The Scoundrel's Pleasure Read online

  “I understand his father died before he was born.”

  She held her breath again, expelling it softly. Her heart didn’t seem to want to stop drubbing against her ribcage. “How did you know that?”

  “Delilah informed me—not that it was any of my business; I was merely curious. And your fiancé, Hamish the Boat? I saw him in the village the other day; he seems like a fine fellow.”

  Fiancé? Ah, dear Delilah. “Hamish is a fine man.” She saw no reason to contradict him.

  Duncan changed his position on the bench at the table. “I saw your boy and your fiancé playing catch outside earlier this morning. They seem to be very close.”

  He sounded wistful. Almost vulnerable. She studied him briefly, noting that age had crept up on him slowly, because he still had a youthful quality about him, even though his face had become more handsome. If that was possible.

  “You don’t have a family?”

  He looked away, toward the window. “No. Other than my brothers and my sister, and a cousin, I have no one. Not that I’m aware of anyway.”

  Oh, wouldn’t he be surprised! Although he sounded wistful, she had no problem vowing never to let him know he had a son. She almost pitied him, which made her angry, with him and with herself. She didn’t want to feel anything toward him at all, much less pity. She glanced at his cup. “We have ale in the cooler. You can help yourself any time.” She pretended to finish counting supplies and shut the pantry door. “It’s not as if you haven’t paid for the privilege.” She turned to him, her hands on her hips. “The huge amount of money you gave Delilah was a bribe; I have no doubt of that.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever I can do to sweeten the deal.”

  Now she was annoyed. “Just what makes you think I’m going to give in?”

  “The safety of your loved ones,” he answered.

  She didn’t respond at first, but already she knew it was going to be hard to hate him. “Why are you doing this for us?”

  “Because we aren’t devils and we aren’t demons. We want your land, but we don’t want to put you out into the street. We want to make sure everyone is happy in the end.”

  For some reason she didn’t want to appear too eager. Then he smiled that smile she had never completely forgotten, and she fell headlong into the dimple in his cheek.

  He stood, took his cup and put it on the counter beside the pump. “Good night Izzy.”

  • • •

  He left her, feeling proud of himself. She was weakening. So was he. He wasn’t immune to her at all. She’d been a sweet, lovely girl ten years ago and she was a luscious woman now, and filled with confidence. And she had that spirit that he’d seen only briefly when they had first met. Duncan only hoped he could make good on his promise to her.

  • • •

  Delilah met Isobel in a room that had once been where the women gathered to be selected by the johns. No trace of that was left—not the red velvet couches, the wallpaper with the naked women on it or the bar in the corner where the men could buy a drink to fortify themselves before joining the girls.

  “Ye’ve been talking to His Lordship.” Delilah was direct. “Maybe ye should just tell him the truth. Why dig yourself a deeper hole than the one you’re in?”

  Isobel gave her a scolding look. “I will do no such thing, and you won’t either. Do you hear me? He’s already seen Ian and has no clue that he’s the boy’s father. Let’s just hope it stays that way.”

  Delilah sighed and looked a bit hurt. “I always do what’s best for ye, Izzy, and I’m not sure your decision is the best one.”

  Hamish ambled into the room smoking his pipe. “What’re ye lassies gabbling about?”

  “She wants to keep Ian’s parentage a secret from ‘ye know who.’”

  “I certainly do, and Hamish, I want you to promise me you’ll do the same.” Isobel put her hand on his arm; he covered hers with his paw.

  “Ye know I’ll do whatever ye want, if I can, Izzy, but when a man doesn’t know about the family he has abandoned, he is innocent, unlike the man who knowingly deserts a family. That da doesn’t deserve any respect, y’see. Me own da left us when I was eight, and I’ve never stopped hating what that did to my mam.”

  “I know how it hurt all of you, Hamish, but—”

  “I won’t tell him, Izzy, but if he should ask, I dinna know if I can lie. The man doesn’t even know he left ye with a bairn. He may have been a wild rascal, but ye don’t know what he’d have done if he’d found out.”

  “I have a pretty good idea he and his noble family would have found a way to take Ian from me, that’s what I know.”

  Hamish furrowed his brow and sucked hard on his meerschaum, smoke snaking out around it. “A man who leaves knowing what he’s done is different from one who leaves ignorant of it, y’see.” He raised both hands in defeat. “I’ll try to keep the secret, if that’s what ye wish, Izzy, but…We could make this easy if ye’d only marry me. I’d adopt Ian in a heartbeat and no one could take him away from ye.”

  Never before had Hamish’s offer sounded more inviting. “But, how do we know he wouldn’t find a way to prove he’s the father? I think the natural father would have more influence than either of us. And remember, he has money and power.”

  “Aye, there is that. But,” he continued, a twinkle in his eye, “ye could run away with me and he’d never find ye.” Yes, if there was a way to disappear with Ian, her whole life would be perfect. Well, almost perfect. Hamish still deserved a woman who loved him with all her heart.

  “I see how the breed looks at ye, Izzy,” Hamish continued. “He likes what he sees, and who wouldn’t? You’re the bonniest woman on the island in my opinion.”

  “Nonsense,” Isobel said, yet she’d felt Duncan MacNeil’s eyes on her as well. Or maybe it was because of what she still felt for the father of her son. She was foolish to think of him at all, especially when she had a perfectly wonderful man who cared for both her and her son, a man who would sweep all of her problems away. And yet…

  Isobel hugged him. “Thank you. But I simply can’t change my story at this point. It’s too late. My whole life has been a fabrication; how will it look if I spring this on everyone now? But thank you, you two, for helping me dig a deeper hole.” She wished His Lordship hadn’t called her Izzy. Now, whenever she heard it she would think of him and how his voice uttered the name so smoothly it would have melted butter on an ice floe.

  Lily stepped into the room and noted the embrace. “Am I interrupting?”

  Isobel pulled away from Hamish. “Of course not, Lily. I was just getting their promises that neither would spill the beans about Ian’s birth. I hope I have your discretion as well.”

  Lily had Fifi in her arms. “Since I don’t know who my natural parents are, I can’t really understand why either Ian or His Lordship wouldn’t like to know one another, but I’ll abide by your decision, Isobel.”

  Isobel knew very little of Lily’s history, other than that she’d been abandoned and brought up by gypsies somewhere in the south of Scotland. It was certainly an unusual upbringing for any child, for travelers never stayed in one place long enough to put down roots. Therefore, education wasn’t a priority for their children. But Lily was very well read and an excellent teacher; her rapport with the children spoke to that. Although, Isobel recalled, the young woman had some very strange quirks.

  Isobel didn’t believe she, herself, was in any way an unhygienic person, but Lily’s proclivity for washing her upper body and lower body clothing separately puzzled Isobel. When she asked, Lily explained that the lower body was unclean. Wash water used for those garments should not be mixed with water used for blouses, camisoles and such. At first Isobel thought she was kidding, but now, with all of Lily’s other oddities, she realized the girl was absolutely serious.

  Hamish laughed, bringing Isobel out of her reverie back to the problem at hand. She could not allow Duncan MacNeil to learn he had a son. He hadn’t appeared suspicious at a
ll. She hoped to keep it that way.

  • • •

  Duncan had arranged to meet Archie, Fergie the Burn’s son, at Danny’s by the Glass to see if he was really interested in work at the new cannery.

  When he’d last seen Archie he was a lad of twelve or thirteen. Now the man was tall and wide shouldered like his father, but had a full head of dark hair. His father’s scalp was tanned like leather from years of working in the sun.

  The two men, Duncan and Archie, sat in a quiet corner, pints in front of them. A new father, Archie was anxious to make a decent living and had mentioned to his own da that if something didn’t come up soon, he’d take his young family and go to the mainland.

  He leaned his meaty forearms on the table and held Duncan’s gaze. “If I understand ye right, there’ll be work a’ plenty when this gets goin’. I want in.”

  Duncan appreciated his candor. “Tell me what you do, Archie. I mean, are you a carpenter? Can you manage people? What are your skills?”

  “Aye, I can handle a hammer and saw well. Me da made sure of that. I built a shed behind me place out near the river; tight as a drum it is. Come by and see it fer yerself.”

  “I may do that.” Although Duncan believed the man, he always liked to see for himself how a man worked. Early in his ranching years, he had hired men who boasted of their talents only to discover they weren’t worth a tinker’s damn.

  “Me brother, Reuben, is also good with his hands. He’s just turned eighteen, but he’s a hard worker,” Archie said. “Clive is only eleven, but he’d be a good and proper runner.”

  “I’ll need a number of good carpenters, Archie.” He thought a moment and then came to a conclusion. “Tell you what. You know these fellows on the island; I don’t. Can I leave you in charge of getting a crew together? If you can, try to find men—or boys even sixteen years old—who can do a variety of jobs. There will be plenty of work to go around, and I guarantee the pay will be good. And we can use Clive to run errands, something the older boys probably wouldn’t like to do.”

  “So, what kind of work needs to be done, then?”

  Duncan took a deep drink of ale. “I need men who can make stone cladding, masons, joiners, framers, roofers, glaziers, and a good bunch of laborers. I do intend to see if Ferris the Peat wants to oversee the roofing, since he’s done such a good job on his own.”

  Nodding, Archie said, “I can think of a few fellows. Some of them will know others. I’ll get the job done for ye, count on that.”

  “How much time will you need?”

  Archie scratched his square chin. “If ye can give me two weeks, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Two weeks it is,” Duncan answered.

  They stood and shook hands. Duncan felt good about this. Things were beginning to happen. Now he only hoped it would be this easy to convince Isobel Dunbar to sell him the property.

  Chapter Six

  Later that week, as Duncan returned to Sheiling from Fletcher’s, he noticed a wagon ahead of him and a man appearing to study his horse’s leg. As he got closer he realized it was the big fisherman, Hamish. Hamish the Boat. Hamish the Fiancé, Duncan thought grimly.

  He reined his mount alongside. “Got a problem?”

  The fisherman squinted up at Duncan. “Aye, the mare threw a shoe. I’ve been a fisherman all me life and can do most anything on a boat, but never did learn how to shoe a horse, y’see.”

  “You’re in luck,” Duncan answered, cracking his knuckles. “Horse shoeing is one of my specialties.” He dismounted and introduced himself. They shook hands and Duncan, who was not a small man by any means, felt as if his hand had been swallowed by the big man’s paw. “Aye,” said Hamish, “ye’re the one hopin’ to buy Izzy’s place, that right?”

  Duncan squatted by the horse’s flank, grasped the animal’s back leg, and studied the hoof. “That’s the plan. There are obstacles, of course.”

  The fisherman laughed his big laugh. “Aye, Izzy isn’t an easy one to persuade, no matter what the topic.”

  Duncan pulled out his knife and cleaned out around the animal’s cuticle. “You managed to convince her to marry you.”

  Hamish laughed again. “Don’t I wish! Can’t tell ye how many times I’ve asked and the lass has turned me down every time. Just asked her again last night and she still refused y’see. What made ye think we were engaged?”

  “I guess I misheard some information.”

  “Aye, that ye did.”

  Duncan felt the man studying him. He glanced up, meeting Hamish’s gaze. “Tell me something about the boy, Ian. I’ve noticed how good you two are together.”

  Hamish was quiet for so long, Duncan thought he wasn’t going to say anything. On a deep, rumbling sigh, Hamish replied, “That’s a long, complicated story, mate, one I sorta promised I wouldn’t tell. Sure ye want to hear it?”

  Duncan stroked the mare’s flank. “Why not? Until the other day, I didn’t even know she had a son.”

  Hamish cleared his throat, took out a pipe and smacked it a few times against the wagon, dislodging tobacco. “The lad is schooled off island. Comes home pretty often, but stays close to his mam. And to me, when I’m here.”

  So Rosalyn had been right about that. Duncan continued to work on the mare’s hoof. “Sounds like you’re protecting him from something.”

  Hamish let out a whoosh of air, seeming to have come to some conclusion. “I’m going to break a promise and tell ye a little story, mate.”

  Duncan looked up, noting the fisherman stood with his feet wide apart and his beefy arms over his chest. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “There once was a sweet, naïve young thing,” the fisherman began, “who had been kept from the cruelties of the world, making her perhaps too gullible and trusting. She lived in a place that might have made other lassies promiscuous. But not this lass. She fell in love with a rascal of a fellow who swept her off her feet, took what was hers, planted a seed, and left her without a backward glance.”

  Duncan chuckled at the set up and brushed off the mare’s hoof, letting the animal put her foot on the ground. “Except for the seed planting, it sounds a lot like me.”

  Hamish studied him a while, and then said, “’Tis.”

  At first, Duncan didn’t understand. “What? Wait. I thought her husband was killed before the boy was born.”

  “Aye, that’s the story all right,” Hamish answered.

  “Well, which is it?” Duncan’s heart was banging against his ribs.

  “’Tis the story made up before Ian was born. The lad had to be told something, and the truth was not what any lad would want to hear. And people around here loved Isobel; whatever story she and her aunt concocted was good enough for them. They may believe her story or they may not. ’Tis been nine years since the lad came into this world. Ye were gone,” he said with emphasis. “She was safe to tell her own story, y’see.”

  Duncan’s ears rang. “How does she know it’s mine?” The minute the words were out, he could have kicked himself.

  Hamish gave him a scornful look. “I told you that Izzy was never a loose lassie, sir. And if ye look carefully at the boy, ye might see some things that are familiar.”

  Isobel. The virgin. The mother of his child? How could he not have noticed? Duncan was thunderstruck. He staggered, leaned against the wagon, and rubbed his hands over his face.

  “I promised Izzy I wouldn’t say anything to ye, but being a man whose da ran off and left his family of his own free will, I didn’t think it was fair for ye not to know what ye left behind when ye sailed away, y’see.”

  Duncan shook his head in disbelief. “And I thought she was aloof because I’m trying to buy the building she’s so attached to.”

  “Aye, that too. Ye got the double whammy.”

  Duncan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; either way, his eyes welled up. Hamish clamped a paw on Duncan’s shoulder, dragging him from his musing. “Well mate, what are ye going to do with this information?”

&
nbsp; Duncan was still processing the news. “The boy thinks I’m dead?”

  “Well, not ye, personally, but the image of the man who supposedly wed his mam.”

  Duncan heard the contempt in the fisherman’s voice. “I was an arrogant son of a bitch when I lived here ten years ago. I’ve regretted my behavior countless times since then.” His thoughts turned to the castle.

  “Why wasn’t my family notified? Surely they wouldn’t have let her carry the burden all by herself.”

  “’Twas no burden to Izzy, mate. And you’d best talk to her about those details; I’ve done enough damage.” He turned to leave, then added, “Izzy’s biggest fear is someone from your family learning his parentage, and Ian being taken away from her. Now ye’re here; she has the same fears, y’see. Money is a powerful weapon; ye have it, she does not. At any rate, she’ll probably take a broom to me arse when she learns what I’ve done because I sorta gave her me word I wouldn’t tell ye.”

  Hamish bent to check the mare’s hoof. “She’ll be all right until I get her to the smithy?”

  Duncan nodded absently and wasn’t even aware when Hamish and his wagon began lumbering on toward Sheiling.

  • • •

  Isobel and Lily folded laundry in the small room off Isobel’s bedroom. It had once been Paula’s suite, so there was a nice tub, filled with bubbly water just waiting for Isobel. There was also a rather large mirror over the dry sink. A square table was tucked into a corner, making it the perfect place to fold and stack clothing and bedding.

  “These dish towels look like they’re ready for the rag man’s pickup,” Isobel announced, frowning at the condition of the cloths. “And look at these drawers! The ties are so tangled it’ll take me a week to untangle them.”

  Lily picked up the drawers. “I don’t know how ye can wash everything in the same water.”

  “I’ve been doing it for years, my dear, and nothing has happened to me yet.”