Page 3 of The Highlander’s Unexpected Wife

“Did he tear your dress? Erin, true gentlemen do not treat a lady like that.” Even a foolish lady like Erin.

Erin grasped her hands. “I wish to tell you everything.”

“Not here.” Alison led her toward the stairs. Erin might not care for her reputation, but Alison understood too well the dangers of meddling servants.

Once safely inside her bedchamber, Alison closed and bolted the door. She faced Erin. “What have you done?”

Erin dropped into one of the chairs in front of the hearth. “He was wonderful. His hands were on my body.”

Alison came around the chair to face her cousin.

“His fingers were warm and strong.”

“He had his hands on you?”

Cameron Hunter had the morals of a tomcat. She could well imagine the handsome Highlander kissing a woman and, yes, touching her intimately. But she was shocked that he had torn Erin’s dress. The viscount hadn’t struck her as being that foolhardy.

Cameron Hunter’s scandalous reputation as a rake was well deserved, but to dally with an innocent like Erin? Well, almost innocent. Erin wasn’t exactly virtuous, but her reputation had never been publicly tarnished. Tonight, that may have changed.

Alison sank into the chair beside her cousin. “You are very fortunate—and very foolish.”

“You do not understand. Father believes he will make me a good husband. He will be so proud when I become Viscountess Weston.”

A smidgen of compassion softened Alison’s anger. For as long as Alison could remember, Erin had endeavored to win her father’s affection. His approval did not come easily. As for love, Alison wondered if he was truly capable.

“You would marry a man just to please your father?” she asked.

Erin gave a careless shrug. “It is done every day.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, it’s not just to please my father. Cameron Hunter will do a fine job of pleasing me.”

Alison threw her hands in the air. “Oh, heaven and saints above.”

“Please, Allison, do not call upon the saints for help. There will be nothing holy about my marriage to the viscount.”

No, Alison privately agreed. A man like Cameron Hunter was a master in the art of carnal seduction. “You do not know the man—certainly not well enough to love him,” she said.

“I am going to marry him.”

“Even with trickery? What if he takes all you offer but refuses to wed you?”

Erin waved a hand airily. “Men do not care how they are led down the aisle.”

Alison rolled her eyes and prayed for patience. Her cousin was a fool, and damn Cameron Hunter for taking what didn’t belong to him.

“Men do not marry their paramours. And they do not marry young chits who no longer have their virginity.”

“Men only wish for a wife to warm their bed and give them heirs,” Erin replied. “That will not be a hardship with Lord Weston. I know.”

Alison narrowed her eyes. “You had better not know or I will fetch your father this moment.”

Erin pouted. “Worry about your own marriage, Cousin. Do not concern yourself with mine.”

Alison grasped Erin’s hands. “I am worried about you. For a moment of pleasure now, you will sentence yourself to a life of unhappiness. I cannot imagine a marriage created in scandal and consummated in lies could ever bring joy. End this seduction now. Do not give in to him.” Although, the warning may already be too late.

Alison recognized stubborn determination in the tilt of Erin’s mouth and the narrowed intensity in her eyes. Obstinance was a family trait.

“I promise to be careful,” Erin said. “But you need not worry. I know what I’m doing.”

“Erin”—Alison touched her cousin’s hand—“surely, you would rather find a man you love and who loves you. You are very beautiful. You could have your pick of men.”