Kissing the Countess (11 page)

"Of course we are thankful and glad no other tragedy occurred—I do not think your father could have borne it if it had," her aunt replied. "We are also quite distressed by the matter."

Catriona sighed. Grant glanced at her, his expression grim and humorless. She had never felt quite comfortable with Grant, who was overly serious and scowled much for a man of his age—scarcely a decade older than she was herself.

"If you're finished, Mr. Grant, the reverend would like to see Catriona in his study. My dear, come along." She opened the door and tipped her head. "The earl is already meeting with your father. They are waiting for us."

Catriona's heart pounded at the thought of seeing Evan, speaking to him. "Go ahead. I'll... be along in a moment."

Sniffing again, Judith Rennie left the drawing room, leaving the door partly open.

Grant took her hand. "Let me check your pulse once more, my dear Miss MacConn. You have suffered an extraordinary ordeal."

And her aunt was the better part of it just now, she wanted to say, but sat beside him in silence. Then, as he nodded and set her hand down, she smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Grant, for coming out to Glenachan, and for your help in searching for me and for... Lord Kildonan."

"I was glad to be of some help," he said, his brown eyes narrowing. He was a tall man with a square face and a thick shock of dark brown hair. As laird of Kilmallie, twelve miles away at the easternmost end of Glen Shee, he did not come often to Glenachan. Kenneth now ran his inherited estate, which he had expanded with sheep runs that had begun to make his fortune. Yet he still found time to act as the glen's only doctor, the nearest full physician being thirty miles away in Kyle of Lochalsh. "I'm always delighted to help you in particular, my dear Miss Catriona."

He sometimes referred to her by her first name, for they had known each other for years—since she had been a girl, in fact, though he had been only an occasional visitor to the manse then. He smiled, quick and flat, as if it pained him to do so. Grant lacked a sense of humor, she knew, and his somber, earnest nature was sometimes trying.

"Not everyone is delighted with me just now," she said.

He frowned. "Reverend MacConn is understandably upset, of course. He was very much afraid that you had met with an accident. I dosed him for nervous ailment last night, he was that worried. And he did ask me to speak with you, miss, to determine if you were... well, harmed in any less obvious way."

"Lord Kildonan behaved like a gentleman, if that is what you imply," she said. That was true enough. She had not behaved like a lady, but she was not going to give details to anyone.

Grant stared hard at her. "Your father fears that you were... compromised. The blanket was obviously shared."

"We had to share it for warmth," she answered. "It was terribly cold. My father and my aunt may not understand that we were in danger of our lives in the shelter of that hut, but you, as a doctor, must assure them that we had reason to share the blanket. That does not mean I was compromised."

"So you did share it. Well, I'm sure this will all blow over, like last night's storm."

She nodded silently. If the details became known, the storm would become a tempest. "I must go to my father," she said. "Is that all, Mr. Grant?" She stood, and he did as well.

"One more moment of your time, Miss MacConn," he said. He smiled that curious, thin smile that held no humor or lightness, and went to the door, closing it securely.

"Shutting the door is not necessary—nor proper," she said, stretching out her hand to open it again. "I am in enough of a kettle with my aunt just now." She meant it for a jest, but he did not laugh. The doctor, always serious, never seemed to quite understand jokes, she reminded herself.

"Nor was what you did proper, my dear," he said. "If only I had known."

"Known what?" She moved past him, but he took her shoulder. She turned, puzzled at first, then alarmed, for he seemed angry in that hard, grim way he had. "What is it? Did my father or aunt ask you to... speak to me about anything further?"

"I wish I had known that proper Miss Catriona, the Plain Girl of Glenachan, was willing to spend the night in a man's arms," he said in a low voice. "I would have pressed my own interests earlier." He took her by both shoulders. "Now I wonder if it is too late."

She tried to shrug him away. "What do you mean, too late?"

"I was there, my dear. I saw you sitting in the pallet you shared with him. You looked so beautiful, with your hair loose, your cheeks rosy, your lips—seeing that, it cut me to the heart," he said, and then he brushed his hand over her cheek. "I want what you gave the earl so freely. I deserve that more than he does." He took her by the shoulders again.

"Take your hands off me," she said, fierce and low. Her heart beat hard, her head whirled. Had she missed some sign in him of affection for her? Some sign of a hidden, almost cruel temperament? He had always been serious and grim, though impeccably polite.

"I've known you for years, and I would have pressed my suit with your father, but you were the Plain Girl—the one who agreed never to marry. And now this! Much better if you had run off and wed someone. That would have been less of a shock than this—giving yourself to the Earl of Kildonan, of all men!"

"He was a gentleman when we were alone, as I told you," she said. That was true for the most part. "And I am no man's mistress, if that is what you think. Let me go."

"Everyone in the glen knows that the old earl kept a Highland mistress—more than one. It appears that his son means to do the same."

"Not with me," she said, pushing against him. "I am done with him—and what happened last night should not interest you or anyone else. Leave me be."

But he caught her in his arms, pulling her to him. "Listen to me. Keep still and listen," he hissed, while Catriona struggled. "I know about your brother."

She grew still. "My—brother?" she whispered.

"Finlay MacConn has been bringing back some of the people who were evicted from this glen years ago. He is setting them up again in their former homes."

"How... ridiculous," she said, her voice muffled. How did Kenneth Grant know? Finlay was always very careful, and so far had installed families only in remote areas of the glen.

"I've seen them," Grant said. "I was hunting on my land where it borders Kildonan, and my dogs ran off in pursuit of a stag. I chased them a far distance, and I saw smoke curling up from what should have been an abandoned croft. Then I saw that ancient Mr. MacGillechallum, who was thrown out of his home with his old wife. Both of them sitting outside in the sunshine by their little house—and the house had a new roof and a new door. What do you think of that?"

"I do not know what you're talking about," she said.

"Oh, you do," he said, holding her hard at the waist. "I think you have been helping him. You and Finlay are well-known for walking the hills for hours, full days, at a time. That old wifey was singing a tune that day, one I've heard you sing, dear girl. A strange old Gaelic tune, and where would you have learned it but from that old woman?" He tilted his head and hummed a little of the melody.

The beautiful old song seemed eerie and thin, rendered in his flat voice. She stared at him. "Let me go," she said coldly, "and leave this house. When my father and brother learn that you have put your hands on me in so vile a manner—and you a doctor—there will be plenty said, and done, about it."

He pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. "What do you think the new earl will say about all this? His factor taking estate decisions into his own hands—Kildonan will have him arrested for it. The sheriff at Inverness and the magistrate of the Torridon district always supported the old earl. And now Finlay MacConn... and his beautiful sister... have gone against the law. Those people have no right to live on this land. They are not tenants approved by the landowner. They are not capable of doing hard work or paying the rent."

She stood motionless in his grip, feeling an ugly swirl of fear. "What do you want of me? Why are you bringing this up now?"

"I want you to kiss me, dear Miss Catriona," he murmured angrily. "I want to know for myself what you shared with the Earl of Kildonan."

His lips traced along her cheek, and she shuddered. When his mouth touched hers, she felt a wave of revulsion and anger. She buckled against him, but he yanked tightly, a big, strong, determined man, with no bit of lightness or humor in him. All was grim in his view of the world, and Finlay's offense—and hers with Kildonan—had triggered something cruel in him.

Kenneth kissed her then, his thin mouth hard and cold. She twisted her head away.

"Now listen to me," he growled. "I will report your brother's activities to the earl and the sheriff, and I will see those old folk, and everyone else Finlay has brought back, thrown out of their homes again. They have no right to be there."

"What do you care?" she said, writhing in his grip.

"More than you know. Kilmallie lands border Kildonan policies. The earl plans to sell those acres. I intend to acquire them, but those old folk will not stay on the land if I have anything to say about it. The earl has prospective buyers coming to look at the property. Wealthy men who will either convert the rest of the land into sheep runs or develop it into a vast hunting paradise."

"No," she breathed. "I thought it was just a rumor. He cannot really do that."

"He can. Any folk Finlay installs will be sent away again by Kildonan or the new owners—or me, if I can get that land. But I think you and I can make a little bargain, my dear."

"What do you mean?"

"I will keep your brother's activities to myself," he said, "and you and I will keep one more secret." He yanked her close, her hips against his own. Even through layers of petticoats she could feel the ridge of his erection. He ground himself against her and dipped his head to kiss her.

"You will give me whatever you gave Kildonan," he said. "If you are his mistress, you must be mine, as well. And I will pretend to know nothing about your brother's plan."

She froze in his arms, staring at him.

"I have the right, now that you have declared yourself available." He slipped a hand behind her head and kissed her again, but she pulled away in disgust. "That is the price of my silence, Miss Catriona. Your earl will never know, and your brother will be safe. I will acquire the land I want... and Kildonan will be a rich man and off to the Lowlands again. He will not care what happens to his bonny Highland mistress."

She only stared at him. Grant kissed her cheek.

"Until later, my dear." Then he let her go and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway.

Catriona stood there for a long minute, limbs shaking. She felt so faint, suddenly, that she rounded to sit on a chair, bending to lower her head, afraid she might pass out.

Chapter 8

"Lord Kildonan, sit down," Thomas MacConn said solemnly. "Finlay, leave the door ajar for your aunt. She and Catriona will be along soon."

Evan sat in a leather chair opposite the reverend's desk while Finlay stood near the window. The small, crowded room was dominated by a mammoth desk and leather chairs arranged on a worn carpet. Crammed bookcases and a large stone fireplace lined the walls, and dark drapes partially blocked the light.

"Father, I'm sure Lord Kildonan is exhausted and would like a chance to rest before he is interrogated," Finlay said.

Thomas MacConn sent his son a grim look. "We need to resolve the matter without delay."

"Of course. I understand the family's concern," Evan said.

The reverend seated himself behind his desk and folded his hands over his stomach, below the silver watch chain that crossed his black vest. He was a large, imposing man, and Evan could well imagine his commanding presence and gruff voice intimidating his parish, particularly one with the strict views of the Free Church. "Very good, sir," Thomas MacConn said. "And I'm sure you can also understand that my sister, Mrs. Rennie, is upset, too. I asked her to attend our meeting and to bring Catriona in, as well."

Evan nodded, keeping his expression neutral, although his heart jumped at the thought of facing Catriona again in front of her family. The meeting did not promise to be pleasant, and he had no intention of revealing the truth of what had happened in the shieling hut. Whatever he owed Catriona—and he did not doubt he owed her—should be resolved in private between them.