Page 2 of This Laird of Mine

Regardless of his father’s past sins, Jules had wanted to know the truth about his release. Grayson had discovered part of what Jules longed to know. His father and brother had not had the funds to pay his ransom and release him from gaol. But they also hadn’t come to visit or bring him a scrap of food, or even a blanket, some small comfort to ease his pain. And, to add more misery to his already overburdened soul, Grayson was no more able to discover who had secured Jules’s freedom than he had during his own investigation. It was why Jules had gone to Edinburgh after he had left Bellhaven Castle and Jane behind. He needed answers about who had offered him this unknown kindness.

A chill worked its way across Jules’s neck. If not Jane or his father, then who had released him? The knowledge that he was indebted to some unknown benefactor shook him to his core. He would be beholden to no one, no matter who that one might be.

Jules drew another slow, deep breath at the blatant proof his father had abandoned him. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling empty inside. God, it hurt to know the man he once loved had not cared enough to rescue him, and had never loved him in return.

But with his next breath, Jules forced that pain and isolation away. He might have been denied a loving and decent family, but something good had come about regardless. Whoever had paid his ransom and released him from gaol had given him a second chance. His life had come down to this moment, when he was broken and alone. Yet, the opportunity to change everything was only a heartbeat away.

This was his moment and his crossroad. He could go down with his family, or fight for the life he wanted, despite it all.

Jules’s throat tightened and his palms grew damp.

“Milord,” Fin said, bringing him back to the present. When Jules failed to retrieve the other letters, Fin stepped closer, jiggling the folded paper in an attempt to gain his master’s attention.

Fin’s worn boot caught on the carpet, and he pitched forward. The letters fell to the carpet in one direction as Fin fell to the other.

Jules caught the old retainer as he went down, then guided him to the chair behind the desk. “Sit here, Fin. Catch your breath.”

“But the letters—”

“Are probably more debtor notices,” Jules said, flexing his right arm as he stepped back, grateful he had regained his strength over the last seven months. His time in gaol had stripped him of more than his soul.

“Nay,” Fin protested. “Lady Jane wrote one, but the other letter is in an unfamiliar female hand.”

Jules’s curiosity won out. He bent to retrieve the letters. He paused for a moment as his fingers brushed the thick, intricately woven tapestry on the table and floors. It seemed odd that when everything else had been sold to pay the estate’s debts, the carpets still remained. He frowned and scooped up the letters.

He broke the seal on Jane’s letter after tossing the others on the desk.

Dearest Jules,

When I first heard from the lady herself that you had married, I must admit I was hurt. I had so hoped to be included in your celebration. However, after meeting the glorious creature you now call wife, I can understand your haste. She is, in every way, your perfect match. I forgive you and congratulate you on a job well done. I look forward to seeing you in two days when you can introduce all of us to your new bride properly.

Your friend always, Jane

It took the words a few moments to sink in. But when they did, Jules dropped the letter on the desk. How was it possible to meet a person who was merely a figment of his imagination?

“Milord?” Fin’s voice broke in.

He looked across the desk at his servant, trying to find the words despite his confusion. “This cannot be.”

“Beg pardon?” Fin’s eyes narrowed with concern.

Jules reached for the next letter, which was from Claire, the one he knew to be written by Grayson. It was exactly as they had discussed—containing trivialities about her daily life. Isn’t that the sort of letter a wife would write to her husband?

He tossed that letter aside and reached for the other letter in the unfamiliar female hand, and broke the seal. Neat and fluid lettering filled the page.

Jules, my love,

I have been to see your friends Lord and Lady Kincaid as well as Lord and Lady Galloway and invited them to visit us at Kildare Manor. The couples as well as Sir David Buchanan have agreed to escort me northward in two days’ time. Please have the house readied for our guests. Until then.

Yours truly, Claire

His vision blurred and the room faded from view as a sense of disorientation consumed him. Was this a scam of some sort? Had someone discovered his secret and now intended to take advantage? Who would do such a thing? And how in God’s name had they discovered his secret?

Jules swallowed hard, thinking. What madness was this? Was Grayson somehow involved? His solicitor was the only person who knew the truth, the one who had been paid to falsify his new bride. Claire did not exist. Would never exist.

Yet someone claiming to be his wife was meeting his friends, and coming to him in two days’ time.

He had known the moment he arrived at Kildare Manor that the immediate solution to his problem was to marry a rich bride, yet even now he preferred a fake spouse to one with funds, because a false bride would never see his faults and could never hurt him. Jules raked his hands through his hair. A wife? A real wife?