Now Tavish’s heart ceased beating in his chest for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t feign innocence with me, boy. Everyone in Edinburgh is aware of the painful situation in which you’ve placed the lovely Miss Keane—especially her father. I know Glenna Douglas warms your bed. I even know that just last night you ripped off her clothes before savaging her. Not that I blame you one whit—she is exquisite, and I want her for myself. Already, I imagine what I will do to—”
Tavish’s anger was white-hot. “How did you get into the Tower last night?”
“Why, I only just arrived here an hour ago. I’m offended you would think me worthy of such a petty crime. But it should teach you that I know absolutely everything that has gone on at Roscraig since your arrival, and even everything that’s happened before. I’m quite good at finding things out. You have no secrets from me.”
Hargrave leaned in even closer. “For instance, I know that you beat your own stepfather to death with a poker. Eh?” Hargrave leaned away with a nod and a chuckle. “No secrets. No shame. I’m certain he deserved it. It felt good, didn’t it, lad? Beating that old bastard like he’d beat your poor, peasant mother. Beating him until his brai—”
Tavish lunged forward and seized Hargrave by his gilded tunic. But the man unexpectedly moved toward him and threw his arm around Tavish in a hearty embrace with a roar of laughter and lifted his chalice high even as Tavish struggled away.
“To Tavish Cameron, laird of Roscraig!” Hargrave announced, and the hall answered him with a chorus of “Huzzah!”
Tavish stood in the center of the floor as the guests drank to his name, his chest heaving, his mind whirling. Hargrave winked at him and then raised his cup again.
“Welcome to the nobility, Tavish Cameron.” He drank, and his smile was still visible in his flat, gray eyes over the rim of his cup.
Chapter 15
Glenna was surprised when her next revolution in the dance brought her around face-to-face with the imposing Lord Vaughn Hargrave. He took her outstretched hand without hesitation, pulling Glenna along in the steps so that they missed not even a quarter beat. They stepped toward each other, twisting their torsos in opposing directions for a count of three.
“We meet again, Lady Glenna,” Lord Hargrave said with a confident smile.
“Lord Hargrave, you surprise me,” she said.
They stepped away from each other, bowed, and then turned to the partner behind. The steps were repeated before Glenna was in his grasp again, this time for a slow, skipping circuit around a new set of paired dancers. His ability exceeded that of a man half his age.
“I am surprised at your surprise,” he said, continuing their conversation. “Of course I would seek to gobble up any crumbs of time with the lady of Roscraig. Your beauty and grace restore my weary soul.”
Glenna felt her cheeks heat at the flattery, but there was an uneasy sensation in her stomach. “You are too kind.”
“Not kind at all, my dear. Only selfish. You would be a sensation at the balls in Northumberland. Have you ever been to England?” They filed into the center of the circuit as the other dancers began to skip about the perimeter. Hargrave bowed.
Glenna curtsied. “I have not.”
They stepped toward each other and joined right hands again before turning away from each other and walking as if around a maypole.
“You absolutely must come to Darlyrede. As my very special guest.”
Glenna had to force herself to swallow as they changed both hands and directions. It didn’t matter what she told him—she still had the option of escape on theStygianwith the dawn—and yet his boldness made her uncomfortable. “I am an unmarried woman, Lord Hargrave, and my father is quite ill. It would be unseemly of me to depart Roscraig without his permission.”
“Unattached, are you?” Hargrave pressed, the words spoken in such a way that Glenna looked into his eyes. “I am loath to admit that there have been rumors about your…arrangementwith the Laird Cameron. I would not mention it, save that I am concerned for your future, my dear.”
“My future is none of your affair,” Glenna said stiffly, her face flaming once more. “We are strangers.”
“Be not shamed in my presence,” Hargrave insisted in a low, earnest voice as they came together once more. “My own daughter would be only a handful of years older than you had she lived, so you must understand my motive at seeing so fine and beautiful a young noblewoman so sorely used. None in Northumberland know of this tempest brought on by Tavish Cameron’s arrival. My wife and I would be pleased to host you in the search for a suitable match should King James’s decision not favor you.”
Glenna looked up again. “Your wife?”
Hargrave’s eyes widened, and then he threw his head back and laughed his hearty, amused laugh. “Oh, my dear, you are precious. Forgive me for not being more clear. I knew your father very briefly when he was a young man. I have kept Roscraig—and you—in my thoughts these thirty years. And it seems I have arrived in just the nick of time. Lady Caris would be so relieved at your arrival.”
“I don’t understand,” Glenna said warily.
They began their skipping circuit again. “My wife has suffered much loss during the course of our marriage. Our daughter—our only child—was killed on the eve of her wedding. Lady Caris never recovered from the blow, but her broken heart was pieced into use when we took in our orphaned niece to raise as our own. The girl disappeared in the night some years ago. We’ve never stopped searching for her.”
“Disappeared? She ran away or was abducted, you mean?” Glenna couldn’t help asking.
Lord Hargrave wore a pained expression. “God knows.” He paused while they circled each other, and Glenna thought she saw him catch his lower lip between his teeth, as if bracing himself against an onslaught of emotion. They met again.
