Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)
“No, he does not.”
She waited. Clearly he wished to make some revelation, but she decided to make him do so on his own.
“He was married, you know,” confided Thayer in a low voice. “Though it’s all kept rather hush-hush.”
Married? Alec was married?
“It wasn’t for long. His wife died in a carriage accident fleeing a dreadfully unhappy situation—or at least that is the story,” he went on. “There are rumors that the truth is even more ugly.”
A slow, painful swallow loosened her throat just enough to allow a shallow whisper. “Indeed?” she said, unable to summon any other response. Her mind was still reeling.
He nodded. “It was a scandal, though his title and his family connections allowed him to cover up the sordid details. The poor girl was English, and had few friends in Scotland to defend her from his cruelty.”
The implied accusation speared Caro into finding her voice. “I—I can’t believe Lord Strathcona is such a monster as that.”
“Which of course does you credit, Miss Caro.” Thayer blew out a mournful sigh. “Alec McClellan is a man well versed in disguising his true persona with a multitude of… layers.”
Left unspoken, but resonating in the still air loud and clear was the word “lies.”
“I wouldn’t say anything, save for the fact that I have noticed him paying attention to you,” continued Thayer. “So I feel beholden to offer a warning to be on your guard. He has secret vices.”
Which include devouring innocent young ladies for breakfast, along with a plate of kippered herrings?
Despite the sardonic quip that jumped to mind, Caro felt as if a huge lead weight had settled in her stomach. Much as she found it nigh on impossible to imagine Alec as a conniving dastard, Thayer’s earlier question echoed uncomfortably inside her head.
How well did she really know him?
Thayer was right about one thing—Alec kept himself shrouded in many layers. And for the most part, much of his portrait had been painted by the brush of her own imagination.
A sound of dismay must have leaked from her lips, for he gave her a sympathetic look. “I am sorry to upset you,” he responded softly. “It’s shocking, I know.” A pause. “And to be truthful, that’s not the worst of it.”
She stared at him blankly, still stunned by the initial revelation.
“There is a reason I am here in Bath. It is feared that McClellan—that is, Strathcona—may be up to no good here in England, and I have been asked to keep an eye on the situation.” He darted a quick look around. “I cannot say any more than that on the situation, save to stress that you would be wise to keep your distance from the baron.”
Truth and lies.
Caro suddenly felt a little light-headed. Her thoughts were spinning in dizzying circles, tangling light and shadows into a whirling dervish blur of light and dark.
“I can see that you would prefer to forego our upcoming dance.” Thayer gave a swift, solicitous squeeze to her hand. “You look a little shaken. May I fetch you a glass of punch?”
“N-no, thank you,” she replied. “If you don’t mind, I would simply prefer a few moments alone.”
“Of course.” He stepped back with an apologetic shrug. “I truly regret causing you such distress. But gentlemanly scruples demanded that I warn you, before it was too late.”
She managed a curt nod, which thankfully he took as a signal to withdraw without further ado.
Alec had been married, and his wife was now dead.
Caro stared unseeing at the fluttering palm fronds. A small voice in her head said there was no earthly reason why he would have told her such intimate details of his life. Why would he? And yet, a louder shout
—a chorus of bruised feelings—piped up in protest.
Damnation! He had spoken of trust, of friendship. And he had kissed her, with a passion that seemed to promise that the connection between them was very real.
Caro clasped her hands together in a fist and forced herself to breath. Her lungs seemed to be having trouble moving in and out on their own.
He should have shared such a fact…