A frown drew down her brows, sending fresh pain through her head. How had she paid for the room? Or had−?
Loud footsteps echoed up the stairs outside her chamber, and Claudia froze. Her eyes were fixed on the door, and her mind was reeling with the thought that she was about to come face to face with whomever she had shared her bed with last night. Would she remember him? Or would he still be a stranger?
The echo grew louder as the man stormed down the corridor…and stopped outside her door.
Inhaling a deep breath, Claudia braced herself for what was to come when the door finally swung open…and her brother stormed in.
Seeing his face, Claudia almost sank to the floor as the air rushed from her lungs. Utter relief filled her, but only at first for the dark look on her brother’s face would have sent anyone running for the hills.
For a long moment, they merely looked at one another, speechless. Claudia could see the tension holding him rigid, the way his chest rose and fell as he tried his best to contain his anger, his outrage…his disappointment.
Her brother was not prone to losing his temper−never had been−but the quiet darkness that rested in his eyes sent chills down her back.
“What have you done?” he finally asked, his voice low and menacing as his silver eyes took in the room, the bed, her dishevelled state, the implications that hung in the air. “What were you thinking?”
Claudia felt her chin begin to quiver and tears sting the back of her eyes, and yet, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. Raising her chin, she met his eyes. “It was my choice, not yours. You have no right−”
“That it was,” he interrupted, raking a hand through his hair. In two large strides, he was in front of her, his hands gripping her by the upper arms. “This is without a doubt the most foolish thing you’ve ever done, and whether you like it or not, this time you’ll have to pay for it.”
Claudia gritted her teeth against the pain thudding behind her temples. “What did you expect when you all but locked me away? I am not free to do anything I want. I−”
“Don’t blame me for your mistakes!” he hissed before he stepped back and held the door open for her. “We shall discuss everything further at home.”
“If you insist,” Claudia snapped, relieved to at least have an answer delivered to her with regard to how she was to get home. Glaring at her brother, she stomped past him, along the corridor and down the stairs, all the while berating him, doing her best to ignore the pounding in her head.
“Be quiet!” he hissed once they’d reached the taproom. His eyes took in the many travellers coming and going before he took her by the arm and all but dragged her outside.
Despite digging in her heels, Claudia had no hope of delaying him. “You’re the most awful brother in all of England,” she retorted, wondering why on earth she was blaming him. And yet, she could not stop. She was not yet ready to face the mess she had made, and at present, he was the only one she could blame.
It was a distraction−nothing more−and one day she would have to face reality.
But tomorrow was soon enough.
Never would she have expected for the one adventure she had ever dared to embark upon to end in this way.
Never.
Chapter One - A Highlander in London
London, January 1809 (or a variation thereof)
Six months later
Garrett MacDrummond of Clan MacDrummond, who rarely travelled far from his home in the Scottish Highlands, stood in a corner of a London ballroom. His eyes swept over the throng of people dancing, chatting, laughing−enjoying themselves. If only he could join them, he thought with a snort.
“Anything?” Lord Tynham asked beside him, his kind brown eyes turning to look at Garrett. An Englishman himself, Lord Tynham had familial ties to Clan MacDrummond and had graciously invited Garrett to be his guest for the duration of his search.
Garrett shook his head. “I dunno understand this,” he said, unable to look away. “From what people say she’s always here at the beginning of the Season.”
“Perhaps they were delayed,” Lord Tynham suggested, and yet, the look in his eyes told Garrett that he doubted his own words.
From what Garrett had been able to gather since his arrival in town, his wife was a well-known member of English society. There were few who did not know her or know of her, and he had been able to learn a great deal about her love for dancing and mingling, her desire for adventure and unconventionality. Indeed, what he had learnt through discreet and well-placed questions had only confirmed Garrett’s own impression of the wayward Lass he had stumbled upon one night almost six months ago in Gretna Green.
“Perhaps you should seek out her brother,” Lord Tynham suggested, “and ask about her.”
Garrett sighed, “But he isna here either, is he?”
“That, however, is nothing unusual,” Lord Tynham stated. “The man is known for his reticent nature. He and his sister are like night and day. As much as she longs for company, he seems to prefer to keep to his own.”
Garrett nodded, his gaze still searching.
“Have you considered making the journey to Farnworth Manor?” Lord Tynham suggested next. “Perhaps the family has decided to skip town this season as they prefer to stay in the country.”
Garrett snorted, “I doubt she would’ve agreed to such a plan,” he said. “In any case, I did stop there before coming to London, but I was told the family wasna home.”
Lord Tynham frowned. “Over the holidays? That is quite unusual.”
Garrett nodded. It had struck him as odd as well. Still, short of breaking into the house and searching the premises for his wife, there had been very little he could have done. Instead, he had gone to London hoping to meet her here once the season began.
Now, that notion seemed to be a futile hope.
All he had found in London were whispers.
Rumours circulated about her eloping to Gretna Green with a man named William Montgomery, second son to the Earl of Mowbrey. Still, unlike Garrett’s wife, Mr. Montgomery had not failed to attend the first ball of the season−nor the ones following−and he had been decidedly unattached.
In fact, another rumour whispered of his upcoming nuptials to a duke’s daughter. Nothing was certain as of yet. However, that was how people preferred it as it gave them the opportunity to create their own versions of the truth.
When Garrett had first heard the rumour about his wife and Mr. Montgomery, he had been overcome with red-hot jealously, imagining his wife in that man’s arms. However, as time had passed, it had become clear that the whispers that saw them as young lovebirds were made of nothing but stale air.
Inhaling a deep breath, Garrett allowed his gaze to momentarily follow Mr. Montgomery as the man swept across the dance floor with a blond-haired beauty in his arms. His fiancée? Garrett did not know, but he knew that tongues were wagging without doubt.
Still, if his wife had been with Mr. Montgomery, at least that would have presented an explanation with regard to her whereabouts. At present, it seemed as though she had dropped off the face of the earth. What had happened?
Garrett was at a loss.
The following morning when he had returned to their room at the inn, his wife had been gone. No note. No explanation. Nothing. Only the innkeeper had informed him upon questioning that a young man−presumably English−had come to take her away. Apparently, she had yelled at him quite a bit, calling him the most awful brother in all of England.