The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (27 page)

Weary from
the long coach ride, Colin, Scarlett and Tess dined in the inn’s small dining
room along with the coachmen and outriders, and then promptly retired for the
evening.  The food had been surprisingly good, and Scarlett and Tess were
pleased to find that their room was clean and adequately appointed.  The
inn had only a handful of guests at present, and Colin had been given the room
directly across from their own, while the rest of the men in their party were
roomed further down the hall.  After locking their door, they quickly
prepared for bed, and despite the unfamiliar surroundings were both asleep in a
matter of minutes.

When they
arrived at their small Scottish estate the following afternoon, Scarlett was
delighted by what she saw.  Though not grandiose by any means, the house
was lovely and clearly well-kept, as Colin had discovered when he had gone
ahead earlier that morning to check on its condition before returning to the
inn.  Although he had written ahead, informing Mr. & Mrs. Harris, the
caretakers he’d hired years ago, of their immanent arrival, he had wanted to
make certain everything was in order before Scarlett took up residence. 
He had been pleased to find the house in excellent condition, inside and out
and though much of the furniture had still been draped in dust covers, the
rooms had smelled fresh and clean he’d told her, and she was now anxious to see
the interior for herself. 

Stepping
through the front door, Scarlett’s gaze swept the foyer and surrounding rooms.
 Colin was right, it was obvious that the Harris’ took pride in their
position as caretakers and were doing an admirable job of maintaining the property. 

“Welcome, My
Lady.  I am Mr. Harris and this is my wife, Mrs. Harris,” said the older
gentlemen who stood at attention near the foot of the staircase, motioning to a
middle-aged woman with a kind face and a head of salt and pepper curls that
bobbed up and down as she nodded toward Scarlett.

“Thank you,
Mr. Harris, Mrs. Harris.  It’s lovely to meet you both.”  She turned
and motioned to Tess, who followed behind.
 
“Please allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Tess O’Rilley.”

Once the
introductions had been made, Mrs. Harris offered to show Scarlett and Tess to
their rooms so that they could refresh themselves from their journey. 

“That would
be lovely, Mrs. Harris, thank you.”

They left
Colin in the foyer with Mr. Harris to discuss the hiring of additional servants
for the remainder of Scarlett’s stay.

As to the
reason for her stay in Scotland, Colin had told the couple earlier that morning
that Scarlett had been recently married and was presently expecting her first
child, and that he had given the newlyweds the estate as a wedding gift.
 He had also informed them that Scarlett’s husband, a Mr. Ian McKinnon,
was currently traveling abroad and therefore he or one of his brother’s would
be staying with Scarlett until his return, not wishing to leave her without
family due to her delicate condition. 

Of course,
unbeknownst to the Harris’, in a few weeks’ time Scarlett would be receiving
word that her
husband
had perished at sea during his return
voyage.  She would immediately go into mourning and would remain in
Scotland until the birth of her child.  They could only hope that the
scenario was plausible enough to be believed and hope for the best. 
Within the week, Colin would have the falsified documents, and Scarlett
McPhearson would legally become Mrs. Scarlett McKinnon.  It would cost a
small fortune in bribes, but if it worked, the price, as well as the deception
would be worth every penny.

The
following month, the news of Scarlett
McPhearson’s
elopement reached London and quickly spread throughout the ranks of the
ton
, the stunning revelation meeting
with a combination of incredulity and disbelief.  The Scarlett Angel, the incomparable
of the Season, if not the entire century, the woman who could have snared
virtually any man in England had eloped with an untitled Scotsman.
 
The scandalous development was the talk of
the town.

Sitting in a
high-backed leather armchair in the gathering room at White’s, Alec Weston
appeared to be studying the financial section of the paper he held before
him.  Unfortunately though, the conversation of the three gentlemen seated
a few feet away was affecting his ability to concentrate.  As it had been
for the past several days, the topic of conversation was Scarlett McPhearson’s
shocking elopement and the
ton’s
surprising reaction to the news.  He listened with half an ear as the men
debated the latest developments.

“The Duchess
of Devonshire called it a love story for the ages.  I overheard her
myself.”

“Kenston
must be vastly relieved.”

 “Of
course he is.  A scandal like that could tarnish even the best of family
names.”

“Lucky
bastard.”

‘Who,
Kenston or the Scot?”

There was a
moment’s pause.  “Both,” all three then said simultaneously, laughing
aloud.

Tossing the
paper onto the small side table, Alec gave up the pretext of reading. 
They were right of course, Colin was indeed fortunate, as Scarlett’s new
husband surely was as well.  For Colin, he was vastly relieved, for what
could have been the scandal of the decade, had surprisingly taken an entirely
different turn.  The beautiful Scarlett Angel, the woman who could have
had it all had sacrificed everything for love, and the women who might have
cast assignations against her, shredded her reputation to bits with their
malicious gossip and laughed behind their fans at her foolishness and
inevitable fall from grace, instead, turned her into a heroine.  They
lauded her for the courage, daring and self-sacrifice that it took for her to
follow her heart, and extoled her as a true romantic icon.  And of course,
the fact that she was no longer vying for the attention of England’s most
eligible bachelors was an added boon for the remaining crop of debutantes. 
In turn, the men simply mourned the loss of the opportunity to win the hand of
the Scarlett Angel for themselves.  It was an extraordinary and previously
inconceivable turn of events.

No one could
have been more astonished than Alec, not by society’s benevolence, though it
was
a rare occurrence, but by the situation itself, and by how effectively Scarlett
had proven him correct.  Plagued by lingering doubts after he’d ended
their affair, he now knew that he had been absolutely right to do so. 
Christ, just a few months past she had said that she loved him, and now, now
she was married, married to a man she had apparently fallen so madly in love
with that she’d done the unthinkable, risking not only her reputation but the
support of her family, and eloped to Gretna Green.  That her affection
would eventually be directed elsewhere, he had anticipated, what he hadn’t
expected was the speed at which it had occurred.

He supposed
he shouldn’t have been surprised.  He had always known that love was a
fickle emotion, a mere novelty that lost its allure with time.  He knew
now, with absolute certainty, that he had done the right thing by ending
it.  If he’d lost his heart, if he and Scarlett’s relationship had
continued, if they had made the foolish decision to wed, it would have been so
much worse when reality eventually disabused them of their romantic, idealistic
notions; when they realized that happy endings only occurred in storybooks, at
least in their world.

For
Scarlett’s sake, he hoped that the man she had married would provide her with
the lasting love she obviously believed in and so eagerly sought.  Perhaps
living their lives outside of the jaded and oft times immoral sphere of the
ton’s
influence might actually give them
a chance at lasting happiness.  It was possible he supposed.
 
It’s what he wanted for her, what she
deserved.  He sighed, resting his head against the back of the
chair.  Why then, did he feel such an overwhelming sense of regret? 
He wanted Scarlett to be happy, didn’t he?

“Weston,”
called out Viscount Pickering, one of the three lords seated to his right,
interrupting his thoughts.  “Brundell here thinks Kitty Purnell is the
Season’s best catch, now that the Scarlett Angel is no longer available. 
Blakely and I,” he said, motioning toward the rotund gentleman seated next to
him, “are leaning toward Elizabeth Marchmont.  What are your thoughts?”

Turning, he
looked over at the men, his expression derisive.  “Pickering, you of all
people, should know that I do not concern myself with the Season’s latest crop
of debutantes.”  He and Pickering were old chums, and like himself,
Pickering had a decided aversion to settling down before he was good and ready.

“Always knew
you were a smart man,” Pickering laughed.  “Brundell here isn’t quite as
intelligent though,” he said, poking fun at the young lord sitting across from
him.  “His family has been pressuring him to take a wife and he is
thinking of paying court to Lady Catherine,” or Kitty, as she was more commonly
known.

Alec could
well understand the pressure Brundell was facing.  His own mother would be
making a mad dash to the engravers to begin the selection of invitations if he
showed even the slightest interest in marriage.  “Let him be Pickering,”
Alec admonished with a sardonic grin, “Our time will come soon enough, and then
I wager, neither one of us will be laughing.”

“So true,”
Pickering acknowledged with a dramatic sigh.  “But until then, I intend to
enjoy every moment of my blessed freedom,” he stated emphatically.

“Here here,”
Alec and Lord Blakely concurred, while poor Brundell simply looked on in
disgruntled silence.

The hours
dragged on for what seemed like an eternity as Scarlett struggled to give birth
to the child she’d carried for the past nine months.  Clenching her teeth,
she tried to stifle her screams as the agonizing pain once again sliced through
her like the cut of a knife.  It was nearly unbearable, but with sheer
strength of will, she fought through it. When the worst had passed, she dropped
her head back onto the pillow, her entire body limp and exhausted.

Tess was
immediately at her side and placed a freshly dampened cloth upon her heated
forehead.  The baby was transverse Sarah the midwife had informed her
earlier, lying in a crosswise position across her abdomen.  While she had
struggled against the ever-increasing pain of her labor, the other two women
had been trying unsuccessfully to reposition the baby for birth.  

“There has
been no change in the babe’s position.  I fear that we cannot delay any
longer.  We need to send for the physician,” Sarah said as she rose from
her position at Scarlett’s side and came around the bed to stand next to Tess,
her expression grim.

There was a medical
doctor in residence in a village not far from the estate, but they had hoped
not to have to call upon his services.  She, Colin and Tess had agreed
that the fewer people she came into contact with during her stay in Scotland,
the better.  Fortunately, the midwife was Tess’s cousin and had been the
perfect person to call upon when her time drew near.
 
However, they had never expected such a
difficult birth.

Tess
nodded.  “I will ask Lord Kenston to send for him at once.”  Bending
down, she brushed her hand against Scarlett’s sweat-dampened cheek.  “I’ll
be right back, dearest,” she said, and then hurried from the room.

A moment
later, she heard Colin’s voice coming from below, calling loudly for Mr.
Harris.

Shortly
after Tess reentered the room, there was a light knock upon the door.

Tess
walked over to open it and Scarlett turned her head to follow her with her
eyes.  When the door opened, she saw Colin standing on the other side, his
face ashen, his expression frightened and full of concern.  She tried to
turn the corners of her lips upward into a reassuring smile, but just then
another flash of pain ripped through her, and she quickly turned away.
 She moaned, her hands clutching tightly at the bed sheets as she tried
not to scream. 

Tess immediately
grasped Colin’s hand and pulled him into the room.  “Propriety
be
dammed,” she muttered.  “Come sit with her, talk to
her.  Try to calm her.”

The
midwife glanced up as he approached.  “The doctor?”

“Mr.
Harris went to fetch him,” he said, his tone ragged as he looked at Scarlett.

“Good.” 
She pulled the damp cloth from Scarlett’s brow, dipped it in the basin and then
placed it once again on her forehead. 

Colin sat
down on the side of the bed and grasped her hand.  “Scarlett?”  His
voice was raw with emotion.  She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice
and tried to focus.

“I’m here
sweetheart.  Everything is going to be fine, I promise,” he crooned
softly. 

“Colin,”
she murmured, her voice a mere wisp of sound.  “Colin, it hurts so much,”
she whispered breathlessly, clenching his hand with what little strength she
had left, and then closed her eyes, grimacing as another wave of pain racked
her body.