Page 61 of Brigand

Ewan slumped in his chair and steepled his fingers,brooding. The prospect that Violet languished over her ordeal, over theirencounters at the Cloud, tore at his heart. He rather hoped she would rememberhim fondly, if she thought of him at all. “Do you think she’s ill?”

Moncrieff barked a laugh. “Ill? Does that sound like anillness you’ve ever heard of?” His gaze sharpened until Ewan felt like a bugpinned to a wall. “I think she’s pining.”

“Pining?”

“Is there any reason she would be pining?”

Hell. Ewan tried desperately not to squirm. “Not that I… Idon’t… She… We…” Hell.

Edward shot him a simmering glance. “I thought as much.” Hetossed back his drink and stood. “Do I need to ask for satisfaction?”

Ewan blanched. He leapt to his feet as well.“S-satisfaction? Are you challenging me to a duel?” Why his voice squeaked onthe word, he had no clue.

“Do I need to?”

“Might I remind you, duels are illegal in England.”

“When has something as inconsequential as the law everstopped you?”

Ewan’s mouth opened but an appropriate retort escaped him.So he snapped it shut.

“Don’t get me wrong, McCloud. Of all the men in the world Iwould choose for Violet, you are far from my first choice. But if she hastender feelings for you… If what I suspect happened between the two of you inScotland did happen, you will offer for her.”

Every fiber of Ewan’s being seized. His mind went blank. Washe being ordered by a peer of the realm to marry the only woman on earth hewanted to hold in his arms? He knew it was an impossibility—hell, she hatedhim, after all, and after all he was a foul lowlife—but he couldn’t still thelittle thrill that scoured through his veins at the thought.

His voice was ragged when he responded, “She won’t have me.”

Edward stilled. “You don’t deny it then?”

“I cannot. I also cannot deny I am in love with her.”

Ah. That took Moncrieff aback. “You-you’re in love withher?” This he sputtered on a laugh.

“Utterly.” He scrubbed his face. “And she despises me.”

“I suspect she does not despise you.”

Ewan leveled him with a frown. “I am hardly refined. Shedeserves a gentleman at the very least.”

“We can polish your edges.”

Ewan snorted. “I have very rough edges.”

“Have you met Aunt Hortense? She turned me from a degeneraterake into a devoted husband. Surely she can turn a Scottish brigand into awell-trained house pup.”

Ewan wasn’t sure he cared for such a fate. But hell, ifEdward was offering to help him win Violet, he would do whatever it took. “Allright. But it may take time to…woo her.”

Edward seemed less than pleased. “I will expect an offer bythe end of the season. But know this, McCloud. If you so much as bruise thatgirl’s heart—I will kill you.”

And Ewan didn’t doubt him for an instant. He was hardly thatbig a fool.

But it wasn’t trepidation dancing in his soul. It was hope.

Blissful, glorious, glittering hope.

It wasn’t even shattered when Edward added as anafterthought, “Oh, and don’t tell Ned you despoiled his sister. If he findsout, he will shoot you.”

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