Chapter 1

Chapter One

DECEMBER 19, 1910.

The carriage rattled along the dirt road, threatening to rock his body apart. He tried not to curse every bump in the road, every jerk of the carriage, every minute he was stuck in this damned rickety cart now. But he failed miserably at it.

Dr. Oscar Collins hated traveling by carriage—he far preferred his automobile, but the roads suitable for automobile travel hadn’t quite reached this ridiculously rural part of Texas yet. Modern transportation probably wouldn’t hit Garrity County, Texas, for decades. Possibly centuries—he wasn’t holding out much hope. Progress wasn’t exactly something that was prized in this kind of place.

Damned backwoods hellhole. He had no business even considering this…business. This was the part of Texas time had forgotten. He asked himself again why he wanted to be a part of it.

The carriage rolled through Garrity, the county seat—if it could be called that. There was a courthouse, a post office, a strip of stores down two sides of a “square’ and two churches. That was it. The county was growing—thanks to the great Dr. Iagan Coleson and his wife moving there a year ago to take over the large estate Iagan had started almost five years ago. Long before the man had even met the beautiful beast he had wedded. Colesons owned most of the county, now. Iagan had certainly been busy.

Iagan Coleson wanted holdings to rival what he’d come from in Scotland. And that meant land. Iagan wanted land to build his clan on—unlike his ancestors who had built theirs on coal mines—and the backs of those miners. Damned if the man wasn’t going to make it happen, either. Iagan’s brother Magnus had inherited what the Colesons had built before; Iagan had wanted adventure. And wanted something of his own . And had chosen Texas to find it.

Sometimes, Oscar did not know what that fool had been thinking.

It was the Colesons who had drawn Oscar to this little nowhere village, from where he’d been studying under a physician in Waco, learning what exactly X-ray machines could do. A remarkably useful machine. Another ten years, and they would be wide-spread, he hoped. But Garrity signaled he was getting closer to his destination. There were three towns in this county, one of them would surely take off and grow eventually—Coleson, Garrity, or Shadrach. Oscar wasn’t holding out much hope for any of them. Why Iagan had decided to settle in Garrity County remained a mystery to Oscar completely. It was just so damned random—except that the mines half a days’ ride probably reminded that redheaded lunatic of the town he’d come from. That was the only possible reason he could see. Iagan was keeping that ridiculously active brain of his occupied by studying ailments particular to minors lately. He seemed to believe something made those men sick at times, and was determined to identify what it was. It had been a bit of a quest for the man for some time.

Oscar envied Iagan his passion for things occasionally. It seemed like nothing really caught Oscar’s attention any longer. He was a bit bored, he supposed. Ennui had settled in long ago.

Coleson Hollow—just south of the actual brand-new town of Coleson, Texas— was still several hours out, according to the hired coachman when they’d stopped to let the most irritating travelers out of the carriage finally. His fellow passengers had been the cream of Garrity society—and had enjoyed telling him, a doctor from one of Waco’s best families, exactly that. And how he should visit them soon—meet their daughter. A mere girl of twenty, who was ready to settle down and have a home and family of her own. A girl of good breeding and education.

He’d gotten the hint: a girl perfect for a wealthy doctor from one of the best families in Texas.

Marriage at all was not in Dr. Oscar Collins’ immediate plans.

He shuddered, even imagining. Twenty. He was thirty-two, an experienced man. Worldly. He’d spent four years studying medicine in Scotland and England and France. He prided himself on being sophisticated—especially where women were concerned. He was a man who had nothing to gain from having a relationship with a woman so young. Except for things a gentleman would not mention. Things that he had not experienced in far too long—and wasn’t about to get to in Garrity County any time soon, either.

But finally, they were gone. And he could relax. Turn his thoughts to what would inevitably happen. He had been waiting for this for damned near a year. Longer—he had just had to wait until Iagan was less distracted by her.

The monster Iagan adored. The man’s new wife.

Finally, the carriage stopped.

Oscar had arrived and could get out of that infernal carriage. He didn’t wait for the coachman. He opened the door himself. He was a man with things to do.

Oscar took his first look around Coleson Estate since his old friend had married the most beautiful woman in the world. The woman Oscar had wanted for himself once. Until she’d chosen Iagan Coleson instead. Since she had been locked in Iagan’s stateroom on the ship at the time, it made sense. She’d been stuck with the fiancé she hadn’t wanted. Iagan had had the first claim on her affections, having carried her off in a daring rescue that had nearly gotten all three of them killed.

She had not exactly been pleased to have been carried out of her home country against her will. Elspeth had made it quite known. To Iagan and Oscar both. But they were happy now. He wished them nothing but the best. Iagan could certainly afford to give her the best.

Oscar was no stranger to wealth—his own family’s holdings in Houston and Waco ensured he had never wanted for anything—but the Coleson estate was different. It wasn’t ostentatious like some sprawling Texas ranches. It went far beyond ostentatious, in Oscar’s opinion. Instead, it exuded frank dominance, a kind of success earned through sheer force of will. Iagan was one of the most obstinate creatures the world had ever seen. He reveled in it, too. The yellow limestone dominated, and almost shone.

And it belonged to his closest friend in the world—Dr. Iagan Coleson. Iagan was a brilliant physician, one of the finest Oscar had ever met, but he was also damned lucky. Iagan had earned the respect of everyone in Garrity County, and the entire medical field of Texas for his work—and now Iagan had everything a man could want.

Iagan had her . Elspeth.

Oscar wouldn’t dare admit, even to himself, how often he’d thought of her since their introduction. It was a quiet, distant admiration, but it left an uncomfortable bitterness all the same. It had taken him too damned long to recognize that bitterness for what it was—envy.

He envied Iagan that woman who adored him. Envy and ennui—two emotions that apparently guided Oscar’s life now.

Oscar had everything money could buy, but he was alone now. Every woman he’d been interested in over the last few years had wanted one thing from him—what he could give her. Money grasping social climbers, the lot of them.

His mentor at the Finley Creek hospital had told him he was just meeting the wrong kind of women, but Oscar had his doubts. He’d give anything to meet a woman who made him feel the way Iagan said Elspeth had done to him.

But Oscar was also a cynic. There was only one Elspeth McCoy in the world. Not another woman like her out there anywhere. And he would settle for nothing less than the best.

The driver stepped down, calling out to the estate’s house staff, who rushed forward to unload Oscar’s bags. He took his time descending, brushing the travel dust from his coat, and surveyed the Coleson home. Coleson Manor.

Hell, it was more of Scottish Keep than anything, though it certainly looked modern and American enough to him.

It was more substantial than he remembered, with its wide veranda and brick exterior. Iagan had built a few additions. There were multiple chimneys, landscaped gardens, and signs of prosperity everywhere he looked. Including the ground broken a fifth of a mile away from the house, and the batch of two dozen men working at prepping the ground for something. Something big. Something important. Oscar had studied it from the carriage window.

It was going to be a lot more massive than he had anticipated.

He suspected he knew what that something was . It was why he was there in the first place. He had just been waiting for the letter. For the request. Iagan was great at the ideas—but when it came to the execution, that was where Oscar shined.

Hadn’t he carried an unwilling Elspeth onto that ship for Iagan that day in the first place? Iagan had been a bit too bruised to abduct a woman at the time, after all.

“And there he is!” Iagan was there—looking imposing and important like he always did. Even though he was still ridiculously tall—he was a good two inches taller than Oscar’s own six-four—and too damned thin. And too damned red. Wild red curls stuck up all over the man’s head, almost comically. His cheeks were sun reddened, too. Just…red, everywhere. He’d probably build his clan soon, one far-too-skinny redheaded baby at a time. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed,” Oscar replied, managing a faint smile as Iagan gripped his hand firmly. Iagan was exuberant in everything he did—Oscar was most definitely not.

Behind Iagan, a figure appeared—Elspeth. Not overly tall, maybe five-seven or so, but the woman had a presence . People just watched her wherever she went. Especially men. She never seemed aware of it at all. Another reason Oscar found her fascinating.

“Oscar! What a joy to see you again.” She was always smiling, this woman. Happy—Iagan made her happy now. A far cry from how she had been when they had first met her all those months ago. Met her, bedded her, and wed her—that was exactly what Iagan had done.

Now, she was here in Texas. Building a life with the man she loved. A man who could and would give her everything. Damn, Iagan was a lucky bastard.

But then again, the man was one of the best men Oscar had ever known. Iagan was a far better man than Oscar Collins, after all. If any man deserved a woman like Elspeth McCoy, it was Iagan.

“The pleasure is mine.” It was remarkable how even the simplest greeting from her could unsettle him. This was the perfect woman, after all. But she was Iagan’s. He’d have to remember that.

“Come inside, out of this chill,” Iagan said, steering him toward the front door.

His warm welcome made Oscar feel guilty. That envy thing rearing its ugly head again. He was there to help his friend, yes, but there had also been that question of what he could benefit from it, too. Calculating. Oscar had been accused of being calculating far too often. Sometimes even by the man in front of him. Iagan knew him—flaws and all. And welcomed him anyway.

He always had thought Iagan was a bit too trusting.

“Elspeth’s got a grand meal planned, and you’ll meet some new faces.” Iagan practically beamed at his wife, one hand on her shoulder. “Beautiful ones.”

Inside, the warmth of the fire and the chatter of voices immediately surrounded him. Iagan gestured to a large sitting room where several young women stood in a cluster near the hearth.

Oscar studied them, just as much as they studied him.

“Allow me to introduce our newest arrivals from Scotland,” Iagan said. “Elspeth has outdone herself. These are the special young friends she grew up with in Braeford. They are…here now. I want you to meet them—they just arrived a week ago. They’ll be staying with us until they are settled.”

Oscar tried not to wince. This was the last thing he had expected to find. Iagan should have warned him. They were young—perhaps in their early twenties, every one of them a very pretty girl. Eye-catching.

Elspeth began naming them one by one.

Oscar tried not to let his irritation and panic show.

The last thing he’d expected was to entertain a bunch of young ladies. The instant they heard the words unmarried wealthy physician , he was probably going to be hunted like a game bird.

Damn it. Iagan should have warned him.

“This is Agnes Stewart,” she said, motioning to a tall, confident-looking brunette with a ready smile. Definitely a beautiful woman. At any other time, he’d have looked twice.

“Mora Sinclair,” Elspeth said next, motioning to a very nicely curved redheaded woman near the hearth, who just watched him appraisingly. There was an intensity about her gaze that was a bit unsettling. Like she just knew things about him with merely one look.

“Isobel Cairns,” she added, pointing to a fair-haired young woman who just nodded quietly and looked away. There was a sadness about her, a frailty. Very shy, this one. But…sweet looking. Someone would take her off Iagan’s hands quickly enough, he suspected. Biddable—he suspected she was biddable. Some men would enjoy that.

Oscar preferred fire, honestly. More of a challenge that way.

“And finally, not to be forgotten, our little Beatrice Ardis,” she finished, her tone softening. She held out a hand, almost beckoningly. Oscar looked, at the fourth girl. The one he had barely seen earlier, hidden behind two of her friends as she was. “Come, Beatrice, say hello.”

This little Beatrice was definitely small and slight, with pale skin and dark almost reddish hair braided neatly over one shoulder. She did not curtsy like the others; instead, she inclined her head slightly, her gray eyes staring at him a bit rudely before she looked away. Almost dismissively.

He wanted to smirk at her. Who was this little bird to look at him like that?

“Ladies,” Oscar said with a polite bow, though his tone was distant. He saw nothing remarkable about them. Certainly, they were fine young women, very pretty, too, but nothing remarkable enough to distract him from his purpose in being there, so close to Christmas. He turned back to Iagan. “You’ve been busy. And your letter sounded urgent. I came as soon as I could.”

“You could say that. Elspeth was determined to bring them over, and the house has been livelier for it. As for you—I need your help. Some…investors aren’t quite as informed about the technology we want as they should be. Or don’t see a need for it. I disagree. We can discuss it soon.”

Investors weren’t necessary to this project. Oscar would tell Iagan that, when the time was right. If Iagan needed an investor, Oscar was going to be it. Oscar most certainly wanted in.

Elspeth gave Oscar a pointed look. “They’ve endured a great deal, traveling this far. I expect you to be kind to them, Dr. Collins. This place is all new to them, and I expect you to mind your manners. None of your flirting games, sir. None. Not with my girls.”

She knew him so very well.

“Of course.” He doubted he’d have much cause to interact with them. His purpose here was to discuss hospital business with Iagan, not mingle with a gaggle of young women. And the young was a bit obvious. Especially that Isobel and Beatrice. Was that little Beatrice even out of her teens yet? He could not be certain.

The hours passed. He had to say, the ladies gave him plenty of space. None even tried to get his attention. Unlike most women in his experience. He wondered at it. After dinner, they retreated to the family sitting room. Where the hearth Elspeth had wanted dominated. The ladies took the sitting area near the small fire. Three sat all huddled together with their hostess, but the fourth…

The girl Beatrice sat apart from the others, a book open on her lap, a kerosene lamp right next to her. She was a sweet looking girl.

Her lips moved faintly as she read. Oscar watched her, amused by the little quirk. Did she always read aloud to herself? She seemed utterly lost in the pages, oblivious to the people around her. And no one else seemed to mind that the girl was being rather rude, especially to her hosts. In fact, they almost seemed to coddle her for it. Elspeth even adjusted the lamp for her.

Curious, he stepped closer and caught a glimpse of the title: Waverley by Sir Walter Scott.

“A fine choice,” he said, just wanting to see how she would react to direct conversation. She had not spoken to him at all during dinner. Not even once. Just looked at him from big gray eyes.

Beatrice startled a bit—then closed the book and looked up at him. Had she not even realized he was there? Her expression was wary; she tilted her head like a bird considering whether to flee.

Bird definitely described her—dainty and delicate.

Helpless. She had a helpless look about her. Women like that had always irritated him.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re quite absorbed in it.”

“It’s a good story. I wish to finish it before bed.” The words held a real hint. She wanted to finish the book—and not be talking to him. Little Beatrice wasn’t interested in the unmarried wealthy doctor in her midst at all. How unusual.

Not exactly what he had expected. Young women like her always wanted to talk to him. Especially once they knew what he could offer. He was from one of the wealthiest families in Texas —didn’t she care? He was one of the best prospects in the entire state of Texas right now.

Oscar paused, studied her more closely. He wasn’t used to being dismissed so easily. “You don’t find the characters a bit idealized?”

Beatrice blinked at him, then shrugged as if she found him slightly lacking in intelligence. “Sometimes. But a bit of idealism isn’t such a bad thing.”

Before he could respond, she stood. She pulled the book to her chest and just looked up at him. “Excuse me.”

She was so small. Delicate. With some of the softest looking skin he had ever seen. And her eyes were pure gray. Not blue at all. She was the most beautiful of the girls, in that classic, timeless sense. Even more than Elspeth.

Oscar watched as she joined the other women near the hearth, her movements quick and deliberate. He felt an odd pang of… something. Annoyance? Amusement? Whatever it was, he dismissed it.

She was peculiar, that was all. Just a very peculiar girl.