Page 111 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“What do I know of seventeen year old girls?”

“You were once a nineteen-year-old boy, which I believe is the boy’s age.”

“Mother, I do not think I—”

“No arguments,” she cut in. “Hilary adores you. With David gone she could use a little guidance from a brother.”

“Burns mentioned David was gone. How long?”

“Two years.”

“I’m surprised his father let him go. He is the only heir.”

“You know David. He was insistent.”

“Young fool,” Lord Rushton muttered. “He could easily have avoided the madness.”

“Young fools seldom avoid madness,” the marchioness remarked.

Lord Rushton’s expression cleared. “You wouldn’t by chance be referring to me?”

“You are, without a doubt, a young fool,” she said.

Her tone was light, but Eve was startled to detect a note of melancholy.

Lord Rushton straightened. “Mother, I—” He stared for a long instant, apparently forgetting that Eve was there, then broke off and leaned back against his chair. “Forgive me. I am worse than a fool.”

Eve suddenly understood the byplay was due to the lady’s sorrow in losing her youngest son. Eve grasped the marchioness’ hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I…” Eve released a sigh. “There is no consolation, is there?”

Lady Rushton looked at her, clearly surprised, but a gentle smile touched her lips. She returned Eve’s hand squeeze. “Nothing else is needed.”

Eve nodded, unable to speak through a lump in her throat. She became aware that Lord Rushton was watching her and removed her hand from Lady Rushton’s. Perhaps it was time for her to retire, after all.