Page 25 of When the Rogue Returns
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VICTOR SPENT THEnext day with the Lochlaws, because he had no way of finding Isa. The sly wench had slipped away from the theater while he was trying to regain his composure, so he’d been unable to follow her home. She might not like being calledMausianymore, but she certainly had a mouse’s talent for sneaking out of one’s grasp.
But he would find her. Tomorrow he’d wait at the shop until she arrived, and then he’dmakeher give him answers.
I’m denying that I ever called our marriage a mistake. I don’t know where you got such nonsense, but I never said any such thing.
Those words seared a hole in his brain even as he attended church services with the Lochlaws. There’d been no mistaking the shock on her face. No mistaking how she’d glossed over the theft to focus on his words about their marriage.
I was in love with you.
As his throat tightened, he cursed his easy reaction. He knew better than to believe her. She’d wanted access to the diamonds and had seen how he’d wantedher. In his life, in his bed.
He still wanted her. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t some randy young idiot anymore; how could she still do this to him?
No doubt she’d said those words to distract him, to keep him from hounding her about the theft. Though it was odd that she hadn’t denied making the imitation parure. Or at least pretended outrage at his accusation. That wasn’t the behavior of a criminal avoiding culpability.
Still, she hadn’t admitted to doing it, either. She’d danced around the subject, but the fact that she even knew of it meant she’d been part of it somehow.
Didn’t it?
Damnation, the inconsistencies in her behavior, her character, were eating at him. He had to get to the bottom of it!
Sunday droned on into a dinner with the Lochlaws. Lady Lochlaw clearly saw her son as little more than a child to be managed, and in her presence, he became one—sulking at the dining table, mumbling answers to her barbed questions, and toying with his food.
Until her ladyship suggested that he and Victor take a walk about town. Once they were out of the house, Lochlaw’s entire demeanor changed. He became friendly, expansive, chatty. He didn’t even seem to be upset about finding Victor and Isa together the night before. Perhaps she’d been right. Perhaps the man really did just regard her as a friend.
They headed toward Edinburgh Castle, whichLochlaw insisted that he visit. “You can view the entire city from the Battery,” the young baron gushed. “And you should also see the regalia, which is on display. The crown itself...”
Victor could barely attend the man’s prattling. All his thoughts were for Isa—where she was, how he could find her.
He waited until they’d visited all the public areas of the great castle and were walking down High Street toward the Palace of Holyrood House before he broached the subject.
“Where is Mrs. Franke today?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
Lochlaw turned instantly nervous. “I dunno. I never see her on Sundays. Mother insists I spend Sunday with her.”
“Ah.”
They walked a moment in silence. Then Lochlaw surprised him by asking, “What do you think of Mrs. Franke?”
“She seems lovely,” Victor said through gritted teeth.She’s my wife, damn it! Keep your bloody hands off of her!But he couldn’t stake his claim to her publicly yet. Not until he figured out what she was up to. The last thing he needed was her trying to painthimas the thief.
Caution was the best course of action, yet he had this visceral need to proclaim her his wife. Especially after last night’s kiss, when she’d melted in his arms, reminding him of how they’d once been.
Of howshe’donce been, generous with her soft, sweet kisses and easy acceptance of who he was. Though in truth, she hadn’t really known who he was back then. After the war, he’d been so eager to calm the heavy turmoil in his soul that he’d seized on her as his oasis. Instead, she’d proved to be his Waterloo. And he’d never been the same.
Lochlaw was watching him. “Mrs. Frankeislovely.” But he said it as if it were a curse.
Very curious. Might as well find out about the baron’s feelings for Isa while the lad was willing to talk. “Your mother worries that you mean to marry her.”
“And what if I do?” Lochlaw said with sudden belligerence. “Mother has no say in it. I’m the baron. I can do as I wish.”
“So, is that what you wish?” Victor’s gut clenched. “To marry Mrs. Franke?”
“She’s the only woman who’s ever really been nice to me. And since I have to marry to sire an heir...” A look of despair crossed Lochlaw’s face. “But even if I did wish to marry her, she would never have me.”
Oddly enough, the young man’s woeful expression tugged at Victor’s sympathies. He remembered all too well the torment he’d suffered working himself up to ask for Isa’s hand, sure that she would see only a worthless soldier with no fortune, no family, and no permanent position to commend him.
