thought he would reply, particularly in person, and now she had to eat even more pride. She did not know what to say. Finally, she gathered her wits. “You received my letter.”
“Aye,” he said. “I was away from home when the lad arrived. Or I would have been here sooner.”
He
was apologizing.
“I dinna know who... to turn to,” she stammered. “Everyone”
“You need no‘ explain. I know about your father and brother. I was sorry to hear about them.”
“Why? They were Jacobites.” The bitterness rushed out unheeded. She knew the Braemoor Forbes had fought alongside Cumberland at Culloden.
“They were good men,” he said quietly.
She wanted to believe him, to believe the sincerity she thought she heard beneath the words, but she had believed them once before, and he had wanted only her dowry. How could she believe him now?
Yet he was here, and her body reacted to his presence as it had years earlier. The air was suddenly thick with strong emotion. She felt regret and loss and anger and resentment.
He took a step toward her and raised a hand, caressing her cheek with the back of his fist.
“I had hoped you were still no‘ so bonny.”
“And you, my lord, are still a liar.” ‘Twas a cruel, unwise thrust. But her body was betraying her. So was her heart. She had to do something to force him to step away, or she would throw herself in his arms. And she would never, ever do that again.
He stepped back as a muscle leaped along his tightened jaw. She wondered whether she had just made the biggest mistake of her life in insulting someone she needed so badly. Desperation warred with need, defensiveness with want.
He must have seen the sudden caution in her eyes, because he took a second step back. “I have news,” he said. “I am not sure you will be pleased about it.”
Her heart seemed to stop, then beat harder. “Reginald won his request,” she said flatly, hoping against hope it was not true.
“Nay, but His Grace
has
appointed a guardian.”
Her heart stopped. She did not like the way he said it, as if something worse was coming. She could not imagine anything worse than Reginald gaining legal control, but obviously ... “Who?” she whispered.
He turned away and stared at the fire. His stance was coiled, controlled. She had never known anyone so in control of his emotions, of his every thought. Even ...
“
I
was named guardian of your son,” he said softly.
Janet felt numb for a moment. Stunned. Her stomach roiled. What had she done? She’d exchanged one keeper for another, one thief for another. He had betrayed her once again. How could she have been such a fool? “How could you?” she whispered.
He turned back and his dark eyes met hers. “It was the only way, my lady. I also said I had... an interest in you. Cumberland is not going to let so much land remain under the control of a Jacobite.”
“And I gave you a gift with my letter,” she said bitterly.
“I have no interest in Lochaene,” he said. “None other than to see that it is kept for the rightful heir. I did not mention the letter to His Grace. I merely said my uncle was your father’s friend and would wish me to help.”
“And did he believe that?”
“I doubt it,” he said. “But he wants to insure that the land stays in loyalist hands.”
“
Your
hands.”
“Aye,” he said.
His calm demeanor infuriated her. She wondered why she had ever thought he might help her, why she could trust him.
Desperation
. It had been desperation, plain and simple, and she had delivered herself into his hands. “Your family seems to be uncommonly fortunate in receiving stolen lands,” she said bitterly.
“I have no intention of stealing your lands, or your son’s heritage,” he said. “You trusted me enough to ask for my help. Trust me now.”
“I dinna trust you,” she said bitterly. “I had nowhere else to turn. I had hoped only that you would ask Cumberland to name me legal guardian. No more.
“Aye,” he said. “I was away from home when the lad arrived. Or I would have been here sooner.”
He
was apologizing.
“I dinna know who... to turn to,” she stammered. “Everyone”
“You need no‘ explain. I know about your father and brother. I was sorry to hear about them.”
“Why? They were Jacobites.” The bitterness rushed out unheeded. She knew the Braemoor Forbes had fought alongside Cumberland at Culloden.
“They were good men,” he said quietly.
She wanted to believe him, to believe the sincerity she thought she heard beneath the words, but she had believed them once before, and he had wanted only her dowry. How could she believe him now?
Yet he was here, and her body reacted to his presence as it had years earlier. The air was suddenly thick with strong emotion. She felt regret and loss and anger and resentment.
He took a step toward her and raised a hand, caressing her cheek with the back of his fist.
“I had hoped you were still no‘ so bonny.”
“And you, my lord, are still a liar.” ‘Twas a cruel, unwise thrust. But her body was betraying her. So was her heart. She had to do something to force him to step away, or she would throw herself in his arms. And she would never, ever do that again.
He stepped back as a muscle leaped along his tightened jaw. She wondered whether she had just made the biggest mistake of her life in insulting someone she needed so badly. Desperation warred with need, defensiveness with want.
He must have seen the sudden caution in her eyes, because he took a second step back. “I have news,” he said. “I am not sure you will be pleased about it.”
Her heart seemed to stop, then beat harder. “Reginald won his request,” she said flatly, hoping against hope it was not true.
“Nay, but His Grace
has
appointed a guardian.”
Her heart stopped. She did not like the way he said it, as if something worse was coming. She could not imagine anything worse than Reginald gaining legal control, but obviously ... “Who?” she whispered.
He turned away and stared at the fire. His stance was coiled, controlled. She had never known anyone so in control of his emotions, of his every thought. Even ...
“
I
was named guardian of your son,” he said softly.
Janet felt numb for a moment. Stunned. Her stomach roiled. What had she done? She’d exchanged one keeper for another, one thief for another. He had betrayed her once again. How could she have been such a fool? “How could you?” she whispered.
He turned back and his dark eyes met hers. “It was the only way, my lady. I also said I had... an interest in you. Cumberland is not going to let so much land remain under the control of a Jacobite.”
“And I gave you a gift with my letter,” she said bitterly.
“I have no interest in Lochaene,” he said. “None other than to see that it is kept for the rightful heir. I did not mention the letter to His Grace. I merely said my uncle was your father’s friend and would wish me to help.”
“And did he believe that?”
“I doubt it,” he said. “But he wants to insure that the land stays in loyalist hands.”
“
Your
hands.”
“Aye,” he said.
His calm demeanor infuriated her. She wondered why she had ever thought he might help her, why she could trust him.
Desperation
. It had been desperation, plain and simple, and she had delivered herself into his hands. “Your family seems to be uncommonly fortunate in receiving stolen lands,” she said bitterly.
“I have no intention of stealing your lands, or your son’s heritage,” he said. “You trusted me enough to ask for my help. Trust me now.”
“I dinna trust you,” she said bitterly. “I had nowhere else to turn. I had hoped only that you would ask Cumberland to name me legal guardian. No more.
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