Page 5 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Eve should have felt pain at the reminder that the man she eloped with allowed himself to be paid off not to marry her—along with anger that Grace was so unfeeling as to point it out. But Eve had long ago come to terms with the nature of the man she had made the mistake of falling in love with.

“It is because it happened to me that I can speak with certainty,” Eve said. “I would not wish the same fate for you.”

“News already reached Manchester that we are to wed,” Grace said. “That means his father must have commanded him to marry me. Just as I planned.”

Despite her cavalier tone, Eve detected what she felt certain was a hint of doubt. Grace, even with her exceptional beauty, had no better chance of marrying into the circle in which Lord Rushton moved than did Eve. Had Grace captured the eye of an earl, their parents would have been ecstatic. But a very rich earl next in line as a marquess wasn’t something to have dared hope for. Grace, however, had obviously harbored hopes that such a family would overlook her lower birth.

“Grace,” Eve said more gently, “even if the marquess allowed it, you failed to take into account Lord Rushton’s nature. He told me that if he is forced to marry you, he will abandon you in Scotland while he goes about his pleasures as he always has.”

“Rubbish.”

Eve shook her head. “Lord Rushton isn’t English. He will exile you to Scotland and no one could stop him. He isn’t the sort of man you are accustomed to.”

Grace laughed. “His mother is English, if you recall. I daresay, he is more English than Scottish. What do you know of men, anyway, Eve?”

“Enough to know this one will not give into your whims like other men.”

“Of course he will. I will make certain of it by giving him everything he wants.”

“Men want more than an heir from a wife.”

“For a time,” Grace agreed. “And he shall have it to his heart’s content.”

Eve gave a disgusted snort. “You’re a fool. He will take what he wants, then discard you as he has all the others—wife or not.”

“Girls,” their mother reprimanded, “you shouldn’t speak of such things. Your father will deal with the earl. Really, sneaking into a lady’s room in the middle of the night. What is this world coming to?”

Eve agreed, but couldn’t half blame him. She could only imagine her own desperation should she find herself trapped into marriage by a man she’d never met.

The door opened and their father entered with Lord Rushton behind. Eve noted that the earl favored his injured leg. His wrinkled coat and cravat bore testament to the hurried ride from the inn to Manchester. Guilt washed over her. The long ride couldn’t have helped his wound. She glimpsed the shadow of a bruise on her father’s jaw and the guilt vanished.

“Father,” Grace began.

“Not a word,” he cut her off.

“But—”

“I warn you, Grace, be silent.”

“My lord,” their mother said in a horrified voice as Grace’s eyes widened.

Eve, too, was surprised. She couldn’t recall the last time her father had censured Grace for anything.

He halted a few feet from the couch and clasped his hands behind his back. Lord Rushton stopped beside him. The drawn look in the earl’s dark eyes startled Eve.

“Your actions—both your actions—leave me in a quandary,” her father said.

Eve snapped her gaze onto him. “I suppose I should allow a man who breaks into my room to have his way with me?”

He gave her a thin-lipped scowl. “What you should do is not sleep with a pistol under your pillow. But you have no more need of a gun. Lord Rushton will obtain a special license and the wedding will take place three days hence.”

The earl’s startled gaze jerked onto her father—then his glare turned onto her.

She flashed a sweet smile. “You should have left well enough alone, my lord. Grace’s deception would have come to light. As it is, you sealed your fate.” If his father agreed, of which she had her doubts.

“Indeed, he has,” her father said. “As have you. Eve, you will marry Lord Rushton.”

Shock rolled across her.