Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Do you love my brother? The question ran as a litany in her head as Ciara rode with her cousin toward the home they were staying at, her Aunt Fiona’s. She had gone to Ireland to search out her kinsmen. To her immense surprise, they had welcomed her with open arms, Bryn also. They had been saddened by the news of her father’s death.

Her grandfather, Rory McKay, Laird of Clan McKay, had asked her to stay for a while. She compromised with them to stay in the Randolph house while she concluded her business in England. Her Aunt Fiona had married an English viscount and they resided—much to her surprise—not far from Heartstone. Her grandfather and some of the clan had come on the journey and she found herself surrounded by family that loved her.

Did she? Did she love him? Probably. Regardless of her being so different from him, she did love him. Her newfound family smiled at her unconventional ways and applauded her success with raising Bryn on her own.

Bryn loved the attention. Being a great-grandson was a big thing for him. He was happy with his cousins, but he loved most to sit on his great-grandfather’s lap and listen to stories of when his grandpa was a tyke.

Going back to America would be hard on him. As Bryn rode ahead, Conar looked at her. Her cousin was forever flirting with her and she could only laugh. “What happened for you to send Faolan to us, lass?”

“Some of the duke’s men were whipping Bryn. We couldn’t stay there. Nae, Conar. Head home. I took care of it. It’s over.”

“You’ve a family, lass, that loves ya. If they attack you, they attack us.” Conar trembled with anger but turned his horse back around at her request.

“No. I don’t want any more trouble. Please. Can we just go home?”

“Aye. As you wish it. We have the party tomorrow night. Are you excited?”

“To be paraded around like an object? No. I will go because Auntie Fi has gone through so much to set it up. I would rather be in the open away from these people. They make my head hurt to tell the truth.”

“I agree. But you promised to attend and dance a waltz with me. I intend to hold you to that.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“I don’t intend to let ye forget it.”

“Conar. I would have your word that you will keep calm about this. Please. If it gets out, there is no telling what will happen. To either side.”

“Are ye content with the punishment of the ones who did it?”

“As content as I can be.” In her mind there was nothing that would ever make it okay.

“Ye love him.” A statement. “The marquess, he is the father o’ Bryn, right?”

“Aye. He is and I do.”

“Why dinna he marry ye, lass, when he found out about the bairn?”

They dismounted at the house. As they walked in, Conar steered her into the study, where her aunt and uncle-by-marriage sat, unbeknownst to her. Bryn headed for bed with Kosse and Faolan.

“Well, lass? Why dinna he?”

“He didn’t know, Conar. Today was the first day he saw his son. I never told him.”

Conar sat hard on a chair as his breath escaped him. Fi and her husband, Trenton, sat in silence as they listened to the story. “How, lass? How could ye do that to the man? A man has a right to know his children.” His tone admonished and that made her feel worse.

“I know what I did was wrong, but…” She rose and paced the room. “Damn it, Conar. When he told me about his family I saw nothing but hate in his face. After he had left and come back here and I found out I was carrying his baby, all I could think about was the hate he said he grew up around. I couldn’t let that happen to Bryn. He deserved to have love. Like I did.

“I know that I’m not rich like he is, but I gave my son something that he wouldn’t have gotten here. Love. If he had been raised here, he would have known his father in passing only. If that wouldn’t have bad enough for him to endure, to be labeled the bastard child of the marquess would have been. He is my son. Mine!” Tears streamed unchecked down her face.

“Damn him. Why do I have to love him?” Ciara crumpled to the floor and sobbed. Trenton motioned for Conar to come with him while Fi saw to Ciara.

* * * *

“My lord, you have a visitor.” Weeks walked forward with the calling card on the silver platter.

Lucien picked up the card. It read Viscount Trenton. “Show him in, Weeks.” He knew of the viscount. An older gentleman who lived on property that bordered his own. Rather a quiet man. He wondered what this could be about.

Christie was somewhere with his stepbrother and his parents had left after dinner to head back to London. He was grateful for that at least.

The door opened and the viscount was shown in. “My lord.”

“Saint, please. What can I do for you, Trenton?”

“I come to you on a serious matter.”

“Speak. Would you care for a drink?”

“Brandy please.” Trenton sat in a chair that faced the desk.

Lucien made them both a drink and sat down across from the viscount. He noticed the direction of his gaze and merely waited for a comment.

“Nice carving.”

“I think so.”

“If I may ask, where did you get it?”

“A gift. Did you come all this way at night to ask me about a statue you didn’t know I had?” Lucien raised a brow and waited for him to continue.

The viscount appeared nonplussed. “I have come for two reasons. The first to extend a welcome to the party my wife is throwing tomorrow night.”

“I am not sure if I will be available.”

“It is a party to introduce my niece to the families in the area.”

Great, a matchmaking party. Just what I don’t need. He needed to find out who that man, McKay, was that Ciara rode off with. “As I said, I am not sure of my schedule. I may be able to put in an appearance.”

“That would be wonderful. It begins at ten o’clock. The second item is of a more delicate nature. My niece fancies herself in love with you. Although she tries to deny it, my wife and I know this for a fact.”

“Sir.” The imperious tone of one talking down to a member of lesser status coming out. “I am sorry that your niece fancies that. I don’t believe I know your niece and with this new information I shouldn’t make an appearance at your party for fear of encouraging her further.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, but is there someone that you fancy?”

“You, sir, are out of line. You are right—it is none of your business. However, I will answer your question. Yes. My attentions are otherwise occupied and will not be squandered on some country miss.”

Trenton rose. He set the glass on the desk then showed himself to the door. With his back to the marquess, he allowed himself a grin. At the door he turned and spoke, “I do apologize if I have offended, my lord. It’s just that my niece claims you know her in a—shall we say—biblical sense.”

Lucien rose from the chair, fury evident in every line of his body. “Are you saying that your niece claims I slept with her? Sir, unless you have proof of this you should leave before I lose my good nature. I have not slept with any country miss. Your niece, sir, is a liar. Good night, Viscount Trenton.”

Trenton opened the door and slid through the opening. As he turned to pull the door shut, he stopped and glanced at the marquess. The man looked angry enough to spit nails. “With all due respect, sir, my niece doesn’t lie. And before you say anything else, I do have proof. A child.”

“A child? I don’t have children.” Except one. And he doesn’t know about me.

A sad look came over Trenton’s face. “That is a shame, my lord. I shall tell my niece she must be wrong. Perhaps she will come to apologize as well. I thought you knew her. Her name is Ciara McKay.”

Lucien sat frozen as he heard the words. His niece. Ciara McKay. Oh god, what had he done? Trenton had said that his niece was in love with him. Ciara loved him. She loved him.

And he’d told her uncle he didn’t have children. Amidst a groan, he yelled for Weeks. When the butler arrived, he asked, “Did we get an invitation to the Trenton party?”

“Of course, my lord. You chose to decline.”

“Damn. Can we secure another one?”

“Excuse me, my lord, I believe that your sister received one as well and accepted.” Lucien waved his hand and Weeks nodded. “I will get her, my lord.”

When his sister entered his study, his mission was almost planned. “You sent for me?”

“Devonna. Come sit down. Did you get an invite to the Trenton party?”

“Yes. The party is tomorrow night.”

“I wish to accompany you.” At her raised brows, he just shrugged. “I have to get out sometime.”

“Um-hum. As you say. Is that all?”

“What? Oh, yes.”

Lucien stayed at his desk, staring at the wolf. Picking it up, he looked at the words engraved although he had them memorized.

Wolf,

Aim to the heavens for your dreams,

No matter the obstacle, you will triumph.

He set down the statue. Oh yes. His plan was made. He spoke aloud to the room as he walked to the door and smiled. “Okay, Ciara. You said yourself, no matter the obstacle I will triumph. You are my dreams, you and Bryn, and I will get rid of all obstacles. Your days of being single are numbered, princess. I am coming for you.”

Lucien stepped into the hall and ordered his horse. If he rode hard, he could catch up to his parents. “While you’re at it, get my carriage and take Ms. Smyth back to her home.”

Rafe shot him a strange look as he headed for the door.

“Care for some company?”

“I ride to overcome some obstacles. If you care to join me, feel free.”

Rafe sent word for his mount. “I feel I have to go with you, for this mood you are in is a strange one. Care to explain it to me?”

“On the way.” The men swung up onto their horses and set their heels to them. They rode fast and hard. After about two hours of hard riding they came up on the carriage that carried the duke and duchess.

“Stop the carriage.”

“We are being robbed,” a servant screamed.

“I am the duke’s son. I wish to speak to him.”

The carriage stopped. Lucien rode over to the window and waited for the duke to pull back the covering. “I am here to let you know that I have every intention of marrying Ciara. Her…our son will be my heir. If you can accept that you will be welcome back at Heartstone anytime. If not, I never want to see you again.

“You see, I learned something when I was with her in America. She taught me that having someone’s love is the most important thing. All the riches in the world are useless without someone to share them with. Bottom line, I love her. If I can convince her to marry me, I will do so that very day. I will not give her another chance to turn me down.” His stepmother gasped and sputtered but the duke silenced her with a wave of the hand.

“She opened my eyes to love. True love, something that before I met her I had no idea what it was. You never showed us love growing up. I had hatred in my heart when I spoke of you, which is part of the reason she did not let me know of my son. Now all I feel is pity. I pity the both of you, for you are bitter and hateful to those around you. You wear your title like a shield and don’t allow anyone to know you have feelings. I don’t understand because you sought a mistress so you must have wanted something.

“I dream of the love that her parents had. I find myself wanting her to glance at me and smile a smile that only I know what it means. I think that the title of the Black Marquess is gone forever. I really don’t care what you do with this information. Devonna will be getting married at my estate. You could try to make it up to her, to show up, show your support. I am not sure what happened to her. I have been searching for seven years and I still don’t know.

“If you wish to be a part of your grandchild’s life, you will do so on my terms. But if you hurt him again, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Goodbye.”

He wheeled his horse around and he and Rafe headed back toward his house.