AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"My father paid little enough attention to his bastard at first, though he always sent an allowance. More than most men would do, I suppose. He had a change of heart after John was born. A fit of conscience. So when I was nine, my life changed drastically. I was suddenly besieged by tutors, then he offered to send me to school. I was horrified at the thought, scared really, but my mother insisted, so off I went to Edinburgh."
"Against your will?"
"Oh, aye. They didn't drag me away in chains, of course, but I offered some choice words for both my parents. And at school, I spoke only Gaelic for the first few weeks and suffered for it. Thank God my father didn't insist on an English school. I would have run off to be a sailor before moving to England."
Alex winced a little at that, but Collin didn't notice. He was smiling at some memory.
"My mother is a fine woman."
"What is she like?"
"She is kind and witty. Bold and generous to a fault. I always wondered whether it was her boldness or her generosity that led her to be my father's mistress. A little of both, I suppose."
Alex laughed with him, glad to know he felt so warmly toward his mother. She imagined that some men would hold a woman accountable for their low beginnings, but Collin spoke of her with love.
"She is a weaver, a skilled one. She was not a chambermaid caught by a visiting noble or some such thing. She always made clear that my father was a good man who'd left her with fond memories."
"That's wonderful."
He threw her a surprised glance. "Thank you."
"And your father? He would visit?"
"He came to meet me when I was ten. He visited every year afterward and brought John sometimes. He said we were brothers and were to treat each other as such."
Alex tried to blink back the tears that suddenly wet her eyes. "He sounds like a lovely man."
"Really, Alex," Collin snorted and handed her a handkerchief. "It's not so romantic as all that. The man drank too much and he was a terrible horseman. And he would roar curses at me if I spoke like a Scotsman in front of him. Between him and that school it's a wonder I didn't lose my burr entirely."
She nodded, but couldn't keep from sniffling one last time.
"And when he handed me the deed to Westmore, when he told me he'd purchased this dead title and it was mine . . .Oh, I wanted to knock him down. I wanted to curse him and run away and never set eyes on him again."
"Why?"
He shrugged his broad shoulders and looked back to the window, knee sliding away from hers. "I did not want to become the thing I'd always resented. But I knew West-more. I'd grown up not an hour from it, and I knew its empty stables and the lush pasture and, God, I wanted to breed horses more than anything."
"It's no more than your birthright, Collin."
"No, Alex, it is not. Bastards have a right to nothing. You know that."
"But you are his son. And he must have loved you, must have respected you to have done this."
"I suppose he did, in his way. Regardless, I took the deed and I took the title. I vowed not to use it, but I realized it was good business, after all, and so I do."
"That's nothing to be ashamed of. Many men purchase titles for less no
ble reasons than that."
His eyes hardened and struck out at her. "I am not ashamed."
"No," she answered, startled by his sudden anger. "I didn't mean—"
"My blood may not be as exalted as yours, but—" "Stop it."
"What?" The hardness left his face, but his mouth stayed tight and flat.
"You cannot throw my family in my face at every turn. I cannot help where I come from anymore than you."
