Chapter 10
It was a mistake, June thought hazily, as their lips touched. She”d made a terrible mistake. But it was too late. And after all, it wouldn”t be the first mistake she’d ever made.
He had moved across the grass towards her almost before she had even finished speaking. His arms swept around her, one hand gripping the back of her neck to hold her firmly in place. As if she might run away. She almost laughed then. As if she would ever want to run from Cameron.
His lips molded to hers, savage and strong, engulfing her in a suffusion of the senses. The feel of his arms around her, his warmth, his toughness. The touch of his lips as they sampled her mouth with expert strokes, sending the blood rushing through her veins as liquid heat pooled between her thighs. She could taste the moonshine. Smell the scent of him–lake water and fish and brine and a very male musk beneath it all.
His hands were beginning to roam. First over her back, then gripping her hips with a possessiveness that made her feel weak. One strong hand stole up to cup her breast–a gesture so sinful but so pleasurable. She moaned and pressed herself hard against the hand. Fingers, confident and sure, searched and found her nipple, rubbing it in a pleasurable rhythm, bringing the soft sensitive bud to an even harder peak.
All the while, Cameron”s lips were deepening the kiss, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling and sucking.
A feeling of elation so strong it made her dizzy swept through her, followed just as swiftly by a terrible sinking reality. This. This was the man. The man who should have been her mate, her husband, her partner in life.
And she had ruined it all. She had not had the faith to wait for him.
She had rushed headlong to her ruin and now ruined she was, forevermore. Trapped in a terrible prison she would never be able to break free from.
And this kiss, this kiss simply reminded her of all she had lost.
Cameron broke away from her, his hand falling aside.
“What is it, lass?” He looked guilty. “If I took too many liberties, I’m sorry…”
“No, it isn’t that.” But she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Still, I think we’d best be going. Don’t you?” She tried to smile. “They’ll be getting back from the hunt soon. I should be there to greet our guests.”
She tried not to think of how furious John would be that she had gone out alone with the duke. Was Cameron back to being merely “the duke” in her mind so quickly? He was when she thought of him in relation to her husband. Then both men turned into cold, imposing figures.
“Aye. If ye say so.” He had risen to his feet. June tried to do the same. She found they were not as steady as she remembered them being before her fall into the lake.
“I find I’m rather dizzy,” she said, just before she pitched forward with a gasp.
He caught her by the hands and steadied her. “‘Tis not so uncommon in one who nearly drowned.”
He frowned down at her. “Ye’d best go straight to bed when we return. No greeting guests. A quiet night, warm by the fire is what ye need. I’ll tell yer husband.”
She opened her mouth to object, knowing John would not appreciate being told how to treat his wife by another man, but found she was too weary.
“Ye’ll never make it like this,” Cameron decided.
In an instant, he had scooped her up into his arms.
“I’m too big for this,” she protested. “I’m not a child. I’m too tall.”
“Tall?” He grinned down at her. “Is that the reason? Yer light as a feather. Lighter than ye were ten years ago.”
“Nonsense. That can’t be true,” she protested. She tried to think. It was true she’d lost some weight. These past few months, things with John seemed to have gotten worse. The more worried about the estate he became, the crueler he got. The more he took things out on her. She’d lost much interest in eating. Food gave her little pleasure lately.
But she didn’t have the heart to argue–or to continue to complain about being carried.
After a moment, she resigned herself to the indignity of being returned home like a package and leaned her head against Cameron’s chest.
It was very warm and very solid. She closed her eyes and felt the sun hot on her face.
This was very much like joy. If she forced herself to shut out everything but him, it was pure joy.
She imagined what it would be like to wake up next to Cameron each morning. To see him at the breakfast table. To explore his estate in Scotland and meet his friends. To be the laird’s wife, giving gifts to his no doubt many tenants. To hear stories about him from people who loved and respected him.
He was a great man. Anyone could see that. He exuded a sense of calm command.
He was the opposite of John, who only longed to be such a person.
She shut out thoughts of John and instead imagined dancing with Cameron at a ball. He’d wear a kilt, of course. Traditional Scottish garb. She’d once seen him in a kilt at a wedding they’d both attended in the village near her home. He’d looked so fine in the brilliant blue and green plaid.
She recalled some people had murmured that he wore the dress of a barbarian. But June didn’t think so. She thought the plaid looked very masculine on him. He’d seemed like a medieval warrior.
“Did you bring a kilt?” she asked drowsily. “There’ll be dancing. At the party.”
There was wry amusement in his voice when he answered. “There’ll be nay dancing for ye tonight, lassie.”
“Not tonight, no,” she tried to assure him. “Tomorrow. We have planned it for tomorrow. Just a little dance. Not a ball, mind you. Not a fancy dress ball.”
She could feel herself slipping away. Sleep was beckoning. Her eyelids were so heavy.
“Aye,” she heard him say from a distance. “Aye, I brought a kilt.”
She had fallen completely asleep in his arms.
Cameron looked down at her peaceful face and thought of what it would be like to lay beside June at night. He would stroke her soft skin, kiss those cheeks. If she woke up, he would hold her close, make love to her if she wished. They would whisper in the dark, laughing and talking, telling stories and sharing their dreams and hopes for the future. He would read to her and do all the voices–she had always loved that.
But what was the point of imagining what could never be, he scolded himself. She was wed and he would soon be gone.
They reached the manor.
The duke gave terse instructions to the shocked butler and footmen who greeted them at the door.
The countess had fallen into the lake and nearly drowned, he explained. She must be carried to her room and put to bed with warm blankets and not be disturbed by anyone.
Cameron had been thinking only trying to keep the earl away but now he ruefully amended his instructions. A physician should be summoned as quickly as possible to check on the countess, he told the butler.
He insisted on carrying June to her room himself, ignoring the servants’ exchange of glances.
A maid scurried ahead and anxiously held the door open.
He stepped into June’s room and paused, realizing he was entering her own private sanctuary. The room was bright and tastefully decorated, with drapery and bedclothes in pale shades of blue and gold. On one wall, a collection of framed botanical prints had been carefully curated, showcasing June”s love of nature.
Placing June carefully on the bed, he stepped back to let the maid fuss over her. Immediately the woman began arranging blankets and pillows.
He glanced around once more. On a side table by the windows, a stack of books sat beside a silver locket that had been left out. He frowned and stepped over for a closer look. It was just as he’d thought. The locket had a Scotch thistle engraved upon it. He had given it to June when she was seventeen years old. Even then… they had known.
So, she had kept it all this time. Even before their foray to the lake, she had been looking at it, touching it, contemplating it.
When he came back downstairs, the hunting party was just returning.
The earl stood to one side, a frown on his face as his butler spoke hurriedly in a low voice beside him.
As the duke descended, the earl glanced up. His frown deepened. He stepped away from the rest of the group.
“I understand the countess accompanied you to the lake today,” he said to Cameron.
“Aye, she did. An accident befell her while she was under my care. For that I’m truly sorry.”
“Perhaps we should discuss this away from the other guests,” the earl suggested. His expression remained displeased.
“Aye, a fine idea.”
He followed the earl into his study. The other man immediately took up a place behind his desk and leaned back in a high wooden chair.
This was fine with Cameron. He would rather remain standing. He shut the door firmly behind himself and came over to the desk.
Cameron opened his mouth to speak, already anticipating a clash of words and wishing it might be a clash of fists, but the earl was quicker.
“Would you care to change your story?” the Earl of Windermere asked.
“I beg yer pardon?”
“Your story about the lake and what befell my wife. Would you care to change it before it’s too late?”
“Too late?” Cameron narrowed his eyes. “Ye make it sound as if it were a fable, mon. ‘Tis no story. Yer wife fell into the lake and was nearly drowned.” He stiffened. “I apologize for my carelessness. She stood up to try to pluck some apples and before I could stop her, fell over the side.”
“Ah, I see.” The earl clasped his hands together. “A convenient tale. Yet my butler tells me that a servant saw the two of you embracing rather passionately at the lake earlier this afternoon. How does that fit in with this story you’ve concocted?”
Cameron’s heart sped up. “A servant?”
“Yes. Will you deny it? Did you lay hands on my wife?” The earl leaned forward, his eyes angry, yes, but hungry, too. Clearly he planned to make something of the situation. Turn it to his own advantage.
The irony of the moment was not lost on Cameron.
The earl was the one who had, as he so put it, “laid hands” on June. Yet here it was Cameron being interrogated.
That said, there was no denying that Cameron had done something wrong. Not only had he put June in harm’s way but he had indeed embraced her passionately.
“Where did the servant see this?” he inquired, searching for a way to spare June’s reputation. “What exactly was said?”
The earl looked a little impatient. “What does it matter? The man says he saw you and my wife in the rowboat and your lips were upon hers…”
“Aha!” Cameron felt a surge of relief. “Then the man is telling the truth.”
The earl rose to his feet. “I’m sorry to hear it.” And yet, there was something rather eager in his face that Cameron could not pinpoint.
Did the man mean to blackmail him, Cameron suddenly wondered?
“I did embrace yer wife,” Cameron went on, ignoring the earl’s comment. “But not in the way yer servant must think.”
The earl frowned. “Oh?”
“Nay. ‘Twas not an embrace of passion the man witnessed but rather my attempt to save yer wife’s life.”
When the earl still simply stared, Cameron clarified. “She wasna breathing when I pulled her from the lake, ye see. Have ye not read the advice for what to do for victims of drownings?”
The earl crossed his arms. “I admit, I have not. I have had little cause to do so,” he said pointedly.
“Aye, I suppose not,” Cameron acknowledged. “Nevertheless, ye are to try to blow air back into the person’s body. This is what I was doing when it seems yer servant spotted me. Yer wife was not even aware of what was being done to her. She was limp in my arms.”
“And? Did it work?”
“Did it work?” Cameron was aghast. “Obviously it worked, mon. Why, she’s upstairs now resting. Of course, it worked.”
The earl frowned. “She’s truly not aware of what you did?”
Cameron shook his head. “She came to with a cough and a sputter. I wasna about to inform her I’d had to take indignities with her person after she’d gone through such a horrid ordeal now, was I?”
“I suppose not.” The earl seemed almost disappointed.
But now that Cameron had come out of their first verbal exchange unscathed, he was ready for the next part of it.
“Yer wife was wearing a white dress on the outing,” he said.
“Yes? She often wears white,” the earl said absently. He was rising from his seat. “Perhaps while you’re here, Your Grace, we might speak of that other matter. The investment I wished to catch your ear on.”
“Ye’d best sit down again,” Cameron instructed. “We’re not through discussing yer wife, ye see.”
The earl scowled. “Her dress? Is that what you wish to discuss?”
“Not her dress, nay. But what was under it.” He flushed. “What I mean to say is, when she came out of the lake,, her dress was… well, it had fallen off one shoulder.”
Ah, he could see the earl tense up. The man had already taken his meaning.
Cameron moved closer to the desk and resting his palms on it, leaned over the earl. “I saw the bruises. The welts. The marks.”
“Bruises? Welts? Good gracious! On my wife, you say?” The earl was doing his best to look astonished.
“Dinna bother, mon.” Cameron was disgusted. “Dinna pretend ye dinna know what I’m speaking of. Bloody hell, but men such as ye are all the same. Ye think ye’re so clever. That ye’re hiding it so well.” He leaned further over the desk, his face nearing the earl’s. “But yer evil deeds are plain to see. Ye beat the lass. The woman ye swore to care for and protect. Ye speak of me laying my hands on her in passion, but before me I see a man who strikes a woman in the heat and passion of anger, like one might do an animal. Nay, even an animal should never be struck so.”
The earl was shrinking back into his chair a little. Good. Let the man shrink.
Cameron stood up to his full height.
“Will ye deny it?”
“What if I did?” the earl said, his expression wary. “What would you do?”
“I’m not sure I’d be able to resist dragging ye outside and beating ye within an inch of yer life,” Cameron said forthrightly. “Before all yer guests. Not the sort of entertainment they’d be expecting, now would it?”
The earl’s face flushed red.
Cameron shook his head. “But nay, that’s what I’d like to do. But what I’d have to do, as a man of honor, is demand we settle things the only way men can when it comes to such a thing.”
“And that is?” the earl demanded, beads of sweat popping up on his brow.
“A duel, of course. Swords or pistols. The sooner the better. Does dawn tomorrow suit ye? Or perhaps sunset this evening? I care not for the time.”
“Wait just a moment now,” the earl said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t say I was denying it.”
“Oh, ye didna?” the duke said politely. “And here I thought ye were telling me ye weren’t the man who beat June.”
The earl looked understandably confused. That was because, Cameron thought with satisfaction, he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
He leaned over the earl’s desk again. “Let me put it to ye straight, Windermere. From here on out, ye should think of me as yer wife’s guardian.”
“Guardian?”
“Aye. She has nay others, does she? The lass’s father is dead. She has no brothers. So aye, her only living guardian. We grew up as neighbors, did she nay tell ye that? Thus, I’m taking up an honorary position. The lady didna ask me to, mind. I’m doing it because…” He paused. “Because ‘tis the only gentlemanly thing to do.” As he said the words, he knew they were true. Even if the woman involved had been Mrs. Pembroke, he’d be bound to do the same. “And as yer wife’s guardian, ye should also think of me as a protector.”
“I believe that’s a husband’s duty,” the earl said stiffly.
“Aye, it is, isn’t it?” Cameron said sardonically. “But ye havena been doing a very good job of it, now have ye? I’d say the task should be taken from ye, ye swill.”
The harsh truth, of course, was that June had little recourse outside of what Cameron was threatening to do. A single woman had more right to legal protections than a married one. There were no laws to stop a man from beating his wife–or his children.
The earl must have been thinking much the same thing.
“In the eyes of the law, I’ve done nothing wrong,” he pointed out, with a gleam in his eyes that Cameron longed to knock out with his fist.
“Aye, in the eyes of the law,” Cameron replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But in the eyes of God, ye certainly have. Do unto others as ye would have done to ye.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s also the part where ye swore to love her, comfort her, and honor her. Oh, and let us nay forget about the bit about forsaking all others and keeping only unto her.”
The earl shifted uncomfortably.
“Aye, squirm all ye like, Windermere. Yer sins are plain to see,” Cameron said with grim satisfaction. “Ye parade yer mistress out before yer guests. Have ye no shame, mon?”
“I don’t see how it has anything to do with you,” the earl said, clearly trying to muster his dignity.
“It has to do with yer wife and her honor and as ye’ll recall…”
“Yes, yes, you’re now her guardian.” The earl waved a hand. “Ridiculous.”
“Shall we get back to arranging our duel then?” Cameron suggested.
The earl paled. “I’d prefer…”
“Aye, ye’d prefer not. Bloody coward. Verra well. Then let us come to plain terms. One ye’ll understand.” This was the moment Cameron had been waiting for. “Ye’ll nay lay a hand on June again. From now until the end of eternity. Do ye understand me? If I hear that ye have done so, I swear to ye that ye won’t like what happens next.”
The earl was trying his best not to look disconcerted. “And as for my mistress?”
Cameron shook his head in disgust. “I dinna care about the woman. Ye have children with her, nay? It’s clear ye have no conscience. No sense of decency. Or ye would not bring her into yer home or near yer wife. But ‘tis not my business.”
“Oh, it isn’t?” Now it was the earl’s turn to sound sarcastic. “I’m surprised.”
“Dinna jest with me,” Cameron snapped, slamming his hands down on the desk. The earl flinched. “It isna my business… yet. Not unless it concerns yer wife’s safety. Now, do ye understand me well enough? Do ye swear not to lay hands on her again?” He was forced to clarify and this sickened him. “In anger. To harm.”
“I understand perfectly well, Your Grace,” the earl replied. “Very well. Yes, I will swear to abide by your terms.”
Cameron nearly smiled.
“On one condition.”
Cameron scowled. “And what’s that?”
“That you will invest in the mining operation I have planned for this estate. With your financial support, I feel certain we can unlock considerable prosperity for both of our estates.”
Cameron hadn’t thought his opinion of the Earl of Windermere could sink any lower.
“Become yer primary backer, ye mean? For ye have nay others, do ye?”
The earl shook his head. “Not yet. But once you’ve signed onto the venture, I’ll undoubtedly be able to convince more to do so.”
“Ye’ll use the Tulloch name to lure people into yer scheme, ye mean.”
“Not lure. Persuade, if you will. This is a ripe investment opportunity and once people see you’ve confidence in me…”
“I dinna.”
“Well, in the venture then,” the earl said smoothly. “They’ll be… reassured. I have no doubt.”
“Aye.” Cameron understood very well.
“Of course, if you’d rather decline,” the earl said. “Then, while it’s rather old-fashioned, I suppose we can make it a duel to the death at dawn if you’d rather prefer. Pistols would be my choice.”
Cameron eyed the earl. His voice was even. He’d chosen pistols, just as June had said he would.
“Dinna tempt me, mon,” was all Cameron said in the end. “Fine. I’ll invest in yer enterprise. And ye’ll swear to take better care of yer wife.”
“I certainly will,” the earl said solemnly. “I’ve been exceedingly remiss and I thank you for pointing it out. I owe June a sincere apology.”
It took everything Cameron had not to slap the man silly.
“Save yer apologies. Just dinna touch her like that again.”
The earl nodded. “Now, as for the rest of the house party…”
“Aye?”
“I’m sure my wife will prefer to rest this evening. After all, as you’ve explained, she’s been through quite an ordeal.”
“Aye, she has.”
“But after tonight, I’m sure she’ll resume her place in the center of things. And when she does, you’ll stay far away from her.”
Cameron felt he had remained fairly even-keeled up until this point but now he lost his head.
“I’ll do nay bloody thing,” he said bluntly. “When it comes to yer wife, I’ll do whatever I want. Ye’ve seen the column, havena ye? I said yer mistress was none of my business. Ye’ve broken yer marriage vows but that part of things is none of my concern. But neither will I respect yer marriage when ye have so little respect for it yerself. While I am here, I’ll speak with or spend as much time with yer wife as I please or as much as she pleases. And ye’ll mind yer own damned business if ye know what’s good for ye.”
And then, before the earl had a chance to even respond, Cameron stormed out of the room.