“And of course all the debutantes will be in attendance, as well as the most eligible of gentlemen, including, naturally, Mr. Lockhart and Mr. Lockhart— although one might argue whether Mr. Nigel Lockhart is particularly eligible, given that Mr. Drake Lockhart is older and stands to inherit the fortune, with a smaller stipend going to Nigel, and then there was the rather unpleasant business of Bath—”
Lockhart again. His emotions were high, and in a fit of frustration he abruptly demanded, “Why him?”
“What?”
“Lockhart! I would like to know—why him?”
“Why him indeed!” she snorted. But at Grif’s frown she puffed out her cheeks in exasperation and cried, “What should you care? It’s just the way of things, and has been since the moment I came out. To marry well is all that is really left to a woman highborn who is out, and now that I… now that…”
“Aye, lass, now that ye are a woman highborn and out, ye admire a bloody rake! But ye are far better than him!”
“He’s not a rake—”
“He’s a goddam blackguard!” Grif exploded. “He speaks from both sides of his mouth! He promises ye one thing, yer sister another, and God knows what else he promises to the other debutantes!”
“Oh stop, will you please just stop! That’s entirely untrue—”
“’Tis bloody well true, and ye know it is, Anna. Ye know it well, for ye are a frightfully clever woman. What I canna understand is why a woman as… as bright as ye are, as… vivid and alive and deserving of so much more as ye are… would be smitten by the likes of him!” he roared.
His opinion clearly surprised her, and for once she said nothing for a very long moment, just blinked at him. “You… you think I’m bright and vivid?”
God in heaven. Exasperated, feeling all at sixes and sevens, Grif could only shake his head and glare at the carpet. He had no idea what he meant anymore, why it should matter to him, given the circumstance. The only thing he knew was that he felt completely at odds with himself, as if someone else entirely had suddenly inhabited his skin. “What I mean to say,” he said quietly, “is that ye are deserving of a better man than Drake Lockhart.” Ye are deserving of me… “And I canna understand why he’s caught yer eye as he has,” he said. “’Tis pure folly.”
That left her quite speechless; she just stared at him with those big copper eyes until Grif began to feel terribly self-conscious.
He started to turn away, but she stopped him by saying, “You can’t possibly hope to understand it, Grif, because you’re a gentleman. There really, truly is nothing left to me but marriage, and the only free choice I have in my life is whom I marry. I’m not a fool—I know the time is quickly approaching that I will be labeled a spinster and will be forced to live under my parents’ roof for the rest of my days. And truly, that wouldn’t be so horrible, for at least I am allowed to pursue my interests. I train hunting dogs, I paint, I read, and I play the harp—rather badly, really, but nevertheless…I am free to play it. As long as I am content to be alone.”
How rudely that reminded him of Mared, who had been sentenced to a similar life at the moment of birth by some ridiculous and ancient curse. No one in his family believed in the curse that haunted her, that a daughter born to a Lockhart would never marry until she faced the devil himself. But the rest of Scotland did, and they had made the poor girl something of a pariah.
Aye, he understood what Anna was saying, and looked at her, quietly assessing her. “All right. I understand yer desire to be married—”
“No,” she said, interrupting him as she instantly and adamantly shook her head. “No, it’s not the desire to be married. How can I explain it? I would that my life had been different, that I had fallen in love. But now… now it’s more a desire not to be left behind. Although I’d enjoy some freedom in my parents’ house, I …I would be left behind,” she said earnestly, her expression pained. “There is a difference, do you see?”
Yes, he understood the difference, and nodded thoughtfully. “All right, then… yer desire is to… belong,” he said softly. “But why him?”
Anna moaned, walked to the chair she had vacated, and sank into it again, only this time like a rag doll. “I honestly can’t say why him. I suppose because I admired him above the rest. And I feel rather strongly that I cannot sit idly by and watch my sister marry him. I cannot live knowing that the man I have admired for so long is sharing my sister’s bed. So… I’ve done the only thing I knew to do. I sought help from the one person who would not judge me.” She looked up. “I sought you.”
A wave of desire washed through Grif, a desire to show her that she could have so much more, to make her understand there were men who deserved her esteem.
But how could he show her? He had nothing to offer her, nothing to recommend him, unless she fancied a man who had perpetuated a fraud and came from a family that was almost as penniless as a beggar. Moreover, as long as she held the beastie, she held his family’s future in her hands. What could he do?