My Highland Rogue - Karen Ranney Page 0,76

you don’t tell me soon, I’m tempted to beat it out of you.”

He looked up from his desk. Maggie was still standing there, her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

“Since when are you given to violent threats?”

“I’ve been out of practice lately,” she said, her chin jutting up in the air. “However, there were many times when I had to cosh some idiot over the head.”

Maggie had lived hand to mouth for years. She’d made herself over so well that he sometimes forgot about her past.

“What happened to you, Maggie? Why did you rob me five years ago?”

She stared at him for a long time. Finally, she crossed her arms in front of her. He’d seen that pose before, too. It always preluded changing the subject.

This time, however, she surprised him. “I’d been kicked out of my lodgings for not paying the rent. The man I was with took all my money and left me to starve. See? It’s not so hard to tell the truth.”

From that he could deduce more than he was comfortable knowing.

“So you fell in love and it turned out poorly.”

“Is that what you call it? I think I was a fool and an idiot.”

“Sometimes that’s one and the same, Maggie.”

“So she hurt you?”

“No,” he said, smiling slightly. “She didn’t hurt me.” He’d hurt her. He’d never be able to forget that look on Jennifer’s face. Disbelief, shock, horror—the dawning of grief—he’d probably looked exactly the same way on learning the news he’d delivered.

“Even if you don’t admit it, I know it’s about her.”

He sat back in his chair and looked at her. “How do you know that?”

“Because you’ve never been involved with a woman seriously here in London, and you’ve had a fair bit of women interested in you.”

“Have I?”

“I’ve mentioned them before. You never seemed to notice them. I thought, at first, that it was because you were working too much. You were determined to get ahead to the detriment of everything else.”

“If I admitted it was about a woman, would you leave me alone?”

“No. I’d just want to know more. Why isn’t she here with you in London?”

“Maybe she will be in the future.”

“No, she won’t,” Maggie said, shaking her head.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you wouldn’t have that look on your face if she was. Like a dog that’s been kicked.”

“I’ve not been kicked. I don’t need advice, and I’m fine, Maggie.”

She didn’t move, only frowned at him.

“If she broke your heart, she’s not worth the effort to be pining about her. There are plenty of English girls who are interested in you, Gordon McDonnell. Don’t you forget that.”

“I’m fine, Maggie. All I want to do right now is work.”

There must’ve been something in his tone, because she didn’t badger him further. Maggie only sent him another frown, turned on her heel, and left the room.

He wasn’t fooled. She’d be back. She’d ask questions until he left and found another place to work.

Chapter Thirty-One

The journey to Edinburgh was accomplished with a minimum of fuss and a maximum degree of comfort. Jennifer had never ridden in as luxurious a vehicle as Mr. Campbell’s carriage. In addition to being well sprung, the seats and back were thickly upholstered. Two clever little compartments along the side held flasks of brandy and wine, a mirror, writing materials, and a folding pair of binoculars in case one wanted to see the scenery with more magnification.

Every possible effort had been made to ensure her comfort—from the neck pillow she’d been given to the rounded brazier on the floor.

She truly couldn’t have been more cosseted.

Even little Mary was adding to the pleasant nature of the journey. The baby hadn’t fussed once, but that was probably because Lauren was holding her daughter. Jennifer hadn’t had many occasions to be around new mothers, but she couldn’t imagine a more perfect person for the role than Lauren.

What a pity that Harrison hadn’t fitted into his role of father.

For over a year, Jennifer had thought that Lauren was a sweet, biddable young thing, so in love with Harrison that she would forgive any of his sins. She’d also anticipated that the journey to Edinburgh would be spent with Lauren in tears, inconsolable at her father’s actions.

Instead, the woman in the carriage was steely eyed and seemingly unperturbed about the fact that her husband had already returned to London.

Mr. Campbell, however, was doing his utmost to comfort his daughter. More than once Jennifer saw him patting Lauren’s arm or hand. He’d only spoken

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