Chapter Four

F lora followed the trail of the carriage with a forlorn expression. Lennox’s rejection had tied her feelings into knots, and she felt on the verge of tears. With a deep breath, she gathered her emotions under control before turning around to greet her friends, an act she dreaded that morning because of the questions they would ask, questions she had avoided. However, with Lennox’s appearance last night at the Lockharts’ residence and her intense reaction to him, it would only have led to her friends’ curiosities.

Flora glanced at the benches they met at to find her friends’ gazes upon her. She avoided them by searching for the children, but the vast lawn was empty of any children playing nearby. They had come alone to focus their complete attention on her. If she thought of escaping Lennox’s clutches, she would be unable to once she confessed the truth of their relationship. Not one lady would intervene on her behalf after they heard her secret.

Flora didn’t bother pasting on a false smile when she reached her friends. They would see through it at once. They had grown close like sisters over the past two years throughout the scandal they had endured and the drama that now invaded their lives. Even while Vivian and Grace found happiness and security, their bond of friendship had never faltered. They managed to escape the unknown threat that darkened their time in Scotland, and their husbands offered their protection to her and Sara.

Sara had no need for protection because her employer kept her safe as if she were his wife. It would not surprise Flora if her friend found herself married to Somerville. The duke was more than enchanted by her friend, as was his daughter. And who could blame them? Sara was a gentle soul who still held her innocence in the damaged world they lived in.

“Good mornin’, ladies.” Flora sat on the bench next to Sara. Her Scottish brogue rang clear. She had perfected an English accent during her course of being a governess. However, any time spent in the company of a Scottish barbarian and she swiftly reverted to her heritage. Also, why should she hide her true nature? Especially to her friends. If she had learned anything while surrounded by them, it was how they would never abandon her, no matter the circumstances. They would only form a tighter bond.

Sara reached out to squeeze Flora’s hand. “Good morning, Flora.”

Vivian and Grace murmured their greetings with curious expressions. However, neither of them questioned the means of her arrival. No. They waited for her to confess the true nature of her relationship with Lord Hepburn, who was no more a lord than she was a demure governess.

“Where are the children?” Flora inquired.

“Calum thought it best to keep them at home,” Grace offered.

Flora frowned. “Why so?”

Grace glanced at Vivian at how best to respond. After Vivian gave Grace an encouraging nod, Grace explained. “Because of the underlying threat still surrounding us and to give us a chance to offer you our full attention if you would so wish to discuss Lord Hepburn.”

Flora pressed at an imaginary crease along her skirts. “Now why would I wish to discuss Lord Hepburn?”

“No reason, dear.” Sara tried to smooth it over.

“No reason at all,” Vivian replied with a touch of sarcasm.

Which was only fair because of how Flora had voiced her objections to Vivian’s circumstances in the past. She couldn’t blame their curiosities. However, her confession would shock them, and she worried how the news would affect their friendship.

Grace frowned at Vivian’s response. “No pressure, Flora. We are here to show our support and friendship, no matter what you wish to divulge.”

“However, if you feel so inclined to feed our curiosity, we have no reason to object,” Vivian added.

“Vivian,” Sara attempted to reprimand in her governess voice.

Vivian smirked. “I only offer that, as her friends, we are here to listen, not judge.”

Grace offered Flora a smile. “No pressure, dear.”

Flora sighed. “Yet there is. If not, then once we join the gentlemen, you will learn my secret.” Under her breath, she muttered, “Because lord knows the barbarian will not keep silent.”

“Barbarian?” Sara asked.

“Aye,” Flora snarled.

Vivian rubbed her hands together in her excitement at Flora’s change in temperament. “A most enticing barbarian, in my opinion.”

“Vivian!” Sara reprimanded again.

Grace blushed. “I too must agree.”

Sara stared at Vivian and Grace in astonishment. “You ladies are married.”

“Yes, love, we are. But not unable to admire a fine specimen such as Lord Hepburn,” Vivian explained.

Sara turned to Flora. “I apologize for our friends’ behavior.”

Flora attempted a smile. “No need. They only speak the truth. Lord Hepburn is a maddeningly fine specimen indeed. However, the gentleman is no lord.”

Grace gasped. “Then he is an imposter?”

A worried expression flittered across Sara’s features. “He is meeting with the duke.”

Flora wrapped an arm around Sara to reassure her. “He is harmless and not a threat in the slightest.”

Vivian narrowed her gaze and accused, “How can you be so certain? He could be the culprit behind the threatening letters.”

Flora sighed. “Nay, he is not.”

She paused before she revealed the truth. Her confession would set the course of her future, one she had run from but now needed to divulge the truth so she may live the rest of her life in peace. The discovery of her secret only compounded her stress over the past two years. Either from her peers or from those she ran from. Today, it would end with her declaration. It was time to confront the inevitable.

“He is my husband.”

~~~~~

H EPBURN WAITED IN THE foyer for the butler to announce him to the duke. When he failed to present the servant with a calling card, the butler bristled with distaste. The rituals of these toffs never ceased to annoy him. They portrayed a set of rules about proper decorum that would cause any sane individual to lose themselves in the wild. He couldn’t wait to return to the Highlands and enjoy civilization as it was meant to be. However, for now, he would have to play the game for Flora’s sake.

“If you would follow me, Lord Hepburn, the duke shall see you now,” the butler directed.

Of course, the duke would see him. After all, it was the duke who had scheduled the appointment. The butler led him to an opulent study that showcased the duke’s esteemed standing in society. Every surface gleamed with beeswax, and the furniture showcased quality craftsmanship. It shouldn’t have surprised him with the duke’s forthright directiveness. Yet, each time he met with a peer of the aristocracy, it left him astounded by the difference in how he led his life with simplicity.

“Welcome, Lord Hepburn,” Somerville greeted him upon his entrance.

Hepburn stepped deeper into the room to notice the gentlemen from the previous nights had risen on his arrival. Hepburn nodded for them to resume their seats. Once he settled in the chair opposite them, Somerville dismissed the butler.

“Please allow me to make proper introductions. You caught us unaware the previous evening, and we were remiss with our manners,” Somerville started.

“’Tis no need, Somerville. I am knowledgeable about each gentleman in this room and their relationship with the ladies close to Flora.”

“Miss Grant, you mean,” Somerville growled.

Hepburn ignored Somerville’s rebuke at how he intimately addressed Flora. Flora was no more Miss Grant to him than he was Lord Hepburn to her. They were Lennox and Flora.

“You have us at a disadvantage then, since we know not a scrap of information about you,” Lockhart replied.

Hepburn crossed his leg over his knee. “’Twas my intent.”

Courtland, always the diplomat, attempted to persuade Hepburn to clarify himself. “Perhaps you care to explain.”

“Perhaps after you answer my questions.”

Somerville must have realized Hepburn would reveal no information about himself until he created the mood. The duke rose to grab glasses and a bottle of whiskey. After he poured each gentleman a drink, he offered them cigars. When everyone declined the smoke and nursed their drink, the duke made another attempt for Hepburn to reveal himself.

“From your accent, you must hail from the Highlands.”

“Aye.”

“Is that where you became acquainted with Miss Grant?” Lockhart asked.

Hepburn scoffed. “If that is how you wish to refer to our association.”

“There is more to your relationship then,” Courtland mused.

“Aye,” Hepburn answered again.

The gentlemen sipped at their whiskeys while studying Hepburn. They wondered how to approach him with their gentlemanly manners, but he wanted to irritate them to demand answers. Only then would he feel confident they meant to protect what was theirs, to the degree he meant to protect Flora. If they continued with the prim attempt to question him, then he would take his leave. So far, they proved they didn’t hold the strength to align with him.

“I am unacquainted with your family. The last I heard, Lord Hepburn passed away some time ago,” Somerville commented.

“Aye. Five years past,” Hepburn agreed.

“Why did you not claim the title sooner?” Courtland asked.

“There was no purpose until now.”

“Why now?” Lockhart bit out between gritted teeth.

Hepburn leaned back in the chair with a grin. Finally, one gent was losing patience with his simple answers. Leave it to his fellow Scotsman to show some gumption. Somerville might be Scottish, but he leaned more toward the dignified Scotsman who split his loyalties between England and Scotland. Courtland was an Englishman through and through and only resided in Scotland because of his wards, while Lockhart rode the fence between dignified and wild if the rumors were true. Soon, Lockhart would fold and show his demand for the answers Hepburn was more than willing to share. He only needed proof that the gentlemen held enough worth to reveal the answers.

Hepburn shrugged to antagonize them more. “Because it suits my purpose.”

Somerville cocked his eyebrow. “Or more because it allows you to aid a conspirator with their revenge.”

Hepburn’s amusement changed to a defensive nature. “That is twice you made the assumption of my character. I will not take so kindly at another insult.”

“Your evasiveness leads us to make assumptions. Your absence and the reason you employed Miss Grant for governess duties point to nefarious deeds on your part,” Courtland explained.

Hepburn’s amusement returned with a wicked chuckle at Courtland. “I believe I have your wife to thank for leading Miss Grant back into my life.”

Lockhart slammed his glass down onto the side table. “Enough of your vague answers. Somerville graciously invited you into his home to discuss the threats centered around my wife and her friends. If you have nothing to contribute, then we can only assume your involvement is immoral at best. Which leads us to take measures to remove Miss Grant from your clutches.”

Hepburn tipped his glass to the gentlemen before throwing back the drink. “Finally, a response I can acknowledge and respect. While you gentlemen hesitated to accept me at my word, I am inclined to reciprocate with the same regard to each of you. I needed proof of your character to trust you would protect Flora as one of your own.”

The room grew quiet as the gentlemen assessed Hepburn and the truth of his words. Hepburn waited with patience for them to accept he was an ally in the fight against the threats upon the ladies they cared for. While his absence in the past few months didn’t display him well, his explanation soon would. If anything, his absence gave him insight into activities they were clueless about. Hopefully, once they compared information, it would lead them a step closer to the culprit behind the threats invading their lives.

“Are you in truth Lord Hepburn?” Somerville questioned.

“Aye. I inherited the title from my grandfather.”

Courtland retrieved his glass to take a drink. “Why assume the title now?”

“To protect Flora .” He emphasized the lass’s name to make a point.

Lockhart rose from his seat to refill his glass. “May we ask what the relationship is between Miss Grant and yourself?”

Hepburn waited for Lockhart to resume his seat before he shocked them with his answer. While they thought Flora was an innocent miss who sought employment as a governess, it was far from the truth of her actual existence. She wasn’t the prim and proper lady they had become acquainted with but a wild and carefree lass who ran through the countryside in abandonment with hair hanging to her waist. A lass he had destroyed because of his damn pride.

“She is my wife.”