“We hate our father far more than you ever could,” Mac put in. “He abandoned you. We had to live with him.”
“It’s their father you want to hurt,” Beth said. “I don’t much blame you. I’d like to have fifteen minutes alone with him, myself.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Cameron said. He also moved to the humidor. “Trust me.”
“He’s dead and gone, where he can’t hurt anyone again,” Beth said. “Why carry on his legacy?”
“You’re trying to wrap me around your finger, my lady. You’ve thrown in your lot with them. Why should I thank you?”
Ian lifted his head again. “Because she’s right. Our father is dead and gone. He caused us all misery, and we shouldn’t keep letting him do it. Beth and I will have another marriage ceremony at my house in Scotland in a few weeks. We will all gather there and be finished with our father from that time on.”
Beth looked at him with shining eyes. “Do you understand how much I love you, Ian Mackenzie?”
Ian had no idea why this was relevant, and he didn’t answer. Everyone else started talking at once. Ian ignored them, anchoring himself with Beth. He wanted so much to leave her alone, to not hurt her, but the warmth and scent of her drove out everything else. He needed her. “Bloody hell,” Fellows said. “You’re all madmen.” “And you’re one of us,” Hart said grimly. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Cameron rumbled his big laugh. “Get the man a drink.
He looks like he’s about to swoon.”
“You’ll have a Scots accent before you know it,” Mac said. “The ladies like it, Fellows.”
“God, no.”
Daniel chuckled. “Ye mean ‘Och, noe.’”
Mac and Cameron dissolved into raucous laughter. “I think we should celebrate,” Daniel shouted. “With lots of whiskey. Don’t you think so, Dad?”
A week later, Hart’s coach let Ian and Beth, Curry and Katie out at Euston Station to take the train back north. The brothers and Isabella had said they would follow in their own time, promising that they’d be present for the elaborate wedding Ian would give Beth for consenting to be his wife.
The weather had turned rainy, and Ian was anxious to get back to the wide-open spaces of Scotland. At the station, while Curry rushed off to purchase tickets after settling Beth into the first-class lounge, Ian turned around to see Hart coming at him out of the rain.
The fog parted for his brother’s broad shoulders, just like the rest of the world did. Travelers’ heads turned as they recognized the famous and wealthy duke.
“I wanted to speak to you before you went,” Hart said stiffly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Yes.” Ian hadn’t liked the way his rage mounted every time he found himself alone with Hart, and so he had found means to not be alone with him. Hart started to pull Ian aside, out of the crowd, but Ian remained stubbornly in the middle of the platform, the crowd snaking around them. Hart heaved a resigned sigh. “You are right that I’m a ruthless bastard. I truly didn’t know that for five years you were trying to protect me.” He hesitated, his eyes sliding sideways like Ian’s always did. “I’m sorry.”
Ian studied the steam billowing from the train across the platform. “I regret Mrs. Palmer’s death.” He watched a puff of steam swell, and then dissipate. “She loved you, but you didn’t love her.”
“What are you talking about? She was my mistress for years. Do you think her death means nothing to me?” “You will miss her, yes, and you cared for her. But you didn’t love her.” Ian looked at Hart, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. “I know the difference now.”
A muscle moved in Hart’s jaw. “Damn you, Ian. No, I didn’t love her. Yes, I cared for her. But yes, I used her, and before you remind me, yes, I used my wife, and both of them paid the ultimate price. What do you think that’s doing to me?”
“I don’t know.” Ian studied his brother, for the first time seeing him as something other than the stern, strong edifice of Hart Mackenzie. Hart the man looked out of his ambercolored eyes, and Hart the man was twisted in anguish. Ian put a hand on Hart’s shoulder. “I think you should have made Eleanor marry you all those years ago. Your life would have been ten times better.”
“My wise little brother. Eleanor jilted me, if you remember. Forcefully.”
Ian shrugged. “You should have insisted. It would have been better for both of you.”
“The Queen of England I can handle, Gladstone I can tolerate, and the House of Lords I can make to dance to my tunes.” Hart shook his head. “But not Lady Eleanor Ramsay.”
Ian shrugged again and pulled his hand away. His thoughts moved from Hart and his troubles to Beth waiting for him in the warm lounge. “I have a train to catch.” “Wait.” Hart put himself in front of Ian. They were the same height, looking straight into each other’s faces, though Ian had to move his gaze to Hart’s cheekbone. “One more thing. Beth, too, was completely right about me. I use you shamelessly. But with one difference.” Hart put his hands on Ian’s shoulders. “I love you, if I can be unmanly and say so. I didn’t take you out of the asylum just so you could help me with my politics. I did it because I wanted you free from that hell and given the chance to live a normal life.” “I know,” Ian said. “I don’t help you because you command me to.”
He saw Hart’s eyes grow moist, and suddenly his brother pulled him into a bear hug. The crowd milling around them turned their heads, smiled, or raised eyebrows. Ian held Hart close, fists pressing into his brother’s back. The two released each other, but Hart kept his hands on lan’s arms.
“Take Beth home and be happy. It’s over.” Ian glanced over as Curry opened the door to the waiting room, and Beth came out. She looked at Ian and smiled. “Maybe it’s over for you. For me, it’s just beginning.” Hart looked surprised, and then he nodded in understanding as Beth came to Ian, her hands outstretched, a warm smile on her face. Beth turned and planted a kiss on a startled Hart’s cheek, then took lan’s arm and let him walk her to the train.
In the train compartment, Curry fussed about making sure they’d have everything for the long ride north, until Ian sent him off. Rain and gathering dusk darkened the sky. Beth sank to the cushions and watched Ian yank the curtains closed against the gloom.