His Rebellious Lass (Scottish Hearts 1)

She wanted more than anything to throw herself into his arms and cry, demand that he forbid her to leave. Well, not forbid, that would only annoy her. But at least try to discourage her from leaving. But he stood straight as a flagpole and opened the door for her.

Well, then.

“Bridget…”

She stopped with her foot on the bottom step, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He bent and kissed her on the cheek and stepped back as the door closed. He clasped his hands behind him as the carriage rolled away. She swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks and slowly drew the window curtain.

This was a mistake. She shouldn’t have done something so rash and foolish. Perhaps if he’d shown some inclination to stop her…but he’d just let her go. However, now that she had, and he seemed to be quite comfortable with her decision, there was nothing to be done except follow through. At least she would have her work with the women to keep her busy and not be thinking about the husband she loved with her whole body and soul, who was willing to let her go.

…

Cam watched the carriage roll away with a heavy heart and the urge to chase it down the streets of Mayfair like some loon. Bridget had not come down for breakfast, and the first time he’d seen her all day was when she’d walked down the stairs and out of his life.

What the hell was he doing? He should have insisted she stay. They should have at least talked it over, but he’d been so surprised and then hurt that she’d left their bed to announce she was leaving him right after he’d had the best sexual experience in his life. His stubborn side had kicked in, and he’d spent the night tossing and turning in his bed, not really believing she would leave him.

As the carriage disappeared into the mist, he turned and made his way back to the house.

Even though he’d lived alone all his adult life, and Bridget had spent only one night here, the house now seemed empty. Even when Bridget had been living in his sister’s house, she had seemed near. He could call upon her mostly any time he wanted and escort her to the theater, the museums, on rides in the park, dinner parties, and soirees.

Rather than wallow in self-pity, he grabbed his umbrella and took a walk to White’s. The carriage would be tied up for a while with Bridget’s move, and he needed the exercise afforded by walking the few miles to the club.

He shook out his umbrella and handed it and his hat and greatcoat to the man at the door. Pleased to see Mr. Harris, third son of the Earl of Grisham and the physician Cam had spoken with about abused women, he headed in his direction. Harris was a pleasant man, happily married with several children, and someone with whom Cam would enjoy sharing a drink or two.

Although they had been in school together, they had never really socialized until Mr. Harris stood for Parliament’s House of Commons and had worked with Cam on his veterans’ bill.

“Well, if it isn’t the new bridegroom. Word has quickly traveled through London that you married yesterday.”

“Yes. Lady Bridget MacDuff.”

“Your ward?”

“Yes.”

Harris raised his coffee cup and grinned. “Felicitations. One would think you had better things to do than spend time with this sorry lot.”

Cam shrugged and settled into the seat across from Harris.

The physician placed his coffee cup in the saucer. “What’s wrong?”

Cam waved to the footman to bring him a cup. “Why do you think something is wrong?”

“Perhaps the arrival of the new husband the afternoon after his wedding, and in not so great a mood.” Harris studied him carefully.

Taking the cup of coffee from the footman, Cam said, “She left me.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

Cam stiffened. “I can’t imagine saying that any other way to clarify the statement. Lady Campbell rose this morning, ordered the carriage, packed up her belongings, and left.”

“Left for where?” the physician asked, not unkindly.

“She and I have been working on a project to provide a safe place for women who are being abused. I believe I spoke with you about it before.”

Harris nodded. “A wonderful endeavor.”

“Purchasing the house was a requirement from my wife before she would consent to be married. She decided to move there.”