doubt herself. That demon resurfaced with claws as her father approached.

“Ellison, what is this about?”

“You will see, Papa.”

“Darrach, wait,” Sir Hector called. Ronan turned at the door. “We must talk. Where can you be found?”

“I am a renting a house on North Castle Street. But I can come to you.” He glanced at Ellison.

She set at hand to her upper chest. Her tenant was Ronan? Neither he nor Cameron had mentioned it. Perhaps it was meant to be a surprise. She smiled a little, and he nodded slightly.

“Come to my home tomorrow,” Sir Hector said. With a nod, Ronan left, but the flash of concern in his blue eyes went straight through Ellison’s heart. Soon she would tell him what she had done here. There had simply been no chance to explain.

“Lord Beaton, I wish a word with my daughter.”

“Take a moment, then. I need to consider this petition.”

Sir Hector took her elbow and led her to a corner by windows overlooking the square.

“Papa, what did Mr. Corbie tell you?” She looked into his gray eyes, so like her own.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ronan watched highrainclouds through the tall windows in the Parliament House foyer. The bells of the cathedral rang again, drowning other noises, but he could hear the skirl of pipes and beating drums as Highland regiments practiced for tomorrow’s procession. He ought to be there, he thought, with them, with Sir Evan, who had sent word to invite him.

But he would stay here while Ellison did whatever she had come to do. Had she told her father of the marriage yet? Had Corbie done something to pressure her? Staving off worry, he waited silently beside Hugh and Sorcha, while Corbie and Pitlinnie stood apart, looking annoyed. Lord Jameson crossed to the entrance while speaking with Robertson, his clerk.

“Darrach.” Corbie approached. Ronan turned stiffly. “You can go on your way. Miss Graham has important business to discuss with Justice Beaton and Sir Hectory.”

“I can wait,” Ronan said in a flat tone.

“Take my advice.” Corbie lifted his chin high. He was not tall, but had a way of radiating arrogance. “Leave the girl be.”

Ronan pulsed a muscle in his jaw, took a breath. Two. The hall was nearly empty, for the place was closing down. Three regimental soldiers stood a few yards away. Jameson was near the door. He gauged his options as thunderclouds rumbled in echo of his rising temper. But this was not the time to heave Corbie by his coat tails, much as he ached to do it.

“What do you mean, sir?” he finally asked.

“The paper Miss Graham is delivering today is an application for annulment.”

Ronan flared his nostrils. “How would you know that?”

“She confided in me. Quite upset, feeling she had made a mistake, that she was coerced. I consoled and counseled her.”