Page 140 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“She told me.”

“She told you—her six year old daughter--that your father no longer…” His eyes misted as if he were remembering long ago. “I had no idea the illness had corrupted her mind so thoroughly.” His focused cleared. “Lydia, it wasn’t true. Yes, I loved Moira. Your mother knew as well as I that ours was an arranged marriage…we agreed. I never lied to her. But to say that I couldn’t… it was not true. She became ill and we—I—simply couldn’t force her to—”

“You deserted her,” Lydia’s voice trembled. “She told me how much she loved you and how you were always with your mistress. I remember—”

“You remember a child’s desperation,” the marquess interrupted. “Your mother was ill, she wasn’t herself. Surely you can see that. Oh, had I but known then what she had said. Perhaps I could have made you understand the truth and this bitterness wouldn’t have devoured you.”

“Nothing you say can change what you did,” Lydia spat.

Eve stood stunned. Here sat a reflection of her future self if she wasn’t careful. “I am sorry for you,” she said.

“Sorry for me?” Lydia gritted out. “I am not the one you need be sorry for. Pity yourself, for you have married a man who will abandon you just as his father did my mother.”

“He has not abandoned Lady Rushton,” Eve said.

Lydia’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Sassenach. Perhaps that is what it has been all along. Moira was but your mistress and my mother meant nothing to you. Both were Scottish women.”

Eve gasped, and saw the marquess take a step toward his daughter, but it was Connor who seized her arm and gave her a hard yank.

“This is beyond the pale even for you.” His head snapped up and he said to the marquess, “We will be leaving. Never fear, Justin, I will deal with her.”

Everyone stood aside and watched as he hurried her out of the alcove.

“She’s damned angry that she can’t get her hands on Ravenhall,” Ash said.

Eve tore her gaze from Lydia, who nearly tripped while attempting to keep up with her husband’s long strides, and looked at Ash. “Surely, she knew that Lord Rushton would marry?”

“Val didn’t return from war,” Ash said. “It was just as possible Erroll wouldn’t return either. Since his return, she has probably been stewing about how she was robbed of her revenge.”

“Revenge?” Eve repeated.

Lord Rushton squeezed her fingers and Eve realized her hand still rested on his arm.

“It seems you were right, sir.” Lord Rushton looked at his father.

The marquess still stared at the door through which the two had disappeared. He glanced at the group. “I have business to attend to.”

Eve’s heart twisted at the pain she heard in his voice.

Lord Rushton tensed beneath her fingers and she sensed he wanted to say something, but his father strode from the alcove.

The earl released a long breath. “I believe I need to rest. Come along, my dear. Ash, we will see you later?”

“I wouldn’t miss the rest of your wedding party for the crown jewels.”

The earl nodded and before Eve could think of a protest, he led her from the room. Her heart sank as they headed for their suite.