Chapter Seven #2
“Known?” She moved toward the door to open it, but he took her shoulder. She turned, puzzled, then alarmed, for he was scowling at her. “Known what?”
“I wish I had known that proper Miss Catriona, the Plain Girl of Glenachan, was willing to give herself to a man,” he said low. “I would have pressed my interests earlier.” He turned her by her shoulder. “I hope it is not too late. In fact, it might be timely.”
She blinked. “Timely?”
“I saw you there, my dear. You were lovely, your hair loose, your cheeks rosy. You seemed content, despite the situation, until it escalated. And it cut me to the heart.”
“Heart?” A sense of dread grew in her abdomen.
“I suspect something significant happened back there. I think you were compromised, dear.” He cupped his hand along her cheek.
“I care about you, I hope you know that. And I know you better than the earl ever could. Whatever you gave him so freely—surely you did, I saw your eyes when you looked at him—I can make that up to you. I deserve it more than he does. You deserve a better character in a husband.” He took her by the shoulders again.
“Husband!” She shrugged him away, stepped back. Her heart beat hard, her head whirled. How had she missed Grant’s interest in her? He had always been serious, grim, yet impeccably proper. This—touching her, revealing his feelings—was just a shock, in a chain of shocks to heart and soul lately.
“I do not plan to marry,” she said. “I have promised to stay with my father.”
“After this, he would approve, I am sure. I would have spoken to your father about my affection, but I was given to understand you would stay here, never marry, and remain chaste. And now this—affair with Kildonan begs a solution. I am offering to marry you and save your reputation and your father’s. Your family’s too.”
“Mac—the earl was a gentleman,” she insisted. “Let me go.”
“The old earl kept a mistress, more than one. His son would be the same way.”
“I am not his mistress. And what happened is no one’s business by mine and his. And there is nothing to know or suspect, I assure you.”
He took her arms, pulled her close. “Listen to me,” he said. “I know about your brother. I know what he is doing.”
She grew still. “My brother?” she whispered.
“Finlay has been bringing back some of those who were evicted from the glen years ago. He is setting them up again in their former homes. It is wrong. It is illegal.”
“That is ridiculous,” she said. How did Kenneth Grant know? Finlay was very careful, and so far had installed families only in remote areas of the glen.
“I’ve seen them,” Grant said. “I was after with my dogs when they pursued a stag. I chased them a far distance, and saw smoke curling up from an abandoned croft. Then I saw that ancient Mr. MacGillechallum, who was thrown out of his home with his old wife. They were sitting outside their house, which had a new roof and a new door. Why is that?”
“I do not know what you’re talking about. And even so, what is wrong with it?”
“You know what is wrong. That land is to be sold out of the earl’s estate.
The English who buy up Highland land and evict people want no tenants.
Sheep or hunting preserves—those are their main interests.
” He gripped her hard. “If you have been helping your brother, you will both be in great trouble if this is discovered.”
“I know nothing about it.” But she did, and looked away.
“The old wifey was singing a song that day, one you sang recently. An old Gaelic tune, and suddenly you knew it. You learned it from the old woman.”
She knew which beautiful old song he meant. “Let me go,” she said. “You should leave. If my father learns you put your hands on me in a vile manner, there will be plenty said and done about it.”
“Oh? What do you think your father will say about what the earl did? And what will the earl say about his factor making such bold decisions in his absence? He could have Finlay arrested. The sheriff at Inverness and the magistrate of the Torridon district will send those people away again, for they have no right to return. They are not capable of working the land or paying rent, and the land will soon be sold off.”
She stood motionless, feeling an ugly swirl of fear. “What do you want?”
“I want you to realize how serious this is. I want you to consider my suit now that you need it. And I want you to kiss me, Catriona,” he said. “I want to know what you gave Kildonan. I am willing to marry you, now that you need a husband.”
“I do not need—”
He bent toward her, his lips meeting, crushing hers. She shuddered at the touch of his mouth and bucked against him. But he yanked, determined. He had a grim view of the world, and Finlay’s offense—and hers with Kildonan—triggered something mean in him.
She twisted her head away. “Stop.”
“I can wait,” he growled. “But not long. I can report your brother’s activities to the earl and the sheriff. Everyone Finlay has brought back will be thrown out again.”
“Why do you care?” she asked, pulling against his grip.
“My lands of Kilmallie border Kildonan policies. I hear the earl will sell those acres eventually, and I intend to acquire them. Those people will not stay on the land if I have anything to say about it. When the earl finds prospective buyers, those wealthy men will either convert the land into sheep runs or develop vast hunting acres.”
“No,” she breathed. “I thought it was just rumor. The old earl did that. The new earl—the new earl would not sell more land.”
“He can and will. You cannot trust the new Kildonan.”
“You do not know him,” she said.
“I know enough. I—know more about families here than you can imagine. And besides, any glen folk Finlay installs here will be sent away again by Kildonan or the new owners when he sells the land. But I want that land. You and I can make a little bargain.”
“Bargain!”
“I will keep your brother’s activities to myself, and you and I will keep another secret.” He yanked her close, her hips against his own. Even through layers of petticoats, she felt him ground himself against her as he dipped his head to kiss her.
“Give me what you gave Kildonan,” he murmured. “And I will pretend to know nothing about your brother’s plan. And I will marry you.”
She froze in his arms, staring up at him, too shocked to reply.
“You declared yourself available by staying the night with him.” He slipped a hand behind her head and kissed her again, though she turned her head away.
“It is the price of my silence, Catriona. Your earl will never know. But tell your brother to stop what he is doing. I will acquire the land. Kildonan will be even richer and go back to the Lowlands where he lives. He will not care what happens to his Highland mistress.”
“I am not his mistress,” she said again, bitter and clipped.
“Good. Soon you will be mine, and then my wife. Until later, my dear. We have an agreement. Remember, you cannot trust the new earl. But you can trust me to keep my word if we agree. And you can trust me to take care of you.” He let go and opened the door to step out into the hallway.
Catriona stood for a long minute, limbs shaking. Betrayed again by a man she had trusted. Feeling faint suddenly, she rounded to sit in a chair, lowering her head, regretting her stays, regretting so much more.