Page 41 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

He set down as his glass, watching with jealousy and curiosity as she threw back her head to laugh at something that Lord Whitmore was saying.

She is the one who must be lonely,he realized with some shock.I have left her alone.

Finally, the last course was cleared away, and Ewan suggested that they all retire to the drawing room for brandy and cards. However, the moment he spoke, Lord Whitmore shook his head.

“I would rather walk after such a filling meal,” he said, winking at Cassandra. “What would you say to showing me around the grounds, Your Grace? Now that I know you are an avid walker, I am sure that you would be able to show me the most charming spots around the estate.”

“I—” Cassandra looked startled as she glanced over at Ewan. “I do not know if I should leave my other guests,” she finished quickly. “And it is dark outside. Perhaps it would be better to show you the grounds in the morning?”

“I will show you around the grounds, Lord Whitmore,” Ewan said. His voice sounded harsh, even to his own ears, and as he drew himself up, he glared down at the earl with all the malevolence he could muster while still not appearing rude. “After all, I know the grounds better than my wife, who has only been here a short time.”

There was a tense silence as Lord Whitmore gazed back at Ewan. His expression was not exactly angry, but he did not look pleased, either.

“I would prefer a tour from the mistress of the house,” he said, his voice low.

Ewan’s jaw hardened. He opened his mouth to reply, sure that whatever words that were about to come out of his mouth would not be considered appropriate for polite company, when Cassandra interrupted him.

“We shall both go,” she said, smiling sweetly at Lord Whitmore. “And it will give you and my husband a chance to discuss the changes to farming that I know you are both eager to speak about.” She batted her eyelashes several times, and Lord Whitmore’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I have heard that you are quite the visionary, Lord Whitmore,” she said, offering him her arm and leading him away from Ewan, toward the entrance hall. “I am sure that you will be impressed with the incredible new designs that my husband and his colleagues are working on.”

“She is very good, is she not?” A low voice said in Ewan’s ear, and he turned to see Lord Pembury standing next to him, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “She knows how to charm men.”

Ewan’s mouth went dry. “She is a very genuine person,” he said stiffly.

“Genuine?” Lord Pembury shook his head. “She is my daughter, which means she has been trained in how to talk to men in power in the right way, in order to get them to do what she wants. She will be an asset to you, Calder, if you choose to use her that way.”

He patted Ewan on the arm, then moved away. Ewan watched him go, a sick feeling in his stomach.

There was not even a small part of him that believed Lord Pembury. Clearly, the man did not know his daughter. But it made him want to strangle the man to think about what it must have been like for Cassandra growing up with such a father.

No wonder she agreed to marry Christopher. She has been trained to do as she is told by that man, even marry a man with a reputation as a rake.

Ewan was about to follow them down the hall when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Miss Ashworth standing behind him, wringing her hands.

“Your Grace,” she muttered, “you must come quick. I have just heard from one of the maids who checked on Annabelle. She has a fever.”

Ewan immediately forgot all about Lord Pembury and Lord Whitmore and their scheming.

“A fever?” he repeated, his heart leaping. “Is it serious? Should we send for a doctor?”

“I do not know,” Miss Ashworth said. “I came to find you at once. I thought you would want to check on her.”

“I do,” Ewan said at once. “Take me to her.”

Upstairs, he found that Annabelle was tossing and turning in bed, her forehead glistening with sweat and the sheets tangled around her feet. He went to her at once, placing a cool hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

“Yes, send for a doctor,” he murmured to Miss Ashworth, who was still lingering in the doorway. “And ask my wife to come as well.”

Ewan pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat with Annabelle, his hand on her shoulder as she flailed this way and that, for thenext few minutes. At last, he heard soft footsteps coming down the corridor, then the door opened, and Cassandra came in.

The moment she saw Annabelle, she let out a small, worried gasp, and hurried to her side. Her brow furrowed, she bent over the girl, pressing her lips to her forehead.

“She is very hot,” she murmured. “How long has she been like this?”

“Miss Ashworth was not sure, but she was not feverish when she went to bed an hour ago.”

“We should get a cool cloth for her head,” Cassandra murmured. She rang for a servant, and within a few minutes, a basin with clothes had been delivered to the room. Cassandra rang one out, then placed it on Annabelle’s head. The moment she did, the girl quieted a little. After another minute, her face looked a little less red. Cassandra took another cloth and began to sponge around her neck and along her arms.

“We must keep her cool,” she murmured. She passed the cloth once more over Annabelle’s face, and the girl’s eyes fluttered open.