Chapter 14

 

After that turbulent scene in the library, Brody didn’t sleep a wink. He hadn’t suffered a restless night over a female since those adolescent days when he’d been head over heels in love with Polly Macrae. If a week ago, someone had told him that the next woman to torment his nights would be Hamish’s mousy sister, he’d have laughed in their face.

By God, he wasn’t laughing now.

In fact, as he came downstairs in the dark, with the hope of catching Elspeth at breakfast, he had the strangest conviction that his sole chance of happiness depended on persuading this stubborn, unusual, gorgeous girl that she must marry him. Even more lowering for a man credited as a devil with the ladies, he was far from convinced that he would prevail.

As he’d expected and despite the early hour, Elspeth sat alone in the morning room, staring into a cup of tea with a disconsolate expression. A slice of toast sat untouched on a plate near her elbow. Brody paused in the doorway and took stock of what he saw, struggling to work out the best approach.

The lassie looked deathly sad. How else would she look? Because he’d been a selfish blockhead all his life, he’d lured her to take risks with her good name. Now she was exiled from her family and reviled as a light skirt. Last night, he’d burned to protect her from every attack. She’d rejected his every effort as too little, too late.

Devil take her, it was worse than that. She’d rejected him.

Her terse denial still stung like acid. He’d never asked a woman to marry him before. When he did, he’d never imagined his choice would have the temerity to say no. While he’d been angry last night, beneath his anger, he’d been hurt. And shocked—which said far too much about his conceit.

The unbelievable had happened. Elspeth had refused to marry him. Not all the haranguing and blandishments in the world had shifted her from that decision. He’d spent all night, not just regretting her response, but examining his soul. And finding it sadly wanting.

Until these last months, he hadn’t been much in the habit of self-reflection. Like most young men of acceptable manners and appearance, not to mention large fortune, he received a warm welcome wherever he went. He’d never found any particular reason to question the general opinion that Brody Girvan was a fine fellow.

But he’d had an unhappy year. Finding the woman he wanted had made him hope that his life might start heading in the right direction. But it turned out that woman didn’t want him.

Once he’d left Fergus, he’d stood at his bedroom window, staring out over the snowy hills of Achnasheen, and facing up to the unwelcome truth that Brody Girvan wasn’t such a fine fellow after all.

He was selfish, and self-indulgent, and inclined to believe the world was ordered purely for his pleasure. Most people who met him never probed far enough beneath his debonair shell to discover the darker elements. Yet now he knew that his three closest friends harbored doubts about his character. Hamish, Diarmid and Fergus believed that while he might make a braw companion for a night’s carousing, he wasn’t worthy of Elspeth’s hand.

That had hurt, but not as much as Elspeth Douglas had hurt him, when those assessing brown eyes had penetrated through to the vacuum in his soul. She’d been adamant that she wouldn’t have him as her husband, even if the marriage restored her good name and her place in her family.

Yet while he knew that she was better off without him, Brody couldn’t stop wanting her. He’d never longed for anyone the way he longed for Elspeth, while she’d decided he didn’t deserve her time or affection.

Desolation and self-hatred left a cold, rusty taste on his tongue, as he now surveyed the woman who had brought him to his knees. The view wasn’t encouraging.

She’d dragged her hair back from her face in the familiar, severe style—no seductive tumble of mahogany curls today. She wore an old brown dress that Marina mustn’t have thought worth altering. It was plain that his wee wren had decided that she wanted to sink back into the shadows where she was safe.

But it was too late for her to hide away. Brody had seen her flaring beauty. He’d seen it, even before she decided to share it with the world. Elspeth Douglas would never again fade into the background, no matter how she tortured her hair or buttoned her collars up to her stubborn chin.

He sucked in a broken breath, nervous as a schoolboy approaching his first love, and stepped through the door. When she raised heavy eyes to observe him, the lack of welcome in her expression might daunt a laddie less determined.

The lamplight revealed signs of crying. Her pink eyelids and woebegone features made him sick with guilt. He’d set out to make this bonny girl happy, and all he’d done was cause her grief.

“Good morning, Elspeth,” he said in a somber voice.

“Good morning, Brody,” she said no more brightly. Looking hunted, she stood up when he dared to venture closer. “You’re early this morning.”

“No’ as early as you.”

“I had trouble sleeping.”

He already knew that because of the purple shadows under her eyes. “So did I.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, edging out from behind the table. “Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t shift to let her past. “I need to talk to ye.”

Her slender white hands performed a nervous dance in the air. “I’d rather leave you to eat in peace.”

“Thanks to you, I haven’t known a moment’s peace since I got to Achnasheen,” he said grimly. “I’m here because I knew this was the one chance I’ll have to get ye alone.”

Something that looked like panic crossed Elspeth’s face, and she retreated a shaky step. “This is an ambush.”

He frowned, not sure what he could do to make her listen. “Aye, if ye like.”

She squared her shoulders and took up a belligerent stance familiar from last night, when she’d been intransigent about not wanting to marry him. He was in such a low state that this felt like an improvement. Her defiance was preferable to her fear. “I don’t like.”

“Too bad.” He gestured for her to sit down again. “I willnae take much of your time. Ye owe me that much.”

She leveled a hostile glare at him from under lowered eyebrows a darker brown than her luxuriant hair. He wondered whether she would insist on going. If she did, what could he do? Tying her to the chair was unlikely to promote his cause.

To his relief, she released an annoyed sigh and sank back into her chair.

“Thank you.” Brody crossed to the sideboard. “Would ye like some coffee?”

Her hands curled around the arms of her chair, and her answer was snappish. “I’d like you to say whatever you feel you need to, so that I can go back to my bedroom.”

“And hide?”

“Don’t I have reason?”

“I dinnae think so.” He brought two cups back to the table, although she hadn’t said she wanted one. “What we did wasnae that bad.”

“Mamma thinks it was.”

He sat down opposite her. “If you dinnae mind my saying so, Lady Glen Lyon seemed to enjoy the theatrics of it all.”

To his surprise, the corners of her lips deepened in a ghost of a smile. He’d wondered if she’d ever smile at him again. “I don’t mind you saying so at all. It’s true. I’m hoping this morning, that she’s thought better of banishing me from the Douglas fold. I suspect she’ll sulk for a couple of days and cast a pall over everyone’s Christmas, before she decides that things aren’t as dire as she thought.”

“She sounded pretty convincing when she disowned ye.”

“Yes. But as you say, our crime wasn’t so heinous. Given any scandal will stay within the family and only Marina saw the worst of it, I’m sure Mamma will come to terms with a scarlet woman for a daughter.”

He gave a grunt of disagreement. “You’re no’ a scarlet woman.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a fool.”

The bitter little admission revived his scowl. “What in Hades does that mean?”

She slid the fresh cup of coffee in front of her and stared down at it with the same discontentment she’d directed at her tea. “It means I should have known better than to think I could have a brief and harmless flirtation with a handsome man, without suffering any nasty consequences.”

Brody inhaled through his teeth, as the sting in her comment found its target. “Are ye saying marrying me counts as a nasty consequence?”

Slowly she raised her eyes to study him. “Aren’t you?”

“No, by heaven, I’m not. I want to marry ye.”

The smile that twisted her lips astonished him, and made him feel sick to the stomach. It was calm and jaded and utterly joyless. “That’s gallant of you, Brody.”

“For God’s sake, lassie, I’m nae being gallant. I mean it.”

Her eyebrows rose at his fervor. “Then you’re not thinking straight. We’d be terrible together.”

“We weren’t terrible when we kissed.”

“That’s because you’re very good at kissing.” She’d been pale when he came in, but now a faint pink tinged her cheeks, reminding him of the rosy, passionate creature in his arms last night. “It’s not because of anything I did.”

“You show great promise for a beginner.” More than promise. Her burgeoning passion had sent him up in flames. God help him when she got a bit of expertise under her belt.

“Thank you, but a few kisses are no basis for a lifetime together.”

Despite the fraught moment, her prim response made him smile. “Och, we have more than that.”

“No, we don’t,” Elspeth said, with a bleak finality that made his heart shrivel to the size of a pebble.

“I like ye.” He knew the moment called for a stronger declaration, but under that steady brown gaze, his courage failed him.

“I like you, too. But I don’t want to be the woman you’re forced to marry.”

“I’d planned to ask ye to marry me before last night.”

For a moment, Brody wondered if his confession might sway her. The brief spark in her eyes faded, and she shook her head with a weary tolerance that made him want to smash his cousin’s expensive porcelain breakfast service to dust. “You’re being kind again.”

“No, I’m not. It’s true.”

How the hell was he making such a mull of this? He’d always thought he had a way with the lassies. Elspeth had liked him enough to kiss him. Why the deuce didn’t she like him enough to marry him?

“Then thank you,” she murmured.

“Does that mean you’ll say yes?” he asked without much hope.

“No, it doesn’t. We have nothing in common. I’m a quiet little mouse, and you’re a sophisticated man of the world. I’d bore you to tears before the ink dried on the marriage lines. Don’t be fooled by Marina and Sandra’s handiwork. I’m still Hamish’s dull little sister.”

“I never thought of ye that way.”

More bitterness twisted her lips. “You never thought of me at all.”

Perhaps there was some truth in that. But couldn’t she see that he’d changed? Only now as he noted her closed expression did he truly accept that he’d failed. She wasn’t going to be his.

And he’d never wanted anything more.

His large hands closed into fists on the polished mahogany table. “Are you trying to say I’m no’ good enough for ye?”

Her eyes widened. “Brody…”

He could no longer bear to sit still and pretend this was a polite discussion and not the end of every dream he’d built around her during the last days. When he surged to his feet, he shoved the chair back hard enough to send it toppling over with a thud.

“You’re right. I’m not good enough.” His voice was rough with the force of his emotion. “But if ye marry me, I swear I’ll do my damnedest to make myself worthy of you.”

She looked startled. “I’m…I’m flattered.”

He made a sweeping gesture of dismissal. “I dinnae want you to be bloody flattered. I want ye to say you’ll marry me.”

That stubborn line returned to her chin, although he could swear he saw genuine distress in her eyes. He supposed she wouldn’t like hurting him. “I can’t say that.”

“Aye, you can.”

“In that case, I won’t.” With a shaking hand, she refolded the white linen napkin she’d laid beside her plate and stood up. “Please…” Her audible inhalation was the first real sign of vulnerability she’d betrayed. “Please leave it at that, Brody.”

A thousand furious, passionate arguments massed in his throat, but he swallowed them back. They tasted like poison. Last night, he’d accused her family of bullying her, yet now he came close to doing the same. Every second confirmed that he wasn’t worthy of her, and the knowledge threatened to tear his heart to ragged shreds.

“Aye, very well,” he said stiffly, stepping back. He offered her a formal bow, as though they were strangers, and he’d never kissed her, or laughed with her, or nurtured the hope that she might be the woman to lend his ramshackle existence weight and purpose. “Under the circumstances, I wish ye farewell, Miss Douglas.”

Brody didn’t wait for Elspeth to respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and marched out the door, wondering what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his useless life.