A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,107

his. “Mary is his only cousin. The Fletchers are a clan of small families. When my mother died, Mary came to stay with us for a few months. I believe she hoped Papa would marry her.” A faint half smile lit her face. “Papa was so handsome and charming and clever, everyone was in love with him . . . He did not marry her, though, and she went away and married someone else, but they remained deeply fond of each other. Talking about him with her was wonderful.”

Drew wondered if Ilsa counted too much on Fletcher’s charm. “Then those men will find her and demand she tell them what she told you.”

Finally some animation returned to her face. “She’ll tell them these charges are lies! Mary would take any secret of Papa’s to her grave, but she doesn’t even know what to tell them. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have figured it out without going to Dunbar, but I’m still glad I went. Mary had heard rumors and was worried. Talking to her reminded me. Papa will go to the Lord of Princes.”

He stole a quick, alarmed glance at her. Did Fletcher mean to take his own life? “What does that mean?”

“It’s a solicitor in Glasgow. Archibald Lorde in Prince’s Street. Papa says he looks like an archbishop and calls him the Lord of Princes, as a great joke.”

Drew couldn’t keep back a bark of laughter. Perhaps Fletcher was more cunning than he’d thought. “It would take Cockburn’s men a long time to riddle that one.”

“It rather sounds like a suicide, doesn’t it?” Incredibly, she laughed, too. “I’d entirely forgotten him. Papa knows I don’t approve of his investments in tobacco, so he never speaks of them to me. Mr. Lorde was engaged because he’s in Glasgow, where most of the trading companies are based. If Papa is in need of funds, he could turn to Mr. Lorde, particularly once he’d cut his ties with Mr. MacGill.

“Mary mentioned fondly the annuity Papa settled on her at her marriage.” Ilsa sighed. “Jean has one, as well. Papa has a generous heart. But Mr. Lorde pays those. It’s much too humble for the great David MacGill, I suppose,” she finished dourly.

“Will this Lorde cooperate if he knows your father is wanted in Edinburgh?”

She gave him a look. “Papa’s not guilty, which Mr. Lorde will understand.”

MacGill hadn’t. Drew let it pass. “If he has papers from Lorde in his home, the sheriff will find them and visit Glasgow.”

“They haven’t found them yet—or at least, they didn’t mention it to me,” she said slowly. “Papa might have taken those with him . . .”

Which sounded like the act of a guilty man. Again Drew didn’t say it.

Ilsa freed her hand and twisted to face him. He leaned back and watched her, his hands flat on the ground beside his hips. Tentatively she leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” He turned his head slightly, inhaling the scent of her skin, and let his lips skim her cheek.

“For coming back. For being concerned for me. For staying with me even after I told you to go away, when you could have gone back to your happy life in Edinburgh and left me to muddle along as I entirely deserved.”

“I care for you.” He caught her chin and feathered his mouth over hers. “A great deal. I couldn’t bear it if something terrible happened to you.”

“Thanks to you, it didn’t.”

“Nor will it,” he growled, and then he kissed her as he’d wanted to do for weeks, deeply, hungrily, completely. Her mouth opened under his and she pressed up against him, her hands at his shoulders, in his hair, tugging at his neckcloth.

Her dress came loose under his hands. Impatiently he lifted her, setting her astride him and pulling down her bodice, baring her to his starving gaze. Her skin was pearly pale in the moonlight and his hand shook as he trailed his fingers down her throat, slowing as he reached the swell of her breast above the confines of her stays. She watched him, her lips parted, her hair streaming over her shoulders, as she undid the knot at his neck and opened his shirt.

Drew’s head fell back in helpless surrender when she leaned forward and pressed her mouth there, to the pulse at the base of his throat. This woman had enthralled him and captivated him; if she left him forever tomorrow, he