Page 47 of Scandalous Passions

“Mistress,” said Lachlan, frowning. “We deserve truth.”

Her guardian’s expression turned hunted, and Marjorie’s heart plummeted. Indeed, there was certainly more to the tale than a shared tutor.

Janet straightened her shoulders. Then she sighed. “Yes, you do. Aileen…her father’s lands marched alongside my father’s. We saw each other often. We did share a tutor, but…”

“But?” whispered Marjorie, glancing across at Lachlan. He looked as grim as she felt.

“Aileen was my lover. My first. And a woman I once loved.”

…

Devil take it, why did everything wonderful have to be swiftly followed by disaster?

Janet winced, an action becoming all too familiar. For a woman who prided herself on plain speaking, she tied herself in terrible knots when it came to her two lovers. And by the hurt on Marjorie’s face and Lachlan’s impassiveness, that mask he only wore when concealing a great deal of emotion, she had blundered badly. Again.

Marjorie had declared her love. And she’d been so overcome that she’d babbled like an infant and changed the subject. The worst possible subject. How foolish she’d been not to tell Marjorie and Lachlan the truth about Aileen after that supper. Naturally it had been prudent not to speak of it with blissfully unaware Hamish and Angus at the table, but she’d had ample opportunity to do so since then.

“I should have confessed,” said Janet into the heavy silence. “It was wrong of me not to tell the whole tale.”

“Why did you not tell us?” asked Marjorie, her beautiful face ashen.

“I’m not sure. I honestly did not know Aileen and Hamish lived near the manor, so it was a great shock to learn they were the supper guests. I have not seen either of them in many years. Since that summer, in fact. Aileen and I were discovered naked together, you see. My parents sent me to court as a gift to the king, and her parents arranged a hasty marriage.”

“Do you still”—Lachlan pursed his lips as though he’d tasted something bitter—“care for her?”

At least this question she could answer.

Being alone with Aileen, she’d not felt any desire to retreat into the past. Not even a kiss or embrace. She would always remember that summer…more so for what she had learned of herself: that she lusted for women as well as men. Also some regret that their affair had been halted by others rather than coming to its own end as it should, so each could have walked away knowing they had not found their forever love and to keep searching. It had been that way with James. Yes, she had loved Fergus dearly and would always miss him, but she now knew for certain that her heart had found two new people to settle on: Lachlan and Marjorie.

Janet took a deep breath. “Let me explain it thus—”

“Lady Janet!”

At the booming hail from Hamish Campbell, she wanted to hurl manure at his chest, which was quite unfair. Unlike his rodent brother, Hamish remained an amiable, decent man. “Master Campbell,” she said, then shifted her gaze. “Aileen.”

Angus glared at her when she did not greet him but remarkably remained silent.

Aileen held out a hand, her smile forced. “Will you walk with me, Janet?”

A chill of unease slithered down her spine at the odd request. They really didn’t have anything to discuss that required privacy. “Why?”

“Just over here for a bit,” Aileen coaxed. “Come along, now.”

Janet glanced back at her lovers. Marjorie shook her head, her eyes pleading and face even paler than before. Lachlan’s hand moved to his sword hilt, his gaze menacing as it rested on the Campbells, but he, too, said nothing. “I’d rather not. I’m here with Sir Lachlan and Lady Marjorie.”

“You must!” shrieked Aileen as she grabbed Janet’s arm and yanked her away from the group.

In the blink of an eye, hell unleashed.

Men appeared. So many men, wearing the royal livery and armed with swords. Lachlan pulled Marjorie behind him and unsheathed his own sword, looking ready to slay each and every one, but the men stood shoulder to shoulder and continued to advance, trapping the two against a wooden fence.

Horror engulfed Janet like a sodden cloak, dark and suffocating. “Aileen. What have you done?”

“I did it for us,” her former lover hissed. “A lady deserves so much better than the forced company of a traitor’s daughter and a bastard knight. They shame you. And have betrayed your trust. Did you know they were seen marrying in this town? Against the queen’s command? They are traitors! But do not worry; I shall protect you. Your very own Aileen, who loves you still. And you’ll forget them soon enough.”

Swallowing hard against the bile threatening to choke her, Janet shook her head. “No. No.”

But her words were swept away by the cool sea breeze. The townspeople had fled; the tradesmen and merchants cowered behind their stalls. No one would come to their aid. It would have to be her, and her alone.