Page 22 of Scandal with a Sinful Scot

Megan paused, as if forming her answer. Abbie could not be more proud that she was holding her own with an earl and a viscount. “The science at the core of the story. It makes sense, using an electrical current. It makes it believable and all the more shocking. I know it is thought of as a gothic horror, but I found it to be a tragedy. I felt sorry for the monster. He only wanted to be loved.”

“Well said.” Julian nodded.

“Yes, a good description of the book. Would you like a signed copy of your very own?” the earl asked.

Megan turned toward her on the sofa. “Could I, Mama?”

“Yes, you may.”

Megan looked at the earl. “Thank you very much, my lord.”

“Excellent. We will locate one tomorrow morning; I’m not sure what library it is in.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “You have more than one library?”

“We do,” Garrett replied. “I can give you and your mother a tour of the hall, including the libraries, after tomorrow’s breakfast.”

Megan glanced at Garrett, then looked away. “Thank you, sir.”

To give Garrett credit, he didn’t let the conversation end there. “Do you ride, Megan?”

Abbie could tell Megan was all nerves talking to her…father, more so than with the earl or the viscount. Her daughter nodded while shoving a piece of chocolate frosted cake into her mouth. She swallowed, then said, “My father owned a couple of horses. He bought me a mare for my twelfth birthday. I ride her when I can, when I am not away at school.”

At the words “my father” a pained expression flashed across Garrett’s face and regret— and perhaps guilt—stabbed Abbie’s heart. She had denied Garrett of being the one to gift her with a horse. Yes, but with good reason. Under the dire circumstances, Abbie made the only decision that she could. An unmarried young woman who found herself with child had few options.

Garrett cleared his throat. “We have the finest stables in Kent. In fact, I breed horses. There is a particular sweet mare who would like to make your acquaintance. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon?”

Megan looked to her, and Abbie nodded encouragingly. Make an effort, Megan. Please.

“Thank you, Mr. Wollstonecraft. I would like to ride.” Again, a cool response. It would have to do.

Polite conversation broke out, the earl questioning Megan about her home and school and Julian asking her about Standon and Hertfordshire in general. Through it all, Abbie felt Garrett’s intense gaze on her. She dared not meet it, for every emotion churning inside her would be clearly visible if she did.

“There is a portrait of your grandmother, Moira, in my study. I will show it to you tomorrow,” the earl said to Megan.

“Oh, may I see it now, my lord?” Megan said, her eyes alight.

The earl stood. “Of course. Come with me.”

The viscount stood as well. “I have a note to reply to. I’ll see you all in the morning.” He bowed and followed the earl and Megan out of the room.

They were alone. Abbie was flustered and shakily placed her empty cup and saucer on the table.

Garrett rose and sat next to her on the sofa. “Think of the years we have wasted.”

All the compassionate emotions she’d been feeling dissipated. “And that is my fault, I suppose?” she snapped.

He clasped her hand, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. Her insides tumbled at his touch. “I say again: You should have come to me.” She bristled, about to retort, when he said, “But would I have handled the situation in a mature manner? At eighteen I was impulsive, wild, not in control of my emotions. My father would have insisted on a marriage had you shown up at our door. I would have agreed. But would I have grown to resent you? Would I have even allowed myself to love you and Megan, or would the specter of the curse have destroyed it all?”

“Hasn’t it destroyed it all anyway? You keep yourself hidden away in the stables, avoiding life. Avoiding love. To what end? To die alone?” she cried.

“You sound like my blasted father,” Garrett barked. “It is my choice to be alone, just as it was yours to marry a stranger. I don’t regret my decision.”

Abbie pulled her hand from his, sick to her core. So much for placing bitter thoughts aside. Damn him and his stupid curse! “And I don’t regret my decision. Did I think of you while my husband made love to me? Not once. I had completely erased you from my mind.” Abbie did not like the spiteful turn this conversation was taking. Hurt obviously still lurked on both sides.

Garrett frowned. “You lie.”

She did, a little. At first she’d thought of Garrett, but time had dissolved him into mist and memory. “With all the many women that came after me, I will guess you did not think of me once. Why would you? I was merely the first in a long line of willing women succumbing to your charms.” How petulant of her, but she did not care.