"This way, m'lord!" the innkeeper said in what he probably thought was a grand manner. "Yer friends are in the front parlor. I've laid them a nice fire and it'll soon be cozy and warm."

"Thank you." Hugh paused by the door. "You don't happen to have anything to drink, do you?"

"I brought the ladies some sherry, as requested, and the gent asked fer a pint of me best ale. Would you like some as well, m'lord?"

"I was hoping for something stronger."

The portly man's eyes twinkled and he looked over his shoulder before leaning forward to say in a loud whisper, "I might have a little something in me cellars that the tariff men don't know nuffin' about."

"What's that?"

"Port. The best ye've ever had!"

"Bring a bottle." Hugh paused. "No, bring two. One for here and one for the road. I fear I shall need them both."

The landlord beamed. "Aye, m'lord."

There was no more loitering; Hugh walked into the parlor.

As he'd expected, Lady Galloway, Caitlyn, and the forbidding old nurse were gathered around Triona, who sat upon the settee. Lady Galloway was beside her, patting her hand and saying in an angry tone, "-what a horrid thing to have happened! I vow, when Caitlyn walked into the room, I could not believe my eyes! And then Nurse came in, positively squalling that you'd been abducted! Fortunately, your uncle arrived home from White's at just that precise moment. I was never so glad to see him in my life! He immediately knew what to do and decided that we would all set out after you and-"

"I wasna squallin'," the nurse said indignantly. She caught sight of Hugh and moved protectively to block Triona from his sight. "Och, dinna even look at her, ye rogue!"

"Your charge is safe from me." Hugh removed his gloves and went to stand at the far side of the fireplace, which was putting out nice heat. Observing Caitlyn and Triona so close together, he saw that Caitlyn was by far the more beautiful; her features were perfection, her eyes a deep brown, her hair golden, her movements graceful.

But it was Triona who held his gaze. Her face was fuller and more mature. Her eyes, a light hazel fringed with ridiculously long lashes and framed by those d.a.m.ned impudent spectacles, held intelligence and wit; her mouth was a plump plum that begged to be tasted. Whereas Caitlyn was pure beauty, Triona had an earthy sensuality that belied the prim way she sat and the stern line of the wire-framed spectacles.

She quirked a brow, as if asking why he was staring. She deserved a good stare, though he doubted she knew it.

He sent her a mocking bow, which made her color and look away. Now that she was finally out of that d.a.m.ned cloak, he was oddly pleased to see that he'd been right; she had a lushly curved figure. Just looking at her full, rounded b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against her prim gown made his mouth water appreciatively. He'd always liked women who were shaped like women, not broomsticks, and Triona Hurst had more than her share of curves. In fact, she- Lord Galloway walked forward to stand between Hugh and Triona. "My lord," the older man snapped, his color even higher than before, "we must speak about this unfortunate incident and what must be done to correct it." He glanced back at the women. "We cannot speak here. Join me by the window." Without looking to see if Hugh followed, Galloway marched to the far side of the room.

Hugh's jaw clenched. He wasn't used to people speaking to him as if he were an eight-year-old caught stealing pies from the kitchen.

"MacLean?" Galloway's voice rose imperiously.

Hugh clenched his hands, his anger rising. Outside the snug inn, a sudden wind rattled the doors and shutters. The horses in the innyard began to prance and whinny.

"Lawks!" Nurse screeched, looking up as blown snow struck the windows and the pine roof shingles clattered overhead.

"Good heavens! What's happening?" Lady Galloway's frightened voice warbled.

Caitlyn hugged her aunt, her eyes wide with fear.

Only Triona remained calm, looking at him with an accusing stare that made his thoughts stutter.

Calm yourself, MacLean! This will only make matters worse. Left unabated, his temper would feed the winds and they would grow. They would shudder the house and rip trees from their roots. They would make the rivers and streams flood roads and fields and villages. They would lift barns and houses from their stone foundations and toss them like toys.

Once the winds reached a certain level they became a force of their own, powerful enough to kill. That was why every MacLean struggled to maintain his temper. Legend said that if every member of a generation performed a deed of great good, the curse would end. So far, no generation had managed to perform deeds significant enough. Hugh wondered if there really was a way to end it. That was the problem with attempting to understand an ancient curse supposedly set upon the family by a mysterious white witch; after a few centuries there was no way to separate truth from myth.

The wind pounded against the windows. Lord Galloway sent a startled glance at Hugh, who clenched his jaw tighter. In all his life, only once had he allowed his temper to unleash completely-when his brother Callum had died. Seeing the devastation afterward, he'd vowed never to let it loose again, especially once he'd realized that his use of the curse was different from his brothers'-a secret known to only one other person.

Hugh closed his eyes and took deep breaths, letting them hiss through his teeth as he exhaled. In his mind, he imagined a small whirl of wind. He opened his hand and closed it tightly about the swirl and squeezed with all of his might, all of his concentration.

His heartbeat slowed, a dull pressure mounting behind his eyes. He squeezed tighter. Then tighter still.

His head pounded fiercely yet he continued past the pain.

His muscles ached with tension, sweat beading on his brow.

Slowly, the winds outside abated. When he could no longer hear more than a faint breeze, Hugh uncoiled his fist and allowed his muscles to relax. His head pounded sickly, a wave of nausea replacing the fierce power that left him as limp as a rag.

"It's going away, praise be!" Lady Galloway breathed.

"Of course it is," Lord Galloway stated. "It's a typical storm burst, nothing more." He glared at Hugh. "Come, MacLean! We have things to discuss."

Hugh swallowed a hot retort. He couldn't allow his temper to slip again; he didn't have the strength to control the winds a second time. He sent Triona a quick glance, but her gaze was fixed out the window. A faint breeze swirled about the carriages, stirring the snow with a weak finger. Triona's hazel gaze turned to Hugh, sure knowledge in her expression.

She believes in the curse. The knowledge surprised him and, for a moment, calmed him. She believes and yet she isn't afraid.

If he hadn't felt as weak and ill as a kitten, he might even have smiled. But his knees were shaking and he had to sit down soon or make a fool of himself. He turned on his heel and joined Galloway by the window, then dropped gratefully into a seat, his knees buckling and tossing him against the cushions.

Lord Galloway scowled, no doubt thinking it would have been polite of Hugh to offer a seat to the older man first.

Hugh gestured to the chair opposite. "My lord?" He rubbed his temples, where a low, thundering roar seemed to have lodged.

Lord Galloway sat and turned a stern glare on Hugh. "You have much to answer for. Thanks to you, my niece has been compromised."

"I thought she was her sister or I would have returned her." Hugh wished the a.r.s.e would speak more quietly.

"As you can see, she is not. Triona is an innocent. Though her actions may have been impetuous, they were completely innocuous." Galloway seemed to think Hugh would argue, for he waited, his mouth pressed in a challenging line.

Hugh managed a shrug. "As you say."

The older man's gaze narrowed. "You were alone with my niece in your coach for quite some time. I must ask"-Galloway leaned closer, his voice mercifully lowered-"did you touch her?"

He had, though not to the extent Galloway feared. Still, if Hugh looked at what had happened in the coach-pulling Caitriona into his lap, holding her there, kissing her pa.s.sionately-the answer would have to be a resounding "h.e.l.l, yes."

And he had no remorse. It was a d.a.m.ned shame he hadn't touched her more, especially if this escapade turned out to be as expensive an error as it seemed it would.

Galloway frowned. "Your silence speaks for itself."

Hugh merely stared back, his chin lifted, his eyes half-closed against the pain shooting through his temples.

Galloway's mouth thinned. "Fine, then. I shall a.s.sume the worst. Though she's twenty-three years of age, I am still responsible for my niece's safety. She is still a maid, and you abducted an innocent woman!"

"That was not my intention."

"No, your intention was to abduct her sister, which is just as nefarious."

"I had hoped to frighten Caitlyn Hurst into leaving my brother alone. She was blatant in her attempt to trap him into marriage." Hugh met Galloway's gaze directly. "She announced on more than one occasion, before witnesses, that she would stop at nothing to do so. Furthermore, she intended to be in that coach, for I discovered her cloak and a bandbox hidden beneath a seat. So when I saw a blond woman in my brother's coach, I a.s.sumed Triona to be Caitlyn. Anyone would have done the same."

Lord Galloway nearly turned purple. "Caitlyn may have shown a want of decorum, but her sister should not be made to pay for that. Triona has been gently raised. I daresay she's never been more than twenty miles from the vicarage in her life."

Hugh found himself looking at her once more. Her face was turned away as her sister spoke to her, an earnest expression on both their faces. "They look remarkably alike."

Galloway's gaze followed Hugh's and the older man's face softened. "They are twins, though it is easy enough to tell them apart, especially when they are in the same room."

"Which they weren't."

"It doesn't matter. You had no business attempting to frighten a mere girl for nothing more than a few brash words."

"Caitlyn Hurst has been running wild since she arrived in London. Someone had to take her in hand."

Galloway's mouth turned white. "Her aunt and I were working to do just that, as was Triona. She had come to London to convince her sister to behave with more decorum."

Wonderful. The girl was sheltered, innocent, and a do-gooder. Word by word, he was being pushed toward the very edge of the cliff.

Hugh rubbed his neck, his eyes hot and aching. He wished for nothing more than the promised bottle of port and the peace and quiet of Alexander's coach, without a d.a.m.ned seductive innocent to tempt him.

"Well, MacLean?" Galloway said loudly, which caused the conversation on the other side of the room to come to a halt. "What do you have to say for your treatment of my niece?"

d.a.m.n it all, Lord Galloway would settle for only one answer-marriage. Hugh had no desire to be married. He'd almost made that mistake once before, and would happily swallow a hundred nails to avoid it again. "I will apologize to your niece for upsetting her, but I should point out that no one saw her enter my carriage, other than her nurse. If you and Lady Galloway will escort her back to London, no one will be the wiser."

Galloway suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I wish that were true."

Hugh's heart sank like a boulder dropped into an icy pond.

"Once Nurse realized that Triona had been taken in your coach, she raced back to London to inform us, and Lord and Lady Colchester and their daughter, Ca.s.sandra, were with us in the sitting room. They'd escorted Caitlyn from Bond Street."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! Lady Colchester is a vicious gossip."

"Yes. By the time we return to London, everyone will know what has happened."

That was it, then. As much as he wished it otherwise, Hugh couldn't ignore the cold, hard fact that his arrogant action had led to Triona Hurst's ruin. He was doomed. Through gritted teeth, Hugh said, "I will come to your house tomorrow morning to make the arrangements."

"Do not look so angry, my lord. This is a mess of your own making."

"I did nothing but attempt to protect my brother. I will not apologize for that."

Lord Galloway's brows lowered. "I've met your brother on many occasions, my lord, and I can't imagine he either needed or wished for your protection." When Hugh opened his mouth to answer hotly, Galloway held up a hand. "Right now, I don't care a feather for Laird MacLean's opinion." He glanced toward the silent group of women, then turned his face away from them and added in an urgent undertone, "Miss Hurst has a younger sister and several younger brothers, not to mention that it is quite possible her father might lose his position when this scandal breaks. They will all suffer if her reputation is not quickly restored."

So he was now responsible for the future happiness of the entire family, was he? He longed to shove his fist down Galloway's throat.

Galloway straightened. "You will apply for a special license as soon as possible, and the marriage will take place three days from tomorrow. Do you understand?"

Hugh crossed his arms, refusing to answer.

The older man's lips thinned and he said crisply, "Good, then I shall expect you tomorrow at nine." He rose from his chair, and Hugh forced himself to rise as well.

d.a.m.n the man! Hugh longed to argue, to rail, to refuse to comply. Yet across the room Triona sat, her somber eyes locked on him, an ineffable air of sadness about her.

"We are settled, then. I bid you good night." With a stiff bow, Galloway turned on his heel and began to encourage the women to don their cloaks.

To Hugh's relief, the innkeeper appeared with the longed-for port. Hugh refused to look Triona's way again as the innkeeper poured a generous amount into a gla.s.s and held it out to Hugh.

Just as Hugh reached for it, the innkeeper noticed that his other guests were bundling back into their cloaks. He turned, the precious port still in his hand. "Leavin' so soon? I was bringin' in a side o' beef and some meat pasties fer the ladies-"

"Pack the pasties in a basket," Galloway said briskly. "We will eat on the way home."

Hugh captured the port from the innkeeper and drank it quickly, hoping the warmth might ease the tight band around his chest.

Lady Galloway, her gaze frosty as she watched Hugh, made an outraged noise as her husband herded her and the others toward the door.

Just as Triona reached the doorway, she paused. "Lord Hugh, I wo-"

"Triona!" Lady Galloway snapped. "I forbid you to speak to that man!"

"So do I," Caitlyn agreed, looking disdainfully at Hugh.

Triona's eyes flashed, but she said quietly, "I will speak to him if I wish to."

"Och, he's a devil, he is," Nurse warned.

"Triona," her uncle said firmly, "we are leaving now." He attempted to lead her from the room but she pulled free, her face a frozen mask of indignation.

Hugh recognized the flash of rebellion, because he felt the exact same way-frustration at the rules and requirements of society, mixed with a desperate desire for freedom. The pity of it was that Triona Hurst was as much caught by this little trap as he was. Fight though she would, there was no way out; her family would make sure of that.

Triona suddenly turned her fine eyes his way. "MacLean, my uncle is not responsible for my actions; I am."

Lord Galloway's mouth was pressed into a displeased line. "Triona, MacLean and I will deal with things. You need not worry your head over matters from this point on."

Hugh could see the irritation plain on her face, and something else. Was it...fear?

Hope flickered in his chest. She feared a union as much as he. If she cried off- But no. Though he'd be free, she would still be ruined, and her entire family would be affected by it. Hugh wasn't capable of walking away from his responsibilities. He was many things, but a coward was not among them.

Triona now stood before him, her spectacled eyes dark with a myriad of emotions. She said in a low voice, "MacLean, don't let my uncle talk you into doing anything foolish."

A quiver of ironic humor tickled his lips. "Apparently I need no encouragement to do something foolish. I managed to do it quite well on my own."

"Triona!" her uncle called.

She grimaced but didn't look away. "We both erred. You were as concerned about your brother as I was about my sister. Neither of us should pay for what was obviously a simple misunderstanding. We can find some other way out of this that won't cost our freedom if we just-"

"No." Hugh was both touched and irritated, but it was time to speak plainly. "I thank you for your generosity, but as much as I wish to accept it, your uncle is correct about the cost of our comedy of errors. You would be ruined, and your family would pay the price as well. That is not acceptable."

Her brows knit. "Surely we can-"

"We can do nothing that society would accept, other than marry." He realized that his hand, clasped about the gla.s.s of port, was shaking faintly from fatigue. If he didn't get to his coach soon, someone would have to carry him.