Page 59 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

There was a protracted silence. The Ferguson family was a notorious criminal organization. Ewan had never had any run-ins with them, as he had always kept to the straight and narrowlife, but he had heard of other, more minor lairds getting swept up in their dealings.

He had thought that Christopher was smarter than that.

And he had thought wrong.

“What do you know?” he growled.

Alaric sat back. “Not much,” he admitted. “I wish I knew more. I have been doing some digging, but it is hard to get as many details as I would like. People are closed-lipped about this, as you can imagine. But my friends who used to drink with Christopher tell me that the Fergusons have been coming round Inverness and asking about Christopher, inquiring as to his whereabouts. And they told me they seem angry. Which can mean only one thing: He owes them money.”

Ewan sat back in his chair, dread filling him up. He had not thought things were this bad. At the same time, he felt a fleeting flicker of relief that Cassandra had not married his brother.

At least she will not be tied up in this mess.

“Are you going to say something to Christopher?” Alaric asked. “Are you going to ask him who exactly he owes this money to?”

“I am not sure yet,” Ewan said. “I need to think.”

“Well, do not wait too long,” Alaric cautioned. “The Fergusons will want their money. The only question is, once they know that the duke has opened the faucet, will they ever stop?”

“I do not see what choice I have,” Ewan muttered. “If I do not pay…” He cleared his throat. “I have already lost my brother once. I will not do so again.”

***

At dinner that night, the brother who joined them seemed more like the old Christopher. He was in top form, laughing, smiling with abandon, and clapping Ewan on the back whenever possible. He was not simply attentive to Cassandra, for once, but engaged everyone, including Lillian and Alaric, in conversation.

This was the man he had missed. The one that he hoped to restore by paying off his debts. Christopher had fallen into hard times, and it had made him into a different person, one that was selfish and greedy. But it was not too late for him. Ewan could fix things. He could bring his brother back.

“Why do we not have a toast?” Christopher asked, looking up at Ewan and grinning. “To my brother, the most generous and caring elder brother a man could ever ask for.”

He stood and took the decanter of wine from the footman, who was already stepping forward to refill Ewan’s glass.

“Allow me,” he said gallantly. Coming over to Ewan’s side, Christopher began to pour the wine into Ewan’s goblet. Their eyes met, and Christopher gave him a smaller, more intimate smile.

“I cannot imagine my life without you, brother,” he murmured. “You have saved me, again and again. I am forever in your debt.”

“It is no debt,” Ewan said. “We are brothers.”

“You are a lucky man, you know,” Christopher said. “You have everything one could ever hope for. A beautiful home, great friends, and best of all, a loving wife.”

Christopher handed him his full glass, then turned back to the assembled room and raised his own.

“To the Duke of Calder! The man who has it all!”

Everyone in the room raised their glasses. Ewan felt, suddenly, a powerful urge to look at Cassandra. She was all the way down at the other end of the table, but when their eyes met, something electric moved through him.

She was watching him with something like apprehension, the small line between her eyes deep and her jaw tight. He didn’t know what worried her, but as he gazed at her, he tried to indicate, through his expression, that everything was well.

Christopher was right. He was lucky. He had it all. And he had been pushing away the best part of that.

But as he stared back at Cassandra, the old fear lifted its head like a hydra. Because the better Christopher became, the kinder and more charming, the more attentive and affable, the more it reminded Ewan of the cold hard truth: No woman could ever prefer him over his brother.

And so he drank.

Chapter 22

Ewan had not been himself of late. Cassandra had noticed it in the last few days, a particular distractedness about him that she had never seen before. He had been distant ever since the return of his brother, but this was even worse.

He seemed to be neglecting his duties.