"I ken you're worried over him. I am too. He reminds me of my brother, Jack, a bit."
Cyrus's mood brightened. He was glad to know his assumptions had been correct. "He does?"
"Aye. Headstrong. Adventurous. 'Tis why Jack wished to go into the Royal Scots Navy. To see the world and have new experiences."
The elder Dalacroy likely helped with the commission, but Cyrus wouldn't ask her about it now. 'Twould make her uncomfortable.
"Although my father wished Jack to be a merchant like he was, Jack always resisted. He considered it too tedious. I was the one fascinated by it."
Cyrus enjoyed the way her eyes lit up when she talked about being a merchant. "I've never known a woman who's interested in business. Did your father teach you?"
"Aye, although 'twas not his intent. He was trying to train Jack, who showed no interest. I watched him, paid attention and asked questions. At first, I learned it to help my brother. Da would explain the numbers or additions to me and then have me tutor Jack. A few years later, Da was astonished to find I knew almost as much as he did, while Jack was out with his friends engaged in pretend sword duals."
Imagining it, Cyrus smiled. He had never considered that he might find a clever, educated woman intriguing. Suddenly, he realized he might enjoy having stimulating conversations with Elspeth. She was no flighty lass, but a woman full grown.
"I hope he's enjoying his naval career," Cyrus said.
"Oh, aye. He is. He has written to me a few times."
"And what of your sister?"
"Emmaline married the son of a successful shipwright. Young Peter will one day inherit the trade."
"Sounds like an ideal match."
"Indeed."
Cyrus could not help but think of the possible match with Lady Lily. A dark annoying feeling bored into his stomach. He did not ken why the lovely lass gave him such a bad feeling. Well, mayhap 'twas because when he glanced aside at Elspeth, he had the opposite feeling—a light, uplifted feeling of hope. What would she think of Teasairg Castle in the rough and craggy Highlands? Would she find it barbaric and behind the times? Or would she love it as much as he did?
Why the devil did he care what she thought of it? She would likely never see it.
The events of last night blazoned through his mind yet again, encroaching on his thoughts as they had all morning. He'd never been one to act on a whim. He always followed plans he had previously thought out very carefully, considering all the possible outcomes. His inability to make a definite decision about what came next annoyed the hell out of him. He had always been clear-sighted and purposeful. And though he could not see his way out of this quandary as of yet, he needed to tell her of an important decision he'd made.
"I would like to discuss something with you after the meal," he murmured for her ears only.
She gave him a wary glance. "Very well. I'm finished."
They made their way into the study again.
"About last night," he began, once they were seated. "I just want to reassure you that if a bairn results, I'll take full responsibility. I'll provide anything you or the child might need."
Her face coloring, she stiffened and stared into the fireplace embers. "'Tis very generous of you, but I'll be fine. I've raised one child more or less on my own, with my servants' help. As long as I keep the businesses and my home, things will go well."
"Aye, I'm certain 'tis true, but I would never abandon one of my offspring or his or her mother. I lost control last night, and I'll always hold myself to blame."
"Blame?" She frowned. "You act as though I had no say in the matter."
"Nay. Of course you had a say. If you'd told menay,I would've left the room, no matter how much I wanted you."
I wanted you.Those words hung in the air for a few moments during the silence. He recalled exactly how badly his craving for her had been. Even now, a renewed need for her burgeoned, growing stronger with each moment that passed. Damnation! He did not ken how to fight it off. 'Twas a futile battle. Though he forced himself not to look at her, he smelled a delicate whiff of her appealing scent blended with the wood smoke from the fireplace. Arousal curled through him.
Muttering a curse, he arose and took up the fire poker. With near violence, he stabbed at the embers, then tossed in a chunk of wood.
"Please do not concern yourself with it." She shot from her chair. "'Tis doubtful I'm with child, anyway."
He turned, gauging her defensive expression. "Why would it be doubtful? You have one child. Clearly, you're not barren."
"And clearly you're angry with me. I don't wish to discuss it anymore." She strode toward the door.
