The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie
“What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Early morning.”
Beth grimaced. “Isabella will be worried.”
“She knows I will take care of you.”
“And she might be with Mac.” Beth grinned at him.
“Maybe he’s gone home with her.”
Ian’s look told her he didn’t agree. “Tonight was the first time he’d spoken to her in three years.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“He was very angry when I told him she wanted to go to the casino. I don’t think their reunion will be pleasing.” “You’re a pessimist, Ian. Isabella has been such a dear friend to me, and I want to see her happy again.” “She chose to leave Mac,” Ian pointed out.
“I know. But she regrets it.”
Ian’s body was like a warm wall, his touch amazingly gentle. “When they were married they were either wildly happy or fighting tooth and nail. No in-between.” “I suppose such drama would be tiring.”
Beth could imagine herself deliriously happy with Ian, so happy she couldn’t bear it. She also saw that she could be completely miserable. Her heart had certainly never flip-flopped so much in her life as after she’d met Ian Mackenzie. Ian stroked her hair, and she closed her eyes. How lovely to stay here for always in this bubble of contentment, floating away in quiet happiness.
“I should go home.” She hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so sad.
“Curry will have to fetch more clothes for you before you can leave. Yours are ruined.”
“Does Curry even know where we are?”
“No.”
Then no one knew, Beth thought. She and Ian were utterly alone. Her heart squeezed with joy.
“He’ll worry, won’t he?” she murmured.
“He’s used to me disappearing. I always turn up again. He knows that.”
Beth studied him. “Why do you disappear?”
“Sometimes it gets too much for me. Trying to follow what people say, trying to remember what I’m supposed to do so people will think I’m normal. Sometimes the rules are too hard. So I go.”
Beth traced his muscular arm with her fingernail. “Where do you go?”
“Most times to the wilds around Kilmorgan. It’s a vast place, and I can lose myself for a long time. You’ll like it there.”
She ignored this. “What about other times?”
“Courtesans’ houses. As long as I pay, they leave me be. I don’t have to think of conversation there.”
Beth had grown used to Ian’s bluntness, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hear about his being with other women. She imagined that courtesans were happy to give Ian sanctuary whenever he wanted it. He was rich, had the body of a god, and possessed devastating charm, especially when he smiled. Even his sideways look gave him a roguish quality. If she were a courtesan, she’d give Ian a special rate.
“Anywhere else?”
“Sometimes I take a train to a place I’ve never been or hire a horse and ride into the countryside. To find somewhere I can be alone.”
“Your family must go wild with worry.”
Ian propped himself on his arm and drew his finger between Beth’s br**sts. “They did at first. Hart never wanted to let me out of his sight.”
“But he eventually did, obviously.”
“He used to be furious when I went. Threatened to have me locked up again.”
Beth’s anger stirred. “His Grace the duke sounds a great bully.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “He realized I was going, no matter what. Curry took my side. Told Hart to f**k himself.”
Beth’s eyes widened. “And Curry is still alive?”
“As you see.”
“Good for Curry.”
“Hart worries, that’s all.”
Beth frowned. “He let you out of the asylum and got your commission of lunacy reversed. Why, so you could help him win at high finance?”
“I don’t much care why he did it. I only care that he did.” Beth grew suddenly angry with Hart. “It’s not fair. He shouldn’t use you so.”
“I don’t mind.”
“But—“
Ian put his fingers on her lips. “I’m not a servant. I help when I can but take something for myself.”
“Like when you disappear for days at a time.” “Hart could have let me rot in that asylum. I’d be there now if not for him. I don’t mind reading his treaties and moving around his stocks if that’s what it takes to pay him back.”
Beth twined her fingers through his. “I suppose I can be grateful to him for letting you out, at least.”
Ian stroked the backs of her fingers, not listening. His warmth covered her like a blanket, and his breath burned as he kissed the line of her hair. “Tell me about your husband,” he murmured.
“Thomas?” Now? “Why?”
“You loved him desperately. What was that like?” Beth lay quietly, remembering. “When he died, I thought I would die, too.”
“You hadn’t known him very long.”
“That didn’t matter. When you love, especially with all your heart, it comes upon you so fast, you don’t have time to resist.”
“And then he died,” Ian said. “And you can never love that deeply again.”
“I don’t know.”