Page 29 of Scandalous Passions

Aileen shook her head at her husband’s brother. “Starved of beauty? Jean and I are thrilled to learn we are gargoyles, Angus. But you are right. Beauty has arrived, and we should rejoice.”

As though a cord about her neck tugged at her, Janet met Aileen’s soft, yielding yet heated gaze. Saints alive, she played a dangerous game with her husband sitting next to her!

“Mistress Campbell,” said Lachlan abruptly. “You know Lady Janet?”

Oh no.

Hamish Campbell raised a bushy red eyebrow at his wife. “You did not say so, sweetheart.”

“Ah…from a very long time ago,” said Aileen, her smile strained. “One summer we—”

“Shared a French tutor,” said Lady Janet crisply before her former lover wilted under questioning and hurt those at the table. Only both sets of parents knew the real reason for Aileen’s swift marriage to Hamish and Janet being gifted to the king. “The worst in history. Half of every lesson, he grumbled about all Scotland’s faults compared to France. Too cold! Too rainy! And the food, mon dieu!”

Aileen laughed, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “I always wondered why he did not leave if it was all so terrible.”

“Maybe debts in France,” said Niall.

“A cellar full of dismembered limbs,” said Angus, his eyes glinting.

Hamish glared at his brother. “There are ladies present.”

“No ordinary ladies, brother! Most interesting ones. Especially Lady Janet, here. Revered the length and breadth of the country as—”

“Proudly the worst sinner in Scotland,” said Lady Janet archly, not at all inclined to hear false flattery. “It shall be a sad day when I am forced to relinquish the title. I do so enjoy turning the menfolk’s hair white.”

Lachlan lifted his wine goblet. “Long may you reign.”

She winked at him and raised her own. “To mischief and mayhem.”

The others at the table added their salute. “To mischief and mayhem!”

Niall then frowned. “But not too much. Those south of the border are ever ready to invade. Sir Lachlan, you have fought in many battles. Would you say the threat remains?”

Janet hesitated, torn at the turn in conversation. While she was greatly relieved to no longer have all gazes on her and knew without looking that her former lover felt the same, Lachlan hated to speak in public. He’d always been the one who lurked in the shadows, the man of deeds rather than words. The only person he’d felt comfortable talking with for any length of time was the king.

Indeed, Lachlan appeared to be wishing himself miles away.

“Aye,” he said eventually. “Always will.”

“But we have an English-born queen now,” said Angus. “Surely you are overcautious.”

Janet snorted. “Time will tell where Margaret’s true loyalties lie. Her Tudor blood flows strong.”

“When there is a Scots prince in the cradle, we’ll all feel better,” said Jean. “’Tis a woman’s most sacred duty, after all. None more so than a queen.”

“Indeed,” Janet replied, gritting her teeth. Now it was she who wished to flee into the night. Each day she thought she’d finally accepted her barrenness. Then a woman would comment on pregnancy or childbirth, and it would sting like a thousand little cuts.

“More wine, lady?” said Lachlan, an understanding in his gaze that made her heart clench.

“I believe I will,” she replied softly.

“Before you do, Lady Janet,” burst out Aileen. “I am feeling a little unwell. Do you have some peppermint tonic, by chance?”

She hesitated, torn. They did need to talk. And yet somehow leaving the table with Aileen, in a sense choosing her over Lachlan and Marjorie, felt like a betrayal after everything that had happened on the journey from Stirling Castle and since they’d arrived.

Do I still desire Aileen?

Janet studied her former lover. She was indeed an attractive woman. But it had been so long, and she’d had so many lovers since. Besides. She wasn’t Marjorie, with luscious, plump curves, bright-blue eyes, and a smile like sunshine. Or brawny, gruff, deliciously obedient Lachlan. Maybe now it was time to lay the past to rest forever.