Perhaps, while he was downstairs, he'd retire to the library for some port before he came to bed. Otherwise he'd never sleep, and if there was the one thing he needed, it was a deep, unconscious sleep-especially with his innocent temptress of a wife within reach. In the morning, when she awoke...

He smiled and tucked the blankets about her. Then, still smiling, he quietly left.

Chapter 9.

"If ye ever find yerself with a MacLean, avoid his green gaze. 'Tis said they've but to look at a woman to capture her heart, and 'tis always good to be careful."

OLD WOMAN NORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER'S NIGHT An hour later as Hugh left the library, he noticed the sitting-room door was thrown wide, the lights inside softly glowing. He glanced in and stopped at the sight of a pair of boots stretched out toward the fireplace.

They were especially fine boots of soft Italian leather, shimmering with a polish not usually found off St. James Street. The heels were specially crafted and etched with silver, while ebony ta.s.sels hung from the white tops, the acknowledged footwear of a dandy. Judging by the sheen of the man's breeches, the rest of the man appeared to be just as well dressed.

Hugh strode into the room. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

The man in the chair sipped the port he'd been cradling in a large gla.s.s. "Is that any way to greet a brother?" he asked in a languid voice.

Hugh frowned. "Where are the girls?"

"Abed, where they belong."

"Then nothing happened-"

"Your daughters are safe. Even now, they are guarded by seven of my best men."

Hugh sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Dougal. It's been a h.e.l.l of a week, and I received that letter right before I left-"

"I know! It worried me, as well. That's why all of my best men are there. I would never allow anything to happen to my nieces."

Hugh managed a smile. "Thank you. Sorry to be so on edge." He glanced around. "Where's Sophia?"

"My lovely wife left for Edinburgh this afternoon to escort her father to see a specialist."

"Red is ill?"

"He merely has a case of gout, but Sophie fusses over him as if he were a baby." Dougal smiled, his gaze softening. "She won't be gone long; she is never happy away from me."

"Away from MacFarlane Manor, you mean. I never saw a woman love a house more."

"And who can blame her? It's not as impressive in size as this monstrosity, but definitely more elegant."

"And more expensive."

Dougal lifted his brows. "Oh? Are you suffering some sort of reverses? The last I heard, you were the wealthy one."

"Alexander has more than all of us together."

"He inherited his fortune; the rest of us have had to make our own money. You through your blessed horses, and me through my skill at the table."

"I never thought of card playing as a skill."

"Ah, but you've never played me."

"And never will."

Dougal smoothed the sleeve of his coat of blue superfine. "Don't trust me?"

"Not with cards, women, or my port."

"That's only prudent."

Hugh returned to the original subject. "If you are not returning the girls, why are you here?"

"I saw you gallop by and thought I would welcome you home."

"You couldn't have seen me; it was dark." Hugh went to the sideboard, retrieved an empty gla.s.s from a silver salver, and poured himself a goodly measure of port.

"It wasn't too dark for you to ride."

"I was on the open road with the moon overhead, while you had to peer through the trees that surround your house. You couldn't have seen me," he repeated.

Dougal shrugged and took a sip of his port. "Then perhaps I heard the coach."

"Or perhaps you're still paying that ramshackle footman of mine to spy for you."

"Liam is a good man," Dougal protested.

"To you." He'd have to talk to his footman again. The problem was, Dougal was so d.a.m.ned good at making things seem right even when one knew they weren't. When he and Dougal were younger, that had gotten Hugh in trouble time after time.

Dougal regarded Hugh from beneath his lashes. "If you were more forthcoming, I wouldn't have to hire a spy to learn things. Such as the interesting fact that my dear brother has returned from London with a wife?"

Hugh's jaw tightened, but he returned no reply. He'd just spent the last hour trying not to think about the woman currently gracing his bedchamber and he didn't welcome Dougal's prying attentions into that very situation.

Hugh had already downed a gla.s.s of port in the library in an attempt to soothe the edges off his l.u.s.t and exhaustion-a bad combination on the best of days. He quickly finished off the rest of his newly filled gla.s.s and then refilled it.

Dougal lifted his brows. "Knowing you as I do, I could believe you returned dead quicker than wed."

"It's true." Hugh took a chair across from Dougal, planted his heels on the settee, and crossed his ankles.

Dougal looked at his brother's boots with disdain. "Heathen."

"Fop."

"But a well-mannered fop, at least." Dougal eyed Hugh with interest. "Liam seems to think you were forced to marry after getting caught in a compromising position with a vicar's daughter, no less. How close is he to the truth?"

Hugh took a deep drink of the port. "That's a crude version of events, but accurate."

Dougal lifted his brows. "You seem quite calm."

"I'm resigned. That's a different thing altogether."

"Hmm. What's her name?"

"Caitriona Hurst." Hugh paused. "MacLean."

"Hurst? Isn't that the chit Alexander was flirting with when I was in London last month?"

"No, that's her sister Caitlyn. My wife goes by Triona, but it doesn't suit her."

Dougal looked at Hugh curiously. "What name does?"

"I don't know, but Triona is too...plain."

"Ah, so she's a beauty."

"She's..." Hugh stared into his gla.s.s. "She's unique."

Dougal waited, but Hugh offered no more. Shifting in his chair, Dougal said cheerfully, "Hurst, eh? Good Scottish stock, then."

"She must be, though you won't detect an accent. Her family resides at the vicarage at Wythburn, north of London."

Dougal leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "So, how did this happen?" he asked quietly.

Hugh rubbed a hand over his face. "I warned Alexander about flirting with the sister, but he just laughed. He left town for a week and I used your bribing-the-footman trick to watch the chit. I discovered that Caitlyn was setting a trap for Alexander to garner an offer of marriage, and I meant to thwart the scheme. Meanwhile, Caitriona was attempting to stop the plan as well-but somehow we both got caught instead."

"You could find no other way out?"

"I couldn't leave Caitriona to deal with the scandal on her own."

"There was a scandal?"

Hugh's expression grew grim. "It was all over town in a trice. Our names were even entered into the wager books at White's."

Dougal whistled silently. "And of course, being who you are, you could do no less than marry the chit."

"It was more my fault than you realize. If I hadn't been so intent on punishing the sister, I never would have compromised Caitriona. My temper got the best of me."

"Does Alexander know?"

Hugh shook his head.

"He will be furious that you interfered in his affairs."

"I have larger concerns at the moment."

"I suppose you do-such as what your daughters will think, finding themselves with a new mother."

Hugh's brows snapped together. "Those girls are my children. They are my responsibility and no one else's. Caitriona will stay here for a few months only, and then she will return to her family home."

"What?" Dougal's brows rose. "Does she agree with that?"

"I gave her no other option."

Dougal sighed. "Hugh, you cannot judge all women by Clarissa-"

Hugh was instantly on his feet, and outside a wall of wind slammed into the house, rattling the windows. "Don't speak that woman's name in this house ever again! I won't have it."

Dougal threw up his hands. "Very well! I'm sorry!"

The wind subsided as Hugh dropped back into his chair, his face grim. "Caitriona is nothing like her. If she had been, I wouldn't have married her, no matter the circ.u.mstances."

"I'm surprised you brought her here."

He shot a hard look at Dougal. "I had no choice. You know I dare not be gone for long."

"True." Dougal leaned back in his chair. "You are caught between h.e.l.l and high water, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. So...what do I do now?"

"Oh, no, you don't! The last time I gave you advice, it had to do with purchasing a certain mare that drew up lame. After abusing me for months, you told me you'd never ask for my opinion again."

"You know next to nothing about horses, but you have excellent taste in women. Sophie is a wonder."

Pride flared through Dougal and he couldn't help puffing out his chest. "I did well, didn't I?" Though to be honest, he wasn't so sure he'd picked Sophie as much as she'd picked him. "I'm not quite sure what sort of advice you want. If this woman is nothing like She Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken, then what has you worried?"

Hugh stared into his empty gla.s.s, his expression dark. Finally, he said, "When I first met the girls' mother, I was besotted, wild for her. I couldn't eat, sleep, or think of anything else." His smile twisted with disdain. "I don't know how any of you put up with me."

"You were a youth, so of course you were annoying." Dougal shrugged. "We knew you'd come out of it, and eventually you did."

"Still, it disrupted the entire household, and for months none of us spoke." Hugh shook his head. "Now that my daughters are here and I am providing a home for them, I can't allow anything-or anyone-to disrupt our lives. They've had enough difficulties already; I can't be responsible for adding more."

Dougal poured more port into his gla.s.s. d.a.m.n it, he wished Sophia were here. She was a fount of wisdom about the human heart and its complexities, something Dougal didn't even pretend to understand.

Yet now Hugh-who rarely asked for help of any sort, except in keeping an eye on the girls when he had to attend to business in London-was asking for Dougal's opinion on that very subject.

Stalling for time, Dougal said, "Do you have reason to think ill of your new wife? What is she like?"

Hugh shrugged. "She's quite attractive and about this high"-Hugh held out a hand to his shoulder-"with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. And she wears spectacles."

"So far, I hear nothing to cause alarm."

Hugh smiled faintly. "She gives as good as she gets, and she's as stubborn as the day is long."