Wild (Regency Scandal 2), Carole Mortimer [novels for teenagers .TXT] 📗

“It is the way—”

“Of things in the Highlands,” Andrew finished for her.

The Highlands appeared to be very much a close-knit community, despite their homes being stretched so sparsely across the vast area. Or perhaps because of it? The fewer people living in an area, the more likely they were to either be related to each other or to be friends, at the very least.

Catriona McGregor’s family connection to her brother Hugh’s advocate, and the man having been attacked, also explained why she had been allowed to contact Andrew about the death of his sister, and then the guardianship of Malcolm, rather than the advocate doing so himself.

Things really were done differently in the Highlands.

So differently, they had allowed this woman to completely confuse Andrew regarding his nephew’s future. “Whether he is fully recovered or not, I need to speak with him,” he maintained firmly.

Her brows rose. “Do you doubt my word?”

“I have no reason to do so,” he answered noncommittally. “I merely wish to be informed firsthand of the conditions of your brother’s will so that I might follow them as diligently as you appear to be doing.”

She eyed him coldly. “Then of course you must visit my uncle at your earliest convenience, Your Grace.”

Andrew had no idea how, but every time this young woman addressed him by his title, it was as if she meant to deliver a verbal insult.

Inwardly, he was still coming to terms with the fact the beautiful Catriona was a widow. He knew that many young women had been made widows during the years of war against Napoleon, but it somehow seemed unfair that Catriona had been rendered such a devastating blow, especially when it was followed less than a year later by the death of her beloved brother and sister-in-law.

When Andrew had set out on this journey, it had been with a sense of duty and the intention of being in Scotland only long enough to take guardianship of his orphaned nephew before they returned to London together.

In none of Andrew’s plans had he taken into account the aunt who had written to him, or how, even if she were not Malcolm’s joint guardian, she might feel at having the boy summarily removed from her loving care.

Had he really grown so hard and uncaring that it had not even occurred to him that Malcolm’s aunt might object to the boy being removed from her and the only home he had ever known?

If so, was it any wonder that Catriona McGregor chose to address him with that edge of disdain in her voice?

“To that end, is it your intention to continue on to Inverness this evening?” She glanced out the window, where it was still full daylight, although the sun was starting to disappear behind the mountains in the distance. “Or perhaps we can offer you dinner and a bed for the night and you can continue your journey first thing in the morning?”

In other words, Andrew guessed wryly, this woman was letting him know she was reluctantly offering him accommodation and would suffer his company for a single night, but not for any longer than that.

“Will Malcolm be joining us for dinner?” He found himself drawn to Elena’s son enough to wish to spend more time in the boy’s company.

Deep blue eyes leveled on him. “He is only four and a half years old, Your Grace, and will, as usual, be in his bed by half past seven.”

Andrew frowned. “He is rather small for his age.”

“He was born six weeks prematurely,” Catriona explained softly. “For a time, we thought we might lose him altogether,” she added emotionally. “The birth was not an easy one, and afterward, Elena was informed she would be unable to have any more children.”

Andrew immediately felt a sense of shame for his previous thoughts regarding Malcolm being the reason for his sister’s hurried marriage to Hugh McGregor. The boy’s premature birth meant that Elena had probably become pregnant immediately after marrying McGregor. Knowing how much his sister had always wanted to marry and have a huge family, her disappointment at only being able to have the one child would have been immense.

When, exactly, had he become such an unyielding bastard that he had damned his sister as having an unseemly reason to elope?

Andrew knew it was the moment when he first learned his mother had run off with the butler, followed by his father, already ill and once again drunk, dying in the bed and arms of the latest “actress” to steal money from him while he lay unconscious. Except that last time, he had not been unconscious but dead, thus requiring that Andrew visit that young woman’s home to retrieve his father’s body.

Andrew had made a vow then and there to regain the good reputation of the Belgrade family, and for the next five years, he had succeeded in that endeavor. Until Elena had dealt their family esteem another blow by running off with McGregor.

But was that any reason for Andrew to have become so cold and heartless?

He had believed so at the time.

Did he believe it still?

Andrew’s thoughts were too fragmented at the moment for him to be sure what he currently thought or believed.

Firstly, that he only held joint guardianship of his nephew with the boy’s aunt.

An aunt who, in their very brief acquaintance, had affected Andrew more in a physical way than any other woman had in the past ten years.

He had not taken a vow of celibacy after the scandals involving his parents, but nor had he engaged in any physical relationships since. Not with courtesans or the married women of Society who believed it acceptable for them to have affairs outside their marriage. Affairs which, if they became public knowledge, might bring further shame to Andrew’s family name.

Perhaps the lack of physical relief, other than that given by his own right hand, was the reason for this unexpected reaction to Catriona McGregor?

The only thing Andrew