had never seen in him, and it was clear he had lost some weight. He had never appeared thus, not even when he was insensibly drunk.
“By all means.” She gestured limply to the drawing room, strangely satisfied that it was sparse, mismatched, and poorly kept.
Let Lachlan see what he, and their father, had brought her to.
She sat on the tattered divan and waited for him to take a seat. He did, choosing the wingback chair that Sir Reginald favored.
There was an irony in that.
Lachlan surprised her by leaning forward and rubbing his hands over his face. “I ken what I am,” he told her in a low voice, “and I ken what I have done. I never meant tae trap ye like that. I ken my actions were selfish an’ that ye were the one tae suffer for it. I couldna face ye on yer wedding day, knowing what I’d done. Sir Archibald was a blackguard, and I ken tha’ from the moment our hands were dealt. He made it verra plain he had fortune aplenty but no nobility tae enforce his position. I thought when Da discovered the truth, he would call it off. But then he moved the wedding up, and Da insisted so forcibly. Faye never told him, and—”
“Don’t you dare blame Mama!” Edith scolded at once.
“I’m not,” he said, raising his hands. “I’m not. I am the villain here, and I own to it. It surprised me how eagerly he wanted ye,” Lachlan admitted, sounding far away as he rose and began to pace before her. “I think he may have cheated the final hand for ye alone. I got myself right and truly soused oot the head wi’ drink tha’ night. ’Twas the only way I could bring him tae Da and tae ye.” He looked at Edith then, his expression raw. “I ken the depth of my sins, Edie. I ken verra well what Da would say and do. But I didna care enough to intervene. Tae take my debt like a man. I went back tae my regiment, and I did my best tae forget ye, and him, and all of it. Believe me, I never thought he would use you so. If I had… if I had…”
Edith folded her arms and gave him a look. “You would have been less of a villain?”
He gave Edith a ghost of a smile. “Perhaps only half of one. I heard about the wedding, and your husband’s death, and I felt I should have ridden into the church and rescued you from it all. What sort of a brother lets his sister be sold off to the devil? I should be as dead as Archibald. I’d be better to the family for it.”
“Oh, stop that,” Edith said, relaxing at last. Taking his hand, she forced him to sit down next to her. “We may despise you at times, but none of us want you dead.”
“I cannot pretend that I will be a good man,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I cannot change my spots that much. But I would like to be a better one. I want to make amends.”
“You did send Henshaw,” Edith reminded him. “He has been a great friend.”
“I know. You are perhaps the only person I have ever done good for. I knew Henshaw would treat you better than I could have at the time. The most honorable man I’ve ever met, and one with many sisters. I thought, there is a man who kens how tae be a brother. I ken I wasna fit, but I wanted someone tae look in on ye when I heard ye’d come to London.”
“Henshaw was no replacement for you, Lachlan,” Edith murmured softly. “There’s only one of you, mo bhràthair.”
“I’d hoped tha…” He smiled very weakly, his hands rubbing together between his knees. “I’d hoped he’d take ye tae wife in yer widowhood. Make up for my mistakes.”
“He offered,” Edith admitted, matching his smile. “I refused.”
“Why?”
“He’s in love with a lass, though I doubt either of them have admitted so.” Edith sighed and began to look on her brother with pity, and even some grudging affection, somehow. “Why are ye here, Lachlan?”
His smile faded, and his look grew intense. “I’m no’ a saint, Edie, but I’m no’ the same sinner who betrayed ye. I’ve come to make amends and better myself. I’ve come to be yer brother again, if ye’ve a mind tae have me.”
A lump formed in Edith’s throat, a sharp pang of longing