Scandal with a Sinful Scot(45)

“Son, while I am glad you are allowing love into your heart at last, you have not fully recovered. Even now you are pale and perspiring,” Oliver stated.

“Then I will make one concession. I will take Jonas with me. He will be a strong arm to lean on. Plus I will have Laddie to keep me company.”

“Allow me to go instead,” Riordan urged.

“You must return to Sabrina and to your occupation.” He gave Riordan a sympathetic look. “He is your twin brother. I understand the need to be there for him. Trust me to stand in your stead.”

Riordan nodded, but his devastated expression tore at Garrett’s heart. “If you will permit, I will leave with Jonas in the carriage right away. You came on your own horses and have transportation home. One day soon, when the country is rife with railway tracks and steam engines, getting about will be a damned sight quicker.” Garrett tried to lighten the mood, but the brooding men of his family were having none of it. “I cannot believe that you are allowing my plan. I thought you would all insist on coming with me.”

“Believe it or not, Brother, we trust your judgment. Riordan told me more than once that you are the rugged stone on which our family’s foundation is built. The mortar that holds us together. Never was it as true as here in this moment.” Julian clapped him on the shoulder while Riordan and Oliver nodded in agreement.

Emboldened by the touching words, Garrett would do all he could to protect those he loved. Now to head to Standon with all haste.





Chapter 21


Abbie ultimately decided to return to her volunteer duties at the sanatorium. Enough feeling sorry for myself. Besides Aidan, there were three other men in residence from various walks of life. She had thought to tell Gethin and Cristyn about Garrett’s proposal for training new physicians to treat addiction, but thought it best that it be left to him to reveal. Besides, the doctor and his daughter had no clue of her connection to the Wollstonecrafts—or Megan’s. As far as they were concerned, she’d gone to Kent to visit an old friend. They knew of Aidan and Garrett by the name of Black. It was not for her to divulge their true identity.

She had toiled most of the morning in the kitchen with a new employee. Thanks to Garrett’s generous contribution, Gethin had hired a woman to do the cleaning and cooking. Mrs. Williams already had a pot of beef stew bubbling on the stove. When the kind woman had offered her some for lunch, Abbie had politely refused, stating that she would head home for a light luncheon and return afterwards to assist with afternoon tea.

Stepping outside the rear entrance, Abbie slipped on her gloves. When she had arrived home, she should have returned to volunteering right away. The work kept her mind busy, and kept her from dwelling on her sadness. Taking a deep breath of cold air and exhaling, she headed for her small house about a half a mile away.

Not far from the sanatorium, Abbie observed a large man partially hidden by a cluster of pine trees. Never seen him before; who could he be? He watched her intently, and a shiver of warning curled about her spine. Though she was not able to make out his features, what she could observe worried her. The arrogant way he stood with legs apart, the scowl on his face. Abbie looked away from him and hurried along the lane. Slowing, she chanced a glance. Thankfully he did not follow her, but instead turned his attention to the sanatorium. Perhaps she was being too apprehensive. Regardless, she picked up her pace toward her home.

“Samuel, I will be fine. There is no need to accompany me.”

The young man held Abbie’s arm while taking in their surroundings with a wary and suspicious eye. “Mr. Garrett and the lordships would have my guts for garters if anything happened to you, Mrs. Hughes, begging your pardon. I should’ve come with you this morning. Especially since you told me at lunch of the strange man lurking about the clinic.”

“No doubt my wild imagination, nothing more.”

“Still, after you’re settled, I’ll reconnoiter the property and the woods surrounding it.”

Once they arrived at the sanatorium, Abbie introduced Samuel as her cousin, who had come to stay for a short visit, and to do odd jobs for her. She despised lying, but everyone accepted her fabrication. Gethin even asked if Samuel would like to earn extra money and take on a couple of repair jobs for him. He agreed, then ducked out to inspect the grounds.

With her duties completed in the kitchen, Cristyn asked, “Would you deliver a cup of tea and a bowl of stew to Aidan Black? I have another patient to see to.”

“Of course.” Abbie had not seen Aidan since the first week of January. She wanted to see if there had been any improvement.

Entering the room, her heart squeezed with compassion at the sight of Garrett’s nephew. In truth, there was not much improvement at all. Aidan sat in a wheeled chair, a wool blanket spread across his lap and another gathered about his thin shoulders. His hair had been cut, though it was still longer than the current fashion. Though his color had improved slightly. The sickly gray shade was now more of an alabaster white. “Good afternoon, Mr. Black.”

He did not reply, but stared at her as she placed the tray on the small table before him. Aidan regarded her shrewdly. “Have we met?”

“I was here the first few days of your stay.”

“No, that’s not it. We have met before. Did we have an affair?” His intense gaze moved over her. “You look my type.”

“From what I’ve heard, any woman drawing breath is your type.”

“Abigail Wharton. I’d recognize that tart tongue anywhere. The years have been kind; you are still lovely.” Aidan didn’t smile, nor did he act particularly thrilled to renew the acquaintance. His tone was disinterested, but he flirted nonetheless. He was still a rake, even in faltering health.

“I didn’t think you would remember me, since you were all of twelve when last we met.” She poured him a mug of tea. “Milk? Sugar?”

“No. Just give me the blasted cup. God knows what strange herbs are in this, as my Welsh keepers will not give me a straight answer. As for the damned stew, I’m not hungry.”

“You must eat,” Abbie replied, in a kind but firm tone.

“If you knew how weary I am of hearing that statement. I will eat it shortly, if I must. I take it you haven’t revealed my real name?”

“It is not for me to expose your secret.” She passed him the mug, then pulled up a chair.

“I’m not in the mood for conversation. Allow me to drink this swill in peace.”

“I have just returned from an extended visit in Kent.”

Aidan sipped his tea, grimacing as he did. “I don’t really care.”

It was obvious from the bored expression on his face, and the equally bored tone of his voice, that he truly did not care. No use revealing any current events, such as Megan’s existence or Garrett being shot. Abbie had volunteered here long enough to understand that the patients needed to be kept in a tranquil environment to hasten along their recovery. Shocking reveals would not be prudent. “It is obvious you do not care about much of anything, else you would not be here.”

“How astute,” Aidan snorted sarcastically.

“My late husband started this sanatorium. His dear friend, Gethin, is carrying on his work along with, Cristyn, his daughter. She is a lovely young woman, eager to help others. Compassionate. From what I’ve observed, she has given you particular attention.”

Aidan glared at her over the rim of his mug, one eyebrow arching. “I am hardly in any condition to notice a pretty girl. What do you want, Abigail? Trying to play matchmaker? This from the woman who broke my uncle’s heart.” He scoffed and continued to sip his tea.

Well. Aidan was certainly nothing like Riordan. Twins they may be, but their personalities could not be more dissimilar. His younger brother was a serious young man committed to making the world a better place. Aidan? Out for his own pleasures. Yet she could see the pain in his eyes. The stark loneliness. “And how do you know of Garrett’s broken heart?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I may have been ‘all of twelve,’ but I was observant enough. I also heard the two of you in the hayloft one night. You were not particularly quiet, considering that you were meeting in secret.” He snorted. “Quite shocking to my young sensibilities.”

Abbie’s cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.

“How did I know of his broken heart? Garrett was miserable after you left. He refused to talk about it or you. Swore me to complete secrecy.”

As she was about to speak, the door burst open and the imposing man Abbie had seen on her way home for luncheon stepped into the room. He closed the door behind him. He was well over six feet in height, though not as tall as Garrett. But he was broader, if it were possible. The stranger was a lurking brute of a man with a strange countenance. A few scars, a crooked nose, yet a cruel handsomeness skulked beneath the well-worn features. It was hard to ascertain his age. Late thirties? Early forties? When the man’s gaze landed on Aidan, his eyes took on a fiery heat.

“Who are you, sir?” Abbie demanded. Goodness, this man exuded an aura of danger. She stood. Should she scream for Gethin? Was Samuel still looking about the property?

“Leave us. I’ve come to talk to Aidan.” His voice was rough, gravelly, and demanding. He also had a slight accent. Irish? Scottish? Hard to tell.