Page 46 of Scandal with a Sinful Scot

They rode in silence for several moments, and he and Abbie exchanged apprehensive glances once again. They couldn’t marry if Megan was adamantly opposed. Well, they could, but it would start off their nuptials on a tense footing.

“Would we live at Wollstonecraft Hall?” Megan asked.

“Yes. It is certainly large enough for us to have part of an entire wing to ourselves. We would have to work out about your schooling, of course…”

“I would be living with my grandfather, uncle, and cousins.” Megan’s eyes sparkled. “Jonas will be nearby.” Her smile slipped. “Which would make you my…” Her voice trailed away. He understood what she meant.

“As I said before, I would never try to replace your beloved papa. Not in any way. You may continue to call me Garrett, and refer to me any way you wish. Father, stepfather, or friend.” He smiled warmly at his daughter as he pulled up on the reins to halt Patriot. “I would like, above all things, for us to be friends. But I will not force it.”

Abbie and Megan stopped alongside Garrett. “Megan, we will discuss it further when we return to Standon next week, but are you willing to consider a future marriage between myself and Garrett?”

“Mama, I wish for you to be happy, and I believe—”

The sound of a rifle shot cracked and a bullet whizzed over Megan and Abbie’s heads. Instinctively, Garrett moved in front of them to protect them. Another shot rang out, causing him to reel in his saddle. White-hot pain tore through his shoulder and blood seeped through his greatcoat. “Uun,” he grunted from the impact. Hell, I’ve been shot. He’d been about to call out for Megan and Abbie to follow him to the hall with all haste, as remaining stationary was not wise under the circumstances. But he never even had a chance to speak.

The reins slipped from his hands and he fell to the ground. All around him the landscape blurred and started to spin. Abbie and Megan screamed, rushing to his side. Go. Leave me. But Garrett could not speak the words. If anything happened to them he’d never forgive himself. Life would not be worth living. All grew dim. Damn it all, he was losing consciousness.

* * * *

“My lord, you should’ve allowed me to fire the shots,” Delaney stated in a bored tone.

“Well, I hardly see how it is my fault that he moved into my crosshairs. The cumbersome beast is so damned tall it is a wonder I did not take the top of his head off.” The Marquess of Sutherhorne shrugged indifferently. “I did not intend to injure or kill, but it appears that fate had other plans. So be it. Is he dead? I cannot see from this angle.”

“The women are panicked, as he’s on the ground.” Delaney continued to look through the opera glasses. “Ah, there is a slight movement of his hand. I see blood at his shoulder.”

“Not a fatal wound, then.” What an unexpected windfall. All Sutherhorne had wanted to do was give Garrett Wollstonecraft a fright. Delaney had discovered that the woman and the girl were visiting neighbors, and the Scottish swine had been spending time with them. Their names were Abigail and Megan Hughes, from Standon, Hertfordshire. What were they to Wollstonecraft? He must discover the connection.

Regardless, vengeance was required, and what better way than to let the horse breeder experience true fear? The way Sutherhorne had when Wollstonecraft had manhandled and threatened him three months past in Carrbury.

The plan took shape rather quickly, especially when Delaney reported that the red-haired girl bore a slight resemblance to the beast. Related? Wollstonecraft obviously cared for them, and firing a rifle over the ladies’ heads would strike terror in the man—and give Sutherhorne a balm for the slight he’d endured.

“My lord, I suggest we take our leave.”

Delaney’s gravely monotone voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Of course. The plan for our departure is in place?”

“Yes, my lord. Your carriage awaits, a mile through these woods.”

Sutherhorne handed the rifle to Delaney, who then slipped it in the saddle holster. “I will require you to take a quick sojourn to Standon and gather any information you can on the woman and the chit.”

“Of course, my lord. And what of the young heir?”

Sutherhorne narrowed his eyes. “The dissolute grandson, Aidan? Why, do you covet the man?”

Delaney’s expression turned stony and he did not reply. Recalling the events at the naughty party, Delaney had thrown himself into the carnal activity with a good deal of enthusiasm. He regarded his employee shrewdly. What did he know about this man? Next to nothing, though Sutherhorne did not care to delve into the man’s past. As long as he fulfilled a purpose and provided a service, Delaney could continue with his illegal boxing and other personal pursuits, illicit or not.

“I am about to spread the tale of Aidan Wollstonecraft’s decline throughout London. The salacious tidbit of gossip regarding selling himself for opium should destroy his family’s bloated and exaggerated good reputation quite thoroughly. I may even toss in his exotic sexual proclivities as an added bonus.”

“The talk in Sevenoaks is that the young heir has taken a sojourn to Italy for the winter months, to recover from a chest infection,” Delaney stated.

Sutherhorne laughed. Did the family truly believe they would get away with this fiction? There were at least two other peers in attendance at the wicked party who could corroborate. Then he sobered and cast a sidelong glance at Delaney. His employee was dangerous and unpredictable—he knew that much about him. Could he have developed an obsession with Aidan Wollstonecraft? Why else was he asking questions in Sevenoaks? “I do hope you were discreet in your inquires regarding the heir.” Delaney gave him a brisk nod. “The lie will not hold up once word starts to spread. Come. Let us depart before we are discovered.”

The two men rode silently through the thick cluster of oak and fir trees.

“Delaney, I want you to stay in the area. Not at the local inn, but elsewhere. Find out if the Scottish barbarian dies of his wound. Once you have an update, return to London with all haste. Then you will be free to carry out my other request.”

“Yes, my lord. Consider it done.”

Sutherhorne smiled and glanced at the blue, cloudless sky. A beautiful day. He breathed in the cool, crisp air, then exhaled.