“Go away, Dougray. I want to be alone.”

He reached her side but could not bear to touch her. “Iain is a nice man. Will becoming his wife be so terrible?”

She looked up, her eyes awash with pain. “He’s not you.”

He crouched down in front of her. “I cannot marry you. I just can’t.”

She studied his face and he did not hide the tear that slipped from his eye.

“This past year I really thought you had finally gotten over Connie’s death. I thought you’d opened your heart to me. We shared our hopes for the future. You let me fall in love with Connor as if he were my own wee boy. Just tell me why?”

He had no words. Instead he leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips.

“Do you hate your father so much that you’d use me as a pawn to hurt him. Is it because he is desirous of our match that you purposely opposed it?” Her sorrow was now replaced with anger. “I hate you Dougray Firth. I hate you for making me fall in love with you. For giving me a dream and then taking it away. Just go away before you break my heart completely.” Her head lowered to her knees and she began sobbing.

He couldn’t stand it. He reached down and scooped her into his arms and took her place on the bench, placing her in his lap. She did not stop crying. She merely buried her face against his chest and sobbed.

He sat there gently rocking her and wished things could be different. He wished he didn’t love her so much. But it was because he loved her he would let her go. Seeing her married to another would be his living hell but at least she would be alive and he would be able to see her occasionally.

He didn’t know how long they sat there. Eventually her sobbing stopped and she fell asleep in his arms.

He pressed a kiss to her head and imprinted the feel of her into his memory and heart.

Finally as dawn began to break he carried her back toward the house. He was halfway through the rose garden when Angus appeared.

“Give her to me.”

He didn’t want to but he knew Angus was angry and hurt. He gently passed Flora to her brother. She didn’t even stir.

Angus shook his head. “I don’t know why you are doing this. If I believed like most that it is to get back at your father I would beat you until you could not walk for days. But I know it is something else. I hope one day you will have the decency to tell me why.”

Angus turned his back to enter the house. He stopped with his foot on the first step. “I think it best you leave immediately after the wedding breakfast. And I need some time to get over this.”

He knew his friendship with Angus would never be the same.

He’d lost two friends this night.




CHAPTER 1




Edinburgh, August 1822 - eight years later

“WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP GIGGLING, and come and help me with the table setting,” Lady Flora wished Sarah, the young serving girl standing in the corridor was a little less attractive. Sarah turned many a man’s head, too beautiful for her own good. Flora would remind Lady Mary to ensure the youngest and prettiest girls were locked well away from the powerful men who were arriving tomorrow.

The King being one of them.

Palace of Holyrood House was in the middle of a spring clean. For the first time in almost two centuries the King would be stepping onto Scottish soil and Lady Flora was lucky enough to have been invited to witness and part-take of the occasion. She’d been asked to oversee the dinning room decorations and table settings for the dinner that was to occur here in two nights time.

Sarah scurried forward, approaching the large dining table dominating the room. “I’m sorry, my lady. I have ironed the other tablecloths as requested but I need one of the men to carry them for me. They’re really heavy.”

“I can fetch them for you, pretty Sarah.” The young male voice from the corridor revealed all. Flora wanted to roll her eyes. No wonder Sarah had been in the corridor giggling. Young Conner Firth leaned in the doorway, his eyes flirting with Sarah, and she was mesmerized by the handsome lad; as most of the serving girls, and even some of the palace ladies were.

Dougray had been only eighteen when Connor was born. It seemed so long ago now. At fourteen years of age, and yet almost six feet tall already, Connor, with his father’s black hair and piercing blue eyes, was beginning to fulfill her expectations of being a heart breaker. Connor took after his father in more than just looks it would seem. He loved the bonny lasses.

“Connor Firth. I’m sure your father has more important tasks for you than pestering the serving girls,” Flora scolded.

“Oh, Lady Flora, you know you are still my favorite,” and he laughed in his still to fully deepen voice.

She swung round with hands on her hips. “I remember a time when I put you over my knee. You’re not too old for me to do that again.”

This time he uncrossed his arms and winked at her. “I might just enjoy that.”

God help her, but she could feel her face flush with color. Oh, to be a young girl again. Connor certainly made her feel old, and yet she had only just turned eight and twenty.

A respectable age for a widow, but too young to stay a widow for the rest of your life.

“If your father catches you wasting time here there will be hell to pay.”

At her words his smile dimmed slightly.

She turned to Sarah who was still standing there playing with her hair. “Go and get two of the laundry lads to help you.”

Sarah sighed as she slipped past Connor who’d stepped further into the room to let the young girl past. Flora was pretty sure she saw Connor’s fingers pinch her bottom as Sarah slipped out of the room.

“You should not be encouraging them, Connor. You of all people know the consequences for these young girls when they have been trifled with.” Connor’s mother had been a serving girl just like Sarah.

He could not look her in the eye. “Tis’ only a bit of fun.”

“You are the Duke of Monreith’s son, that alone is enough to turn a girl’s head, let alone the fact you have your father’s good looks.”

“You forgot to say illegitimate son.” Connor’s eyes flashed with fire.

Flora walked to stand in front of him. “Your father loves you. He recognized you. He gave you his name. As far as most are concerned you are a duke’s son. So start acting like one.”

“He recognized me for my mother. He loved her.”

“He loves you too, from the moment he held you.” She cupped his cheek noticing the slight stubble that was beginning to show on his face now. “Aye, he did love your mother very much. That is why you are so precious to him.” And why Dougray Firth, the Duke of Monreith, had never married. He still held a torch for Connie, Connor’s mother who had died in childbirth.

“Did you know he has decided to marry?” His eyes narrowed. “Because he wasn’t married to my mother, I cannot be his heir. After all these years, suddenly he wants an heir. It would appear I am no longer enough.”

So this was the reason Connor was acting up and trying to be the man he’d yet to become.

She drew him into a hug. “It does not mean he loves you any less. You know it’s the duty of any peer to ensure the continuation of the title. Your father being one of only a few Scottish dukes has even more pressure to ensure his lineage continues. And with the King’s visit…”

Connor pushed out of her embrace. “It has always just been father and I.”

“Oh, Connor it still will be. You’re almost a man. If he marries and has a son, it will be years before your father can hunt, fish, and more with him. You’ll still have him to yourself and by the time a younger brother is grown, you’ll likely be married with your own family.”

“But she will be my stepmother. Bruce got a stepmother and she was awful to him. What if she doesn’t like me and she convinces father to send me away?”

“He’d never do that, and he’d never marry a woman who could not love you. You are too important to him.”

Connor’s eyes filled with hope then she watched the hope drain away. He scuffed his boots along the Persian rug. Suddenly a grin replaced his scowl. “You could marry him. I like you. You’d never come between father and I.”

A two-pronged pain almost ripped her apart. She’d been in love with Dougray for years, long before her family married her off to Viscount Iain Grafton. But Dougray’s heart closed after Connie’s death. Dougray was not there at the end of Connie’s life and he never really recovered from the role the late Duke of Monreith played in the sorry affair.

Over the years Flora came to recognize that Dougray had not loved her enough. He had stood aside and watched as she married another.

Besides, he would not want her now. She’d been married for over five years before her husband died, and the union never produced a child. She’d be a bad wager for a man needing an heir.

Dougray must know that because she had been a widow for three years and he’d never come courting her. They were friends, but not the same as it had been before she wed. Flora almost thought he avoided her as much as possible.

She wanted children more than anything. That was the main reason she would risk marriage again, but not to someone who would be devastated if she never bore them a child. She’d pick a widower who already had children.

“You like my father, surely? You are good friends. Most women do find him handsome. Or is it me you would not want as a son.”

She sighed. “I’d be honored to be your stepmother but it’s not possible.”

His head tipped to the side. “You’re not that old, and you are very beautiful. I heard my father’s men say so.”

“I don’t think I could marry a man who still loved a ghost.”

Connor nodded. “I think he’s ready to move on. I heard him tell Mary.”