Page 15 of Two Nights with the Duke (Cherish and the Duke #3)

M alcolm was surprised when Ballantry turned up at his solicitor’s office at precisely the appointed hour. It was the middle of the afternoon, and he was pleased this matter would now be dealt with quickly and without rancor, judging by Ballantry’s defeated expression as they took seats around the conference table.

“Read it over,” he said as Gordon MacRae, his Aberdeen solicitor and kinsman, an intelligent man in his late forties, handed the document to Ballantry.

Ballantry spared no more than a glance at the parchment before signing. “There, now give me my money, ye bloody arse.”

He followed the statement with several more vile curses hurled at Malcolm.

The solicitor’s eyes widened in response to the earl’s offensive language. “Now, see here,” he said, rising with indignation to defend Malcolm.

Malcolm motioned for him to sit down. “Leave him be. Ye can see the man is a blight on humanity. Let him rant, for these slurs are all he has in his arsenal. He’ll be on his way to the Continent shortly and will never set foot here again.”

Malcolm turned to Ballantry and handed him two more documents. “Sign these, too.”

Ballantry stared at the papers. “What are they?”

“Duplicates of the settlement agreement. I had Mr. MacRae prepare three identical sets as a precaution. Sign them.”

“What if I don’t?” he growled.

“Ye really need to ask me that? Ye know I dinna trust ye. Each original will be held in a secure but separate location. All ye have to do is honor the terms and I will no’ bother ye. Cross me, and ye’ll regret it.”

Ballantry cursed him once again.

His kinsman rose to defend him, but Malcolm waved him down again. “He’s merely flailing. Leave him be.” He then turned to Ballantry. “Ye had better be gone from Scotland before the week is out or yer dirty secret will be all over the gossip rags.”

“Just give me the money,” Ballantry spat, his face red. “I wish ye nothing but misery with yer harpy of a wife.”

Malcolm sighed. “Come along, the bank manager is awaiting us. Watch what ye say about Jocelyn, or ye’ll never get the rest of the funds. That’s part of the settlement terms and the one I won’t hesitate to enforce if ye ever dare speak ill of her.”

“I am only speaking the truth,” Ballantry said, shoving his chair back and almost toppling it as he rose.

Malcolm rose with him. “It is yer distorted truth, and I would advise ye to keep those distorted thoughts to yerself. The terms are clear. Speak against her and ye’ll lose everything.”

He bade his solicitor good day and walked out onto the street with Ballantry, who was still fuming and resentful.

The Royal Bank of Aberdeen was but a few streets away. They strode apace amid the bustling crowd, passing one stately granite stone building after another until their destination came into view. The bank was another of those beautifully crafted buildings whose silvery granite stones shimmered in the afternoon light. This was a feature of Aberdeen, those gray quarry stones that gave the city its distinctive character.

The manager, another MacRae kinsman, was expecting them and immediately rushed forward to escort them into his private office. “All is in readiness, Yer Grace.”

The exchange was easy and rapidly done, since Ballantry also happened to have accounts at this same bank. The manager, an earnest but rather priggish distant cousin, was overly solicitous of Malcolm and eager to be of assistance. He believed a mere business transaction was taking place. Malcolm thought it better not to disabuse him of the notion.

Both he and Ballantry maintained the pretense of civility between them.

Once the transaction was completed, Ballantry began to complain bitterly about having to make arrangements for his travel out of the country. “Ye dinna give me enough time, Camborne. I’ll need more than a week to make these preparations.”

Malcolm regarded him stonily.

“I always said ye were a bastard,” Ballantry muttered, and stormed out.

The manager turned to Malcolm, obviously rather shocked. “Not a friendly transaction, I gather.”

“He’s a lazy oaf who does not like to put himself out. Now, about the other matter I mentioned to ye?”

“Oh, yes. Lord Granby’s account for his daughter. Shall I transfer the fifty thousand pounds into it now?”

“Aye. And ye’re not to make mention of my hand in it when I bring Lord Granby and his daughter here tomorrow. Same for her personal account. How much was in it before Lord Granby withdrew the funds?”

“Oh, let me see. Easy enough to check the registers.” The manager withdrew a large ledger kept at hand because he knew Malcolm wanted information on any accounts held in Jocelyn’s name. “She has two accounts besides the one you recently opened on her behalf. One had a hundred pounds in it and the other had ten thousand.”

“Had?”

“Aye, Yer Grace. They’ve had only ten pounds in each for several months now.”

Dear heaven.

What would Jocelyn have done had she arrived here on her own only to find she had twenty pounds to her name? That was barely enough for a coach ticket and suitable lodgings and meals to get her back home.

Malcolm sighed. “Replenish those, too.”

“If ye will but wait a few minutes, I shall return promptly with the receipts.”

“Be quick about it,” Malcolm muttered, not liking the idea of Ballantry on the loose and angry as blazes. He trusted Terrence to watch over Jocelyn, of course. But no one was going to be as attentive as her own husband.

Malcolm ached to get back to her.

The wait seemed interminable, but it was less than ten minutes before the manager returned with the receipts in hand. “Here, Yer Grace. All done. Complete discretion, of course. I shall see ye, Duchess Jocelyn, and Lord Granby tomorrow at the scheduled hour.”

He escorted Malcolm out, casting him a conspiratorial grin as he repeated, “Complete discretion, Yer Grace. Ye may rely on me.”

Which was exactly what worried Malcolm, for the man was still talking about being discreet as they walked through the bank. All this well-meaning but officious behavior would call attention to them and alert others that something was going on. Precisely what Malcolm did not want.

He bade the manager farewell and strode back to the inn.

Hours had passed since he had left Jocelyn’s side. He doubted she would still be out with her mother, since Lady Granby had not the stamina for a full day of shopping. Likely, they were safely back at the inn now.

The proprietor eyed him nervously when he entered.

“Have ye seen my wife?” Malcolm asked, knowing the man was in fear of a repeat of this morning’s performance. His hand had gone protectively to the set of keys he wore attached to his belt, as though he were worried Malcolm was going grab them and go on another apish hunt.

Well, he had behaved like an utter idjit .

He cast the proprietor a wry smile. “Ye can ease yer hand off the keys, Mr. Grant. I’ll no’ be asking ye to break into rooms.”

The man grinned. “Aye, Yer Grace.”

“Do ye happen to know where my wife is at the moment?”

He nodded. “She’s in the dining room having tea with her parents and yer man, Terrence.”

“And Lord Ballantry? Have ye seen him?”

The proprietor shook his head. “He went out earlier but has not returned yet.”

Malcolm hoped this meant Ballantry had gone immediately to make his travel arrangements. It was true, giving Ballantry only a week to make those arrangements was not fair. But it could be done, considering he had only clothes to pack, since he had wasted almost everything else. The furnishings were not worth moving, and many Italian villas were offered to let with furniture included.

“And Lord Burling?” Malcolm asked.

“I dinna know, Yer Grace. He was in a foul temper when he walked out a few hours ago. Perhaps he has gone off to drink again.”

“Let me know when he returns,” Malcolm said, and then walked off to join Jocelyn.

Everyone at her table looked up at him in expectation.

“What happened?” Jocelyn asked. “Did all go well?”

He nodded. “The settlement is signed and done.”

“Thank goodness,” her father muttered, casting him an avid stare to ensure the dowry sum had been replaced.

Malcolm gave a quick nod.

“Good, good,” Granby said. “Well, now it is time for me to release the dower portion. Shall we take care of this tomorrow morning, Camborne? Seeing as how nicely ye’ve taken care of my daughter, I am honored to turn it over to ye.”

Malcolm merely grunted, not trusting himself to say anything.

Jocelyn’s expression was soft and filled with love for her father. When she looked upon Malcolm, he saw pride shining in her eyes.

Aye, the lass was feeling a burden lifted off her shoulders.

She had come to him with nothing, and this had been a source of shame for her. Unwarranted, of course. But this was why she had delayed setting out terms for her own protection in the marriage. She did not want anything more from him because she already felt she was taking advantage of him.

He had told her repeatedly that it did not matter.

In truth, he wanted to give her the world. Falling in love did that to a man, he supposed.

That he was capable of falling in love at his age was a complete surprise and a kick in the arse for him. His head was still in a spin.

Jocelyn’s smile was the sweetest thing. She was as happy as a meadowlark, and Malcolm silently prayed all would go smoothly tomorrow and this matter would be put behind them forever.

He smiled back, hiding his remorse for the deception he and her father were about to play on her.

Oh, how he ached to tell her the truth. But how could he break his oath to her father?

Later that night, when they returned to their suite after supper, Jocelyn confronted him. “Is there more going on than your worrying about Ballantry and Burling?”

“Why should there be?” he responded evasively.

“You were somber and unsettled all evening.”

He shrugged. “It is nothing, just my cautious nature. I like to know where all the players are in this unpleasant game. Did ye notice Burling was not around tonight?”

Jocelyn nodded. “Now that you mention it, yes. Where do you think he might be?”

“I dinna know, lass. That’s what has me concerned. I only hope he is off doing what he always does, drinking himself sick in some nearby tavern or trying to cheat some locals in a game of cards.”

Jocelyn remained thoughtful for a moment. “It cannot be easy having to scrounge for every shilling, too proud to find work because he is a ‘gentleman’ and above such common exertions.”

“The allowance provided by his brother would have been more than enough for a frugal man. But Burling has no restraint. If he isn’t drinking, he is gambling, and is now so far in debt that he will never recover on his own. This is why he always has his hand out.” He took Jocelyn in his arms and gave her a quick kiss on the nose. “Let’s agree not to fret about him any further tonight. He isn’t worth it.”

She looked up at him with her big eyes clouded with worry. “You first. I’ll stop fretting when you do. Perhaps we ought to rethink the matter of buying him off.”

“Do not go soft now, Jocelyn. We are almost at the end. He will only take it as a sign to approach ye more aggressively next time and demand more. This is his character.”

“And why you revile him?”

Malcolm nodded and kissed her again. “He could have taken on many respectful roles and still maintained his status as a gentleman, but he chose to do nothing but squander his life away. I would rather give alms to the needy. They are more deserving of assistance than that rat.”

“But if pushed to desperation, do you think he will try something stupid? We know he was working up the courage to harm you last night.”

“No, lass. I think he is all thunder and bluster, but his wind will die out soon and he will move on.”

“I hope you are right.”

So did he.

They retired to their bedchamber.

Malcolm had grown used to the way Jocelyn curled up beside him and nestled in his arms. In truth, he was growing to crave this affection. This was what he had been missing all of his life, this connection. This knowledge that someone cared whether he lived or died. This love she was giving him openly and generously.

This unconditional love.

Lord, he was an arse for holding back what he already felt in his own heart.

Come morning, Malcolm awoke early, as was his usual routine. But he lingered in bed waiting for Jocelyn to open her eyes and provide him with her weather report mixed with her endearing words of love.

His heart welled as she woke up and smiled at him. “Good morning, lass.”

She scrambled out of bed and scurried to the window to look at the weather outside.

He thought she looked delectable as she stared out onto a gray sky and a darkening sea. “Oh dear. It is overcast, Camborne. We shall have rain today for certain, and…”

He arched an eyebrow. “And?”

She hurried back to his side and hopped onto the bed beside him. “And we have been married sixteen days now.”

He laughed and took her back in his arms. “That long already?”

“Regretting it?” she teased.

“Not a minute of it, lass. But I think ye’ve made a mistake in yer weather report.”

She cast him a look of dismay. “What mistake?”

“Ye’re overlooking the sunshine ye bring into my life. Looks quite sunny from my vantage point.” He liked lingering in bed with her, and admired her shapely figure beneath the gossamer fabric of her nightgown.

She playfully poked him in the ribs. “I did not think Silver Dukes were this sentimental. Careful, or you might just turn into a romantic poet.”

He laughed heartily. “Och, no. I’m not one for flowery words.”

“You think telling me I bring sunshine into your life was not flowery?”

“Dinna tease me about it, Jocelyn.”

“I’m not. I love you with all my heart.” She planted soft kisses all over his face as she continued speaking. “I’m delighted you feel this way. But we had better start to get ready or we’ll be late for the bank appointment.”

He drew her down atop him and held her in his embrace. “We could cancel it and just remain in bed all day.”

“Not on your life, Camborne.” She kissed him again before shoving off him. “You are to collect my dowry today. I will not have it put off any longer.”

That infernal dowry.

He wished he did not have to go along with that lie.

They readied themselves for the day, and then went downstairs to join her parents for breakfast before heading to the bank. Jocelyn’s mother was not going to join them, her excuse being that she tired easily and did not wish them to be distracted while they carried on their important business. “If the weather is not too foul, I’ll sit on the terrace with a cup of tea and a book to read.”

Jocelyn seemed to accept her mother’s excuse for not attending the sham of a dowry transfer ceremony. Malcolm knew her mother wanted to remain behind so as not to look upon her husband as he continued to deceive his daughter.

Malcolm also ached over it. They were all in on the deception.

What made it worse was Jocelyn’s pride in now being able to come to him with something. He set down his cup of coffee and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Lass, just remember…I dinna care about yer dowry. It is yer heart that is the true treasure.”

She laughed softly. “I knew it. You are turning into a romantic poet.”

He groaned as he eased back in his seat. “Och, dinna say that. I have a Silver Duke reputation to uphold.”

“Powerful and ruthless? Cold and aloof? Merciless in getting what you want? Camborne, perhaps it is true to an extent, because I think this is how you have dealt with Ballantry and Burling. But not with me. You have been so wonderful to me.”

“Because ye are my wife.”

“Is this the only reason?”

“I made a vow to honor and protect ye. I always keep to my vows. Always , lass. Even those I regret making and wish I could break.”

Her smile disappeared and her lips began to tremble. “Excuse me,” she said, and abruptly rose to leave.

“What was that about?” he muttered, and rose to chase after her. “Jocelyn, what in blazes? What happened to suddenly upset ye?”

He walked her outside onto the terrace, which was deserted except for them because the air was moist with the threat of rain and the sea wind had a bite to it. “Tell me, Jocelyn. What has ye suddenly threatening tears?”

“I thought you cared for me.”

He shook his head. “I do. Is it not obvious?”

“But you wish you could break your wedding vows. You just said so.”

He thought back to his words and groaned. “Ye thought I was talking about us, lass? Och, no. It never even crossed my mind.”

“Then what vow are you regretting?”

“It is just something said in passing. Not important at all. And not about us.”

“But it could be someday, couldn’t it?” she asked.

He removed his jacket and wrapped it around her slight shoulders. “No, lass. That day will never come. Do ye think I kiss just any…”

He sighed, because this had been him until only recently, kissing just anyone who caught his fancy and then moving on without another thought or care.

“I know my reputation is no’ the best. But ye are mine now. Mine to honor and protect.”

He should tell her that he loved her.

Was she not his to love , honor, and protect? He felt this commitment deeply. But how could he be certain it was an enduring love after only sixteen days?

The urge to reveal what was in his heart went against the training instilled in him from a very young age. Never be too trustful. Never give someone leverage over you. Never show weakness. Never tip your hand to what you are feeling.

Never give your heart away in only sixteen days.

In truth, he had known he loved Jocelyn after merely two nights.

Perhaps even the very first night, when she cast him that impudent stare and admonished him for returning to his own room at the Arbroth Inn and disturbing her peaceful sleep in his bed that she had no right to be in.

“Come back inside, lass. We had better be on our way.”

She nodded as she cast him a frail smile.

It tore him apart to see that her mirth had fled.

Terrence remained behind to quietly keep watch over Lady Granby. Although Malcolm felt she would not be anyone’s target, why take the chance? Ballantry and Burling were still at the inn and no doubt seething over their unhappy outcomes. Who knew what that pair might do?

He had ordered a hack to be brought around. It was waiting for them when he walked out with Jocelyn and her father.

Malcolm climbed in last and settled beside Jocelyn. He took her hand in his, hoping she would understand their bond of marriage was unbreakable. She was not smiling as she glanced up at him, but did not remove her hand from his.

Well, she was not outright rejecting him. This was something, wasn’t it?

They reached the bank, and the manager, Malcolm’s kinsman, came running toward them. “All is in readiness,” he said with a conspiratorial smile. “Come right this way.”

Och, did the man have to be so obvious?

He escorted them into his impressive office and they all settled around an elegant table surrounded by cushioned leather chairs.

“We’ve come to transfer the account holding my daughter’s dowry to her husband,” Granby said, nodding toward Malcolm. “As ye obviously know, he is the Duke of Camborne.”

The manager nodded. “Indeed, I do. We are cousins. Distant cousins, but still related by blood. Of course, I was delighted to learn the news of his recent nuptials. It is a pleasure to make yer acquaintance, Yer Grace,” he said, nodding to Jocelyn.

She smiled and nodded back. “We have met before, Mr. MacRae. I often stop in when I am in Aberdeen, since I also have my own accounts with your bank.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, of course,” he said with a blush, obviously having no recognition despite the fact that Jocelyn was beautiful and would catch any man’s eye. Perhaps the man had a fondness for blondes or redheads instead, Malcolm mused.

Malcolm was eager to get past the awkward moment. “The funds are to go directly into the account I established for my wife a few days ago.”

The manager leaped to his feet. “I’ll take care of it at once and return with the receipt.”

He took off so fast, he did not notice Jocelyn about to ask him a question. “Never mind,” she muttered to herself.

Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, eager to have this transaction finished and them out of here. “What is it, lass?”

“Nothing important. It can wait until he returns.”

He wanted to press her, but decided it was better not to say anything. However, he could see that something was troubling her. It would come out once the manager returned.

Which he did not long afterward with the receipt showing the transfer of fifty thousand pounds into the account Malcolm had opened in her name as duchess. “Is there anything else I may assist you with?”

Jocelyn nodded, smiling at a young man who had just appeared at the door. “Yes, there is. I happen to have several accounts with your bank. They have run unexpectedly low, as I only discovered yesterday with the help of your Mr. Armbrewster. I would like them now replenished. I would also like to see the ledger entries, because there has obviously been a mistake made. I did not spend those accounts down to almost nothing.”

She turned to Malcolm. “Those are my independent accounts. I already have established credit with most of the ladies’ shops in Aberdeen. One of the shopkeepers showed me a bill that was returned unpaid.”

Her father coughed.

“I was sure a mistake was made and needed to be cleared up immediately, since I had made additional purchases yesterday while out with my mother. Those bills will be presented shortly, and I did not want any problems. Let me introduce you to Mr. Armbrewster, the assistant manager here. He is the one assisting me with my personal affairs.”

Malcolm nodded toward the string bean of a man who had thinning blond hair and wore thick spectacles. “Yer Grace,” he said respectfully. “We are honored by yer presence.”

He then turned to Jocelyn. “Yer shopping accounts are no longer in need of replenishment, unless ye spent more than ten thousand pounds yesterday.”

She laughed. “Where on earth would I spend such a sum? No, there is definitely something odd going on. You and I checked those accounts just yesterday and saw they were almost down to nothing.”

Malcolm glanced at Jocelyn’s father, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, but clearly not about to make a confession.

Trouble.

Malcolm knew it at once.

Her father made matters worse with his obvious shifting and flustered manner. “Ah…um…secret is out. I had yer accounts refilled.”

Jocelyn regarded him thoughtfully. “When? And how would you even know to do this? I only discovered the problem yesterday and said nothing to anyone about this mistake. I thought to address it at this morning’s meeting. But you knew my accounts had already been emptied. Why, Papa? Was it because you were the one who withdrew my savings without telling me?”

“Jocelyn, ye canno’… Er… Enough, child! I am yer father.”

“Which makes it all the more egregious,” she countered. “It must have been during our last trip to Aberdeen. No wonder the haberdasher claimed I had not paid my last bill. Why did you not tell me? And why take from my accounts when you could have simply taken what you needed from the dower account?”

Her father gaped at Malcolm.

Oh, Lord.

This man was as bad a liar as his daughter.

A good thing, Malcolm supposed. Was it not better to be surrounded by people who did not know how to lie to him?

He refused to help Granby out of this mess of his own creation.

Of course, if he were the one needing to come up with a convincing lie, he could readily do it. Not that he ever would. However, he already had a dozen made-up reasons that sounded plausible whirling in his head.

He could have offered up one of those paltry excuses to help her father out. But this was Granby’s problem, and he was not going to jump in to rescue him by making up more fabrications.

“Ye were betrothed to Ballantry by that time,” Lord Granby blustered. “I dared not touch that pot on the chance he demanded to see it for himself.”

Jocelyn glanced toward Mr. Armbrewster, who had turned red in the face.

She sighed and turned back to her father. “Are you certain, Papa? Or was that money gone before Lord Ballantry ever proposed to me? You drained that account first, did you not?”

Now her father turned red in the face. “Oh…ah, did I? Was it? Ah…let me see. Oh, well. Who remembers exactly? Perhaps I moved some funds around, but they are all put back now. So where’s the harm? Ye can shop to yer heart’s content, lass.”

“Shopping? Is this all you think I am capable of keeping in my head? Did you withdraw the funds from my other accounts at the same time? To invest in those dodgy ventures I warned you about?”

“Yer other accounts?”

“Yes,” she said more forcefully. “The ones you just admitted taking.”

“Ah, did I? I dinna recall. Lass, why are ye giving me this inquisition? I am yer father and ye ought to be more respectful.”

Her lips pursed as she stared at Malcolm a long moment before returning her attention to her father. “When exactly did you deplete the dowry account? If you do not tell me everything, I will demand to see all the registers.”

Her father turned to Malcolm in alarm. “Who said I did? It is all there! Ye’ve just seen the receipt for yerself. And I will not give my permission for ye to look at anything.”

“You are too late. Yesterday, when I stopped in here to inquire about the haberdasher matter, I overheard Mr. Armbrewster and Mr. MacRae discussing a transfer into the dowry account that had been drained to nothing.”

Lord Granby glowered at the poor fellows. “Ye had no right to give my daughter this information!”

“They didn’t. I happened to be standing nearby and they did not see me.” Jocelyn moved to stand in front of the hapless Mr. Armbrewster, as though to protect him from her father’s unwarranted wrath. “And had I directly asked these gentlemen, they would have had every obligation to tell me, since those funds belong to Camborne now that he and I are married. Do not give me that nonsense, Papa! I will not be lied to! Did Mama know about this, too? Of course she did. She hasn’t read a book in years. Now all those odd looks she has been tossing at you these past few days are starting to make sense.”

She let out a ragged breath and continued. “Why did you not just tell me? Do you think I would not give you the very clothes off my back if you needed them? And what were you going to say to Ballantry had I married him and he demanded this account that you knew was empty?”

Her father stared at her in silence.

Her eyes rounded in horror. “You were going to send me to that vile oaf knowing you did not have the funds available? Oh, how could you? Was the money already gone when you entered into the betrothal agreement?”

Her father sank heavily into his chair and buried his face in his hands. “Lass, stop asking questions. It’s all taken care of. The money is in the account.”

“How?” She nibbled her lip as her sharp brain began to put the pieces together. “Who loaned it to you? Papa, if you were so direly in need of funds as to take everything, even my own accounts, who was going to lend you so much as a groat? What did you have to give up to secure those funds?”

“Nothing,” he said in a muffled voice. “I gave up nothing.”

“How is it possible? Did your investments suddenly come through?” She shook her head. “No, it could not be. I read in the papers that the mining company you were so eager to invest in months ago just had its assets seized last month. I…”

She turned to Malcolm.

Oh, hell.

“Did you know about this?” She continued to stare at him. “You knew . You were in collusion with my father?”

“Granby, tell her all of it,” Malcolm said, wanting to shake her father, who was still sitting with his hands over his face and refusing to admit anything. Aye, the man felt defeated and acutely shamed. But his daughter loved him and was not going to cut him out of her life unless he persisted in lying to her.

As for him, he had no idea what Jocelyn would do about him. He was merely her husband of sixteen days. He hadn’t met her until the day before he married her. Two nights and one day was the extent of their relations up to then.

“Camborne, you tell her. I cannot. I canno’ look my daughter in the eye.”

Jocelyn’s face was etched in pain as she turned to Malcolm. “ You gave him the money? Of course, it had to be you. On what terms?”

A muscle twitched in Malcolm’s jaw. “No terms. He needed it and I gave it to him.”

“And you never thought to tell me? You hid the truth from me? You listened to me go on and on about my dowry and about paying you back for all you had spent on me? You said nothing while I stood there like a prideful fool, and all along you knew I had nothing to give you? You listened to me jabber like an idiot and never stopped me.”

He took her gently by the shoulders. “Ye never made a fool of yerself. How can ye ever think that? When I sensed something was wrong, I went to yer father. All I ever wanted to do was protect ye, lass.”

She snorted. “Because you thought me stupid.”

“No! Because I thought ye worthy of my protection. I was only thinking of yer happiness when I gave my oath to yer father that I would no’ tell ye. That’s what I was talking about earlier today. That vow I wished with all my heart I could break. As for yer dowry, may it all go to blazes. I dinna want it. I never wanted it. All I ever wanted was—”

He broke off before he spilled his heart to her in front of everyone, for he could not bear the humiliation if he was rejected.

“What, Camborne?” She looked up at him with those big eyes of hers that tore at his soul. “What were you going to say? But you stopped yourself because you cannot bring yourself to say it, can you? Am I now supposed to believe all you ever wanted was me ?”

She glowered at him as he remained silent and refused to respond. “I do not want any more lies from you. How many other vows are you bound to that you cannot break?”

“None, other than my vows of marriage.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Jocelyn, ye know I will never break those.”

She snorted again. “Oh, do I?”

“Aye, lass. Ye do. No matter how angry ye are with me at the moment, in yer heart ye know it is a good marriage.” He sighed and stopped himself from saying more. He was not above groveling, but would not do it here and now. “I think we’ve put on enough of a show for these gentlemen. Let’s return to the inn and yer father can tell ye the entirety of his story. Right, Granby? Ye’ll tell her all of it.”

Her father merely groaned.

“Come along, Papa,” Jocelyn said, her voice filled with hurt. “It is time the truth came out.”

They returned to the inn, the three of them so gloomy that one would think they were on their way to a funeral. Which brought up memories of Malcolm’s own parents and siblings dying, and the pain of losing them all tore up his insides. He had never faced a greater agony than the deaths of his dear ones.

But he was about to face a similar agony now.

Would Jocelyn be too angry ever to forgive him?

He understood why she was hurt, but was her father not to blame for this? All Malcolm had done was attempt to preserve her father’s stature in her eyes.

Would she absolve her father and then lay the blame squarely on him ? Would she hold on to her resentment until it gnawed at her insides?

Her mother’s smile faltered when they entered the inn and she rushed forward to greet them. Since Lord Granby could not look at his wife for all the shame he felt, and since Jocelyn was simply angry as blazes, Lady Granby turned to him for answers. “Camborne, what happened?”

He sighed. “Jocelyn knows what your husband did.”

A light breath rushed out of the woman. “Thank goodness the truth is finally out.” She drew Jocelyn into her arms to offer comfort. “Child, I know how disappointed ye must be in me and yer father.”

“And do not overlook my husband,” Jocelyn said as her tears began to flow. “He eagerly joined in the deception.”

Her mother frowned. “No, ye are not to blame him. He was a most reluctant accomplice and wanted ye to be told the truth. It was me and yer father who insisted on keeping up the lie. He came to our rescue, his only intention to spare yer father any shame. Who else would have been so honorable as to do such a thing? Certainly not Ballantry.”

“Jocelyn, let’s discuss this back in our suite,” Malcolm said, and asked her parents to join them.

Her mother declined.

Her refusal surprised him, for he was merely an incidental player in this game her father was playing and did not have all the facts before him. “Why no’, Lady Granby?”

“Because I need to box my prideful husband’s ears for creating this mess in the first place, and ye need to speak to my daughter with heartfelt candor. Things may be said between ye that we should not hear. Be warned—my daughter can be just as stubborn and wrongheaded as her father sometimes.”

“Mama!”

“Do not give me that tone of voice, Jocelyn. Do ye think I am blind to yer foibles? It is yer husband who should be indignant that ye even think to blame him for this mess that was yer father’s fault. And need I mention yer hand in it?”

Jocelyn gasped. “Mine?”

“Aye. Now, I’ll admit I also had a hand in this because of my constantly pressing ye to marry. The weight of all the Granby relatives hounding ye could not have been easy for ye to bear. But ye were the one who got that flea in yer ear and accepted a man ye knew would be an unsuitable match for ye. Ye couldn’t have found a bigger arse had ye searched under every rock in Scotland.”

Jocelyn’s face turned red, but she still had that indignant look upon her face.

Her mother—bless the gracious lady—was not finished chiding her. “Now, go up to yer suite with yer husband and listen to what he has to say. Really listen to him and do not let yer pride get in the way of sound judgment.”

Aye, it was a relief to have found an ally in Lady Granby. Malcolm sensed he would need all her support when dealing with Jocelyn.

“Come along, lass.” He reached out to wrap Jocelyn’s arm in his, but she edged away and walked upstairs on her own.

He followed after her, completely at a loss as to how to handle arguing with someone he cared deeply about and feared to lose.

She stepped inside and strode to the window.

“Camborne,” she said, watching the first raindrops that had threatened all day now begin to fall in earnest, “let’s put an end to this farce.”

“What are ye talking about?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Getting out of this marriage. Isn’t this what you really want?”

Thunder roared in his head and he felt the world around him collapsing.

Was this what she wanted?