Page 86 of Highland Champion
“Nae. I’ll nae cheat on vows I take.”
“Good to hear, although it was what I expected.” He smiled slightly. “You might consider the bright side to this. You will not only have Oakley’s vote now, but he will pull in every favor among his peers to make sure your claim succeeds.” He swirled the remains of the whisky in his glass. “There is quite an impressive dowry involved, since Lady Melissa is an only child. The MacGregors will have wealth they’d never imagined.”
His clan. With what had happened in the past twenty-four hours, he’d forgotten why he’d been sent to London in the first place. Mount Stuart had just said it was all but guaranteed he would be awarded the land, but there would be money to spread out, also. Could he turn that down? Did he have a right to put his needs over his clan’s when Ian had entrusted him to win back their lands?
“There is one thing more.” Mount Stuart reached for Alasdair’s glass, poured him a dram, and handed it over. “I suspect we will be seeing an announcement of Lord Westwood’s impending nuptials to Miss Lorelei Caldwell very soon.”
Alasdair stared at him. Of course. They’d been caught in an even more compromising situation than his. Westwood was nothing if not honorable. Lorelei’s gown had been torn.Perception is everything.If he hadn’t heard Lorelei ask the marquess to kiss her, if he hadn’t come up on them just as they were, he’d have believed the man had taken advantage of her as well.
Suddenly his belly felt like his horse had placed a well-shod hoof in it.Loreleihad asked Westwood to kissher, not the other way around.Shehad stood on tiptoe to kiss him when he had not reacted.Shehad wanted the kiss.Shehad wanted the embrace.Shewanted Westwood.
What an eejit he’d been. He’d just lost Lorelei and the only chance for happiness that he had. He drained the whisky and clenched his jaw. “I guess the parson’s going to slip his noose around my neck after all.”
…
Lorelei sat motionless on the parlor settee, a copy of theTimesfluttering soundlessly to the floor. Fiona’s face was pale and drawn while Louisa and her mother sat silently on the opposite settee.
Dear Lord. The Duke of Oakley had wasted no time in posting Lady Melissa’s betrothal to Alasdair. The incident—nightmare, really, except she hadn’t been sleeping and it wasn’t a dream—had taken place only last night. Had Alasdair had a chance to explain? Had he seen this morning’s paper? What had his reaction been? Was he in agreement with the marriage?
As soon as Lady Bute and Lady Mount Stuart had gotten through the crowd to her at Vauxhall, they’d whisked her away and into the carriage where Fiona and Louisa had waited with Lord Mount Stuart. Lorelei suspected he was there to make sure neither of them left. It had been a silent ride home, and Lady Bute had once again said questions could wait until morning.
It was morning.
She looked up from her hands. “I cannot believe it.”
“Neither can I.” Fiona scowled at the paper as if it were at fault. “I am going to go and talk to Alasdair. This canna be right.”
“I swear nothing happened last night,” Lorelei proceeded to tell them what had actually transpired. “It was all a horrible set of coincidences.”
“I kenned it!” Fiona exclaimed. “He doesna want to marry Melissa.”
“It probably does not matter much what your brother wants.” Louisa glanced at the paper on the floor. “It has already been announced in theTimes.”
Lorelei felt like she might be sick. At least she hadn’t eaten yet, so there was nothing to cast up. She swallowed hard against the nausea. “How did it get in there so fast? I thought it took time to get things printed.”
“I suspect the Duke of Oakley paid handsomely to have the presses halted,” Lady Bute said.
“But why?” Fiona asked.
“Because time is something the Duke of Oakley does not have,” Louisa’s mother answered. “From what you just said, he told the crowd that the betrothal was already official and had been planned to be announced in today’s paper. If it did not appear today, tongues would wag in every aristocratic home in London. Lord Oakley is a man who would not want a scandal.”
“Even if it means Alasdair does not have a chance to say what really happened.” Fiona stood. “I am going to go talk to my brother right now.”
After she left, Lorelei returned to her bedchamber. Although Louisa had tried to be comforting, she needed to be alone. To think. She slumped in the chair beside the window and tried not to cry.
How could things have gone so completely, totally wrong? If only she hadn’t asked to see the rotunda. If only Randolph hadn’t decided to take a shortcut behind the supper boxes. If only she hadn’t flirted with him, maybe he wouldn’t have. If only they hadn’t gone to Vauxhall in the first place. If only…
She stopped her circular thinking. Why had Alasdair and Melissa been behind the supper boxes also? Had he been following them? Maybe because he was jealous? A little flicker of hope flamed but was quickly extinguished. That didn’t make sense because he wouldn’t have brought Melissa along. Besides, when she’d turned around, he’d been holding on to Melissa. She’d probably only been pretending to swoon or maybe a mouse had run across the path. The reason didn’t matter. They’d been on that same dark, secluded pathway together…
Lorelei stilled. What if Alasdair not only knew about the announcement, but had approved it? She remembered seeing him in an embrace with Melissa on the Oakleys’ terrace. Alasdair had said he wanted to talk to her. Had he been planning to tell her he intended to propose to Melissa? Lorelei blinked back tears that were starting to fall. Dear God. She’d been such a fool.
But… She sniffled and brushed her hands across her cheeks to dry the tears. Fiona didn’t think he wanted to marry Melissa. Maybe…maybeMelissa had lured him out on the path last night. Maybe she’d screamed to get attention. She’d certainly succeeded on that count.
Was there any way out? Lorelei looked at the small clock on the dresser. It had been nearly an hour since Fiona had left. Hopefully, she’d be home soon. She stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. There wasn’t any use trying to come up with a solution when she didn’t know the scope of the problem.
Louisa and her mother were having tea in the parlor when she went down. A small plate of breakfast scones sat near the tea service. Evidently, no one had felt like eating a regular breakfast this morning.
“Let me pour you some tea,” Lady Bute said.
