Chapter 10
Ewan wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned his pick against the cliffside. In the week since they’d left Glasgow, his shoulder had mostly healed. Mostly. Using it hurt like the devil and he was likely doing it more harm than good, but he’d run out of ways to avoid his grandmother inside the castle.
Tristan leaned his own pick next to Ewan’s, slumping to the ground with a curse. “How did we get stuck with this shit job? You’re an earl, and I’m going to be in management. We shouldn’t be fixing cliff trails.”
“Management?”
“I’m going to manage the business.”
“Yer sister is going to manage the business, if she can get that pack of pathetic criminals in line, which I doubt.”
“She’ll do it. But she’s a woman. She can’t be in management,” Tristan said with great certainty.
“Why’s that?”
“Everyone knows men do the managing.”
Ewan grinned. “Tristan, I’m going to let ye in on a secret. Someday, women are going to rule the world if they dinnae already.”
“Bollocks.”
“Who runs yer life?”
“I do.”
“Oh, aye? Why aren’t ye in Glasgow then, gambling and whoring?”
Tristan thought about that. “That’s different, though.”
“How so?”
“It’s Dee. She’s . . . it’s complicated.”
“It always is.” Ewan pulled Tristan back up, handing him a pick. “And to answer yer question, we volunteered for it.”
“We did? Why the bloody hell would we do that?”
“Well, I need to keep my shoulder limber and you need to put some muscle on.”
“Oi.”
Ewan laughed. “Ye’ll thank me later. Physical work balances the humors.”
He could use some balanced humors right about now. As he swung the pick, widening the path down to the beach below, conflicting emotions moved in and out of his thoughts with the pulsing ache in his shoulder. How could he even describe what was between him and Deidre? If he weren’t an educated man, he’d be tempted to accuse her of witchcraft. She played hell on his body and his mind whether she was near him or not.
Then there was Rose. If he’d known she was here . . . how could he not have known? Ewan had grown up with his grandfather’s ward, the only child his own age. They’d been inseparable—right up until Ewan had left for Dalreoch Castle. Left her behind, in this hellhole full of monsters. Had he even thought about her after the first few weeks?
As if thinking about her had summoned her, Ewan’s childhood friend appeared at the top of the cliff with a bucket.
“Thirsty?” Rose called down.
“Oh, thank Christ.” Tristan dropped his pick and made his way up the few feet of trail they’d finished improving.
Ewan saw Rose flinch at the profanity, but her welcoming smile stayed firmly in place.
“Thank ye,” he said when she handed him the ladle.
“It’s no trouble.”
“Still, it’s a bit of a walk from the house.”
“Oh, I dinnae mind.” She gave Ewan a shy smile. “I’m afraid I’m nae much use up there at the moment.”
“What’s Dee got them doing?” Tristan asked, splashing water over his head.
“She, um, well . . .” She fidgeted with the bucket and the edge of her dress.
Ewan sat on one of the craggy rocks that lined the cliff’s edge. “It’s all right. Ye’ll nae shock either of us.”
“She was instructing them in how to tell the difference between men who can be bought, men who can be blackmailed, and men who must be avoided,” Rose imparted with a furrowed brow.
Tristan nodded. “Don’t need anybody getting pinched if we can help it.”
“Ewan, can we . . .” Rose cast a sideways glance at Tristan.
“Tris, why dinnae ye head up and see if yer sister needs help.”
The boy didn’t need to be asked twice. He took off up the hill without a backward glance.
Rose perched near Ewan on the rocks once Tris was out of earshot. She peered down over the edge of the cliff. “I havnae been out here in years.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “Ye asked me to marry ye out on this cliff. Do ye remember?”
“I do. I remember ye called me a clod head and turned me down.”
“Ye were a clod head. Ye were practically my brother.”
“I was four,” Ewan defended. “If ye remember, I’d also asked my mother to marry me that same day.”
His mother. Remembering her sent pain through his gut like fire. He pushed it down and pushed her out of his mind.
“Ye did, dinnae ye.” Rose smiled down at her hands. They tangled in her skirts as she came to the reason she’d wanted Tristan away. “Are ye certain this smuggling business is the best idea?”
“Certain? No, but it’s nae a bad one.”
“Couldnae ye just . . . restore the farms? Get the tenants back?” She sounded hopeful.
It was a nice idea, but not a realistic one. “It would take years before the land would yield crops we could sell for a profit. And tenants need a lord to manage them.”
“But yer back now. I’m sure ye could—”
Ewan cringed. This wasn’t the place or time he would have chosen for this conversation, but he couldn’t lie to her. “I’m nae staying, Rose.”
“Oh.”
He rushed to reassure her. “I’ll nae leave ye behind. Ye’ll come with me. Ye can stay at Dalreoch or we can find ye a husband.”
Her laugh rippled out over the rocks. “A husband. I’m two and thirty, Ewan. Even if I were younger, I’m nae exactly—”
“Nonsense. There’s plenty of men would have ye.”
She shook her head. “No. Besides, this is my home.”
“It’s nae place for a woman, Rose. Ye cannae stay here.”
“Mr. Darrow isnae so bad. He pretends to be some famous criminal, but Iona wouldnae have brought him here if he was a danger.”
“I’m nae about to lay bets on my grandmother’s judge of character,” Ewan spat. “And neither should ye. Nae when it’s yer life being used as the stakes.”
Rose flinched at his tone, but she didn’t back down. “Miss Morgan is staying. I heard them talking about it.”
He cursed under his breath. “That’s nae a certainty.”
“But she might. Ye would let her.”
“Deidre is . . .” He kept finding himself in this same spot, trying to explain who and what Deidre was to him.
Rose covered his forearm with her hand. “She’s yer mistress. It’s all right, Ewan.”
“That’s nae—”
“I may nae have married, but I’m nae blind, Ewan. I saw ye.”
“Aye. I willnae deny what ye saw. But it’s . . . complicated.”
They sat in awkward silence for a long moment, the ocean air ruffling the edges of their clothing.
“She’s very beautiful,” Rose said eventually. “Stunning, actually. I dinnae think I’ve ever seen a woman so pretty.”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He and Rose had been raised like brother and sister, but he wasn’t in the habit of discussing his bed partners with anyone, never mind family he hadn’t seen in nearly twenty-five years. Still, after leaving her behind, he owed her far more than an uncomfortable conversation. If she wanted to talk about Deidre, the least he could do was try.
“Aye,” Ewan said. It was the only response he could manage.
“Ye seemed to be . . . enjoying her company, when I saw ye.”
Ewan pondered the distance to the beach. It couldn’t be more than a few hundred feet. He might make it if he jumped. “Aye.”
Rose fidgeted. “What I mean to say . . . I don’t judge ye for it. Ye dinnae need to be ashamed, Ewan. I ken men have needs.”
“What kind of a thing is that to say!” Ewan jumped up and started pacing the cliff’s edge. It wasn’t something a woman in Rose’s position should be familiar with. He was right to want her to leave Broch Murdo. Darrow and his men weren’t proper company for a lady.
“Ewan, calm down.”
“Have ye—did someone . . .” Whoever had introduced her to the needs of men, Ewan would murder the bastard. He would rip him limb from limb. He should never have left her behind. This was entirely his fault. How many ways would he discover he’d failed her?
“Ewan, stop! Yer frightening me.”
He realized he had grabbed Rose’s arm. He let it go instantly. “I’m sorry. Ye should go back to the castle.”
She nodded, picking up her bucket and fleeing back toward safety.
Ewan waited for her to disappear from view. Once he was certain she couldn’t hear him, he turned to the ocean and yelled until he had no voice left. It wasn’t enough. He could still feel the rage that reminded him exactly where he came from. Exactly who his father was. Exactly the sort of monster he struggled not to become.
***
“Dee?”
“Hmm?” Deidre didn’t look up from the maps she was comparing. One was from the castle’s library. The other she’d had a local fisherman sketch for her. There were some very interesting discrepancies.
“Dee.”
“What do you need, Tris?” This time she did look.
Her brother was standing in the doorway. Rose was standing with him. Oh.
Rose fidgeted. “I’m sorry to bother ye, I just—”
“I didn’t realize you were—” Deidre started to say.
They both stopped.
“Why don’t you go first?” Deidre suggested.
The other woman stepped into Deidre’s bedroom, looking around with curiosity. “I havnae been in here since . . .”
Deidre realized she wasn’t going to finish the sentence on her own. “Since?”
The prompt seemed to startle Rose. “In a long time.”
Was she being deliberately coy? Deidre didn’t have time for whatever game this was. “Is there something wrong with this room?”
“No. Of course nae.”
Well, that was comforting. And utterly unconvincing.
Deidre would have to get to the bottom of that later, but she’d be damned if it would be with Ewan’s childhood crush. Not that Ewan’s earlier actions were Rose’s fault. Ewan was responsible for his own idiotic behavior. Deidre resolved to remember that, and not let it affect how she treated the other woman.
“Did you need me for something?” she asked as nicely as she was able.
“Oh.” Rose straightened her skirts. “I was wondering . . . if ye’ve seen Ewan.”
Deidre didn’t expect to have her resolution tested quite so immediately. “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh.”
Silence filled the room. Deidre waited. For the love of— “Should I have?”
“I just thought . . .”
This was going to take forever. “Miss Lambert. I’m happy to help you however I can, but—”
“We fought. I made him angry,” Rose confessed in a rush.
“You fought?” Deidre had difficulty believing the well-mannered Rose had ever raised her voice, or that Ewan would do anything other than apologize profusely if she did. “What did you fight about?”
The other woman’s gaze dropped to the carpet. Her cheeks flushed scarlet. “It was a personal matter.”
Interesting. And they’d argued about it? This day was full of mysteries to be solved. “Did you ask Angus?”
“Him? Oh no. I couldnae.”
Why the devil not?
“But no one saw him come back from the cliff, and he’s nae in his room,” Rose finished.
That was concerning. Cliffsides weren’t notorious for their safety, and it had been dark for an hour or more. Ewan was probably holed up somewhere composing a sonnet to Rose’s flawless virginity, but it was worth looking into. If the big idiot went and got himself killed, Deidre’s whole plan was ruined.
“Tris,” she called.
Her brother popped his head around the door frame. She knew he hadn’t gone far. Tris could never resist the opportunity to overhear something he shouldn’t.
“Find Angus,” she ordered. “And quit eavesdropping!”
His response—undoubtedly vulgar—was lost as he loped off down the hall.
“I should go,” Rose said, trying to follow him.
“Stay. If Ewan is actually missing, Angus will need to talk to you.”
“Oh,” Rose said. “All right.”
Deidre tried to return to her maps, but the other woman was just standing in place, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. Eventually, Deidre took pity on her. “I’m sure Ewan feels badly for whatever happened between you.”
Rose nodded. “It wasnae his fault. He cannae help it.”
Can’t help what? There were far too many questions here. Attraction and gratitude had sent Deidre rushing into a situation she knew nothing about—a lesson she thought she’d learned once already with Alastair. Clearly, getting the lay of the land would have to move to the top of her list of priorities.
Deidre leaned against the table. “I’m surprised Ewan’s grandmother let Darrow take over the castle. She doesn’t seem the type.”
Rose nodded. “She was desperate. I dinnae think she would have if Tom wasnae . . . so easy to manage.”
“He is that.” Far more so than the real Lord Broch Murdo. “How is the dowager handling her grandson’s return?”
“She is . . . unsettled.” Rose chose her words carefully. “Ewan looks a great deal like his father, and Iona cared very deeply for her son.”
“I imagine that could be quite a shock, especially since she wasn’t expecting him.”
“Aye.”
Deidre followed a hunch that had been developing since Rose first appeared in Ewan’s room. “It’s odd that whoever wrote Ewan didn’t tell the dowager they were contacting him.”
Rose’s expression froze momentarily. Her fingers buried themselves in the folds of her skirt. “Aye.”
It was fortunate Rose would never need to support herself at a card table—if she hadn’t written the letter herself, she knew who had. Deidre would leave that discovery to Ewan, though. It would take all of two seconds for him to discover the identity of his anonymous author if his wits were about him. A rather large if, if his behavior when Rose interrupted them was any indication.
The appearance of Angus kept Deidre from taking further advantage of Rose’s abysmal poker face.
“I told yer brother, and I’ll tell ye—I’m nae at yer beck and call.”
“Miss Lambert thinks Ewan threw himself off the cliff in a fit of pique.”
Rose paled. “I said no such thing.”
“They argued. He’s missing. Suicide seems a more charitable assumption than murder.”
A choked sound escaped Rose. The remaining color drained from her.
Angus’s flat stare alternated between the two of them.
It was too much for Rose. She fled from the room in a flurry of skirts.
Deidre and Angus watched her exit with confused interest.
“What do you suppose that was about?”
“No idea.” Angus’s ability to lie was infinitely better than Rose’s, but still not as good as Deidre’s instincts. Yet another secret to unravel. “The lad’s really missing?”
“Apparently. I haven’t seen him, but I’ve been contemplating coast lines all evening.”
Angus nodded thoughtfully. “There’s nae many places he’d go. If he’s under his own power, he’s outside. Ye start on the cliffs. I’ve a few places in the castle to look.”
How did Deidre end up getting roped into this? “If he’s under his own power, shouldn’t we leave him be?”
“Ye sent for me. I came. If ye wanted to leave him be, ye should have left me be.”
“I—” Damn it all. It served her right. Nothing good ever came of helping people. She should have minded her own business and let Rose solve her own problems.
Deidre didn’t want to see Ewan. She needed to find a way to ignore the attraction that flared up between them first.
“Come on then,” Angus said at the door.
Damn it all.