If You Desire

Chapter Eleven

Never! Never on your life….

With Jane's words running through his mind, Hugh rode for Grosvenor Square in a daze. There'd been too many developments this morning for him to digest. Simply seeing her kissing another man had nearly been his undoing.

And then, after so many years of fighting to stay away from Jane, to be forced to be with her—no, to marry her. He was shocked at how badly part of him wanted Weyland to succeed in persuading her.

Even as Hugh knew he couldn't keep her.

Did I truly just see Jane kissing another man?

When he arrived at the square, Hugh strode inside the MacCarrick family's mansion. They all called this place "the family's," though in truth it now belonged to Ethan. As the oldest son, Ethan had inherited all of the MacCarrick properties, as well as the Scottish earldom of Kavanagh—though he would likely pummel anyone who dared remind him he was a peer.

In the entry hall, Hugh ignored, as usual, his mother's messages to him, lying in the silver tray. He couldn't say he hated the woman, but she'd blamed her sons for their father's death, and that made it damned difficult to want anything to do with her. His brothers felt the same. All her messages to them were unopened as well.

Ethan hadn't banned her from the property, yet. By tacit agreement, she never stayed here when any of her sons were in London, though Hugh would bet she was still bribing the servants for information about them—everyone but Erskine, their butler. The dour-faced man was committed to his job of discouraging any and all visitors, and loyal down to his bones.

Hugh strode directly to the study, his boots drumming across the marble floor. He knew precisely where theLeabhar nan Sùil-radharc, the Book of Fates, would be—still laid out on the long mahogany desk, where Hugh had found Courtland, staring at it almost pleadingly just weeks ago.

As always, Hugh was amazed that such an ancient book could be preserved so well after countless years had passed. Of course, the only marking it had ever accepted was blood.

Long ago, a clan seer had predicted the fates of ten generations of MacCarricks and inscribed them in theLeabhar . The lines within foretold tragedies and triumphs that had all come to pass.

Although Hugh had long since memorized it, he turned to the last page, written to his father…

To the tenth Carrick:

Your lady fair shall bear you three dark sons.

Joy they bring you until they read this tome.

Words before their eyes cut your life's line young.

You die dread knowing cursed men they become, shadowed to walk with death or walk alone.

Not to marry, know love, or bind, their fate;

Your line to die for never seed shall take.

Death and torment to those caught in their wake…

The last two lines were obscured by dried blood that could not be lifted from the page.

Tragedies and triumphs revealed? Hugh exhaled wearily. No triumphs were revealed to the brothers. No, they had sired no bairns among them, had killed their father by reading this very book, and continued to hurt everything they cared for.

Running his forefinger down the prediction on the crisp parchment, he felt his skin grow cold and clammy. There was something innate there, some palpable power in theLeabhar . The last person from outside the family who'd touched it had stared at it in horror and crossed himself.

Hugh turned away in disgust, then made his way to his bedroom. He forced himself to pack, though he wasn't convinced that Weyland could in fact move Jane to this measure, short of blackmail—

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Ethan barked from the doorway. He glared at Hugh, who was dragging clothing from his wardrobe to a leather travel bag.

"Leaving London."

"Withher ?"

"Aye. Weyland's asked me to…wed her and take her away." His tone was defensive.

"No' again!" Ethan's scar was whitening. "We just got Courtland's woman away from him. Now you're running off with yours?"

"And what of you?" Hugh countered, snatching up shirts. "I think you showed more interest in that girl last night than I've ever seen you show another woman."

"Ah, but I merely played with my wee blonde." He rubbed his scar unconsciously. Did he hate it anew after last night? Or had the chit slapped his face? Hugh hoped the latter. "But you and Court are always wanting more."

"I've agreed to wed Jane—temporarily. And only to take her away until you capture Grey and the havoc caused by the list dies down. I've made it clear to Weyland that this marriage will be annulled at that time, and he understood."

Ethan was shaking his head. "You're no' thinking clearly. You took one look at her after all that time away and bloody lost your mind. And the clan calls you the reasonable one?"

"Iam reasonable," he grated, punching shirts into his bag so hard that the stitches in the leather strained.

"Running off with the woman you've been lost for, tomarry her? Temporarily? Aye, the example of reason you are," Ethan sneered. "My God, you lectured Court about this verra thing. Rightly so."

Hugh glanced away. He'd beensmug when he'd lectured Court, smug that he'd had the discipline to stay away from Jane all these years.

"Hugh, how can you ignore what's happened? Court made up his mind to marry Annalía, and within days, a bullet almost splattered her brain across our front doorstep. And then me. Have you forgotten my fiancée? It wasyou who found Sarah's broken body. Would you expose Jane to a fate like that?"

Christ, no. Never."I will no' consummate the marriage. I will no'keep her," he said in a low tone. "It will no' be a marriage in truth. Besides, I'vealready jeopardized her. Grey will seize on her because of me. I know this. Grey will definitely kill her without me to protect her. Imight hurt her."

"Even ill in the head, Grey will be deadly. As much as I hate to say it, he has unmatchable instincts." Ethan caught his gaze. "Why do you no' let me take Jane away?"

The thought made Hugh's blood boil. "Grey will never harm her while I live. Mark me, Ethan. Never."

Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Then you'd better hope I get to him before he gets to her. You think to protect her when you're no' cold about this? Certainly no' cold like Grey is. You're going to get both yourself and the girl killed."

"Damn it, I can take care of her—"

"Andkeep your hands off her at the same time?" Ethan gave him an incredulous expression.

"I have discipline. You ken that I do." Hugh strode to his wardrobe for a few essentials—a pistol as backup to the one he always wore holstered, and another rifle, second to the one he kept in his saddle holster. He also packed a good deal of ammunition for all of the weapons. "And I've stayed away this long, have I no'?"

"I also know you've got years of want stored up. You might seem calm on the outside, but I'll bet inside you're seething with it."

Seething. The perfect word for how he felt. "Does no' matter. She hates me."Especially after this morning. "Hell, she'll probably balk." Though he wondered. Weyland always got what he wanted. But then, so did Jane. Surely Weyland couldn't want him as a son-in-law as much as Jane wanted to have nothing to do with him. "I will no' keep her," he insisted again. "And she will no' want me."

Ethan studied him for long moments. Then he exhaled a resigned breath. "Aye, then. That, I can accept. Even if the old man forces her to wed, the chit will want out at the first opportunity."

Hugh scowled at Ethan's tone. As if he were reciting a fact.

"Is it so bloody inconceivable that she might want me as I want her?"

Ethan simply said, "Aye."

Hugh snatched up his bag, then exited the room to stomp down the stairs.

"Where're you taking her?" Ethan asked, following. "No' to the clan?"

Hugh shook his head. He'd considered taking her to Carrickliffe, but the people there all knew about the curse. At best, they would be wary around Jane, superstitious and treating her as though she were doomed. At worst, they would try to spirit her away from Hugh, seeking to save them both. He would only go there if there was no other alternative. "I'm taking her north to Ros Creag."

"Does Grey know about the lake house?"

"I never told him about it, but I canna be certain whether he does," Hugh answered. "If he hasn't reached England and I only keep us there for a few days—"

"I'm fast, but I'm no' that fast."

As Hugh reached the front door, he said, "Any suggestions among your various hideaways?"

"Grey knows of several, and I canna swear by the rest. You should take her to Court's."

Hugh slowed. He hadn't thought of Court's property, probably because his brother had owned it for so short a time.

"Court said the keep was old, but it's solid and only needs a bit of work," Ethan said.

He'd told Hugh the same, and that it was in the middle ofthousands of acres. "I'll go to Ros Creag, and if I haven't heard anything from you in five days, we'll journey north to Court's."

"Good. I'll alert the staff to your arrival," Ethan said, referring to the skeleton staff that lived just off the property.

"If Grey follows us, I hope to God you'll be following him." Hugh skewered his brother with a look. "Much is in your hands, and you canna afford to get distracted. The sooner you kill Grey, the sooner this marriage is annulled."

"Then doona get settled in," Ethan said with a chilling smile. "And best take care with the marks on your face. You doona want them to scar."

"Go to hell," Hugh bit out, opening the door.

Ethan cursed under his breath, then said, "Wait a minute." He strode off, returning with theLeabhar , and offered it to Hugh. "Take it. It will remind you as nothing else can."

Hugh accepted the weighty book. "And what about you? What if you need it?"

Ethan's face was perfectly cold. "I've no heart to be tempted, remember?"

Hugh narrowed his eyes. "What did you do to the girl last night?"

He smirked, reaching up to rest his hand on top of the door. "Nothing she dinna want me to."

"Quin said she'd been afraid."

Ethan's brows drew together. "No. I dinnascare her." He touched his scar for the second time—something henever did. Either he'd never wanted to remember the injury, or had never wanted to draw attention to the mark. But this morning, he'd been mindful of it for the first time in years. "Goddamn it, I bloody had a mask on."

Hugh didn't think this was a good time to point out that his bearing and demeanor were as disturbing as his face. "Do you know who she is?"

"Was going by Quin's today to find out," Ethan drawled, "but now I find my calendar filled. Did you find out her name from Jane?"

Hugh saw an eagerness in his brother's eyes that gave him pause. Though Hugh didn't have the full details, he knew that Geoffrey Van Rowen was somehow responsible for Ethan's scar. Hugh also knew that the injury to Ethan's face had been deliberately delivered in a manner that ensured it would never heal seamlessly.

In turn, Ethan's revenge had been protracted and ruthless—and not particularly discerning between those in the Van Rowen family who deserved it, and those who didn't.

Hadn't he done enough to them?

Perhaps Ethan would lose interest in her over the coming days. "I know she's a friend of Jane's, so doona hurt that lass, Ethan, or you'll answer to me." He stuffed theLeabhar into his bag.

Ethan's cold expression turned menacing. "You think you can stop me if I feel like amusing myself? Go to hell, Hugh. You're smug about this subject, too," Ethan said. "But if you get Jane killed, you'll find you have a lot in common with me. Brother, you'll end upjust like me ."

Hugh cast him a disgusted look before turning away. As Ethan shut the door behind him, Hugh thought he heard him mutter, "Just doona end up like me…."