Married By May

both knew it.
“Because my letter will travel a lot faster than you will, Ewan. And if you don’t see this through, by the time you arrive in Scotland, your parents will be out on their arses. Penniless and without a roof over their heads. I have connections in Scotland who will see to their removal, and they aren’t exactly known for their gentle manner.”
Ewan clenched his jaw against every insult he wanted to spew at the spineless little weasel in front of him.
But he couldn’t lose his cool and put a hand on his cousin. There was too much at stake.
“I don’t care,” he lied, refusing to let Edmund provoke him. “My father is a man of sense. He will be fine until I get there.”
Edmund merely laughed.
“You would leave your sick father and your poor, stricken mother to fend for themselves until you get there? I don’t think so. With all that integrity and sense of obligation you possess?”
Ewan fisted his hands, clenching them so he wouldn’t grab his cousin and bloody his damned nose for him.
“No, you’ll see this through. Because I won’t be giving you a couple of weeks to do anything. Why settle for you repaying what the old man owes, when I can get my hands on all that lovely Fortescue coin?”
Ewan forced himself to take a calming breath. He wouldn’t let it show on the outside, but he felt utterly helpless.
For his cousin was right. Edmund could do untold damage to his parents before Ewan even managed to cross the border.
Yet, he couldn’t, wouldn’t betray Beatrice in such an unforgiveable way.
His only option was to try to reason with Edmund. To appeal to his good side, if he could find one.
“Edmund, you know in less than a year I will have more than enough to pay back my father’s debts. What’s more – I’ll – I’ll hand over his estate when he dies. He can name you as his heir.”
It almost killed Ewan to make such an offer. Though he’d spent the last few years in India, Scotland was his home. He’d always assumed he would return to the house he grew up in, spent a happy youth in, successful and ready to expand the farmlands, improve the house, build his empire.
To hand it off to the mercenary Edmund, to see his father’s legacy be destroyed by greed and vice. It would hurt like the devil.
But hurting Beatrice would kill him.
So, there was no choice in the matter.
His offer was met with silence as Edmund eyed him speculatively.
Ewan could almost hear the cogs turning in his cousin’s drunken head.
“That’s quite an offer, Ewan. Even a desperate one.”
Ewan merely waited stone-faced for his answer.
It was quite an offer. One Edmund would be mad to pass up.
“It makes me wonder why you’re making it now.”
He sauntered closer to Ewan and stared into his eyes, as though he would find the reason within their depths.
Ewan remained stoic.
“A renewed attack of conscience, perhaps?” Edmund was prodding and prodding, but Ewan would not give him the satisfaction of breaking.
He wanted nothing more than to pound his fist into Edmund’s face, but he couldn’t risk angering Edmund and have him call in his father’s debt.
“Not got the ballocks to see this through, Ewan?” Edmund continued with a smirk. “Or—” His eyes narrowed suddenly. “Or can it be that the chit’s gotten under your skin?”
Ewan clenched his jaw, holding onto his temper by the merest of threads.
Edmund’s laugh grated on his last nerve.
“That can’t be it. That plain little bore wouldn’t be worth giving up a penny for, let alone –“
Edmund’s insult was cut short by Ewan’s fist slamming into his face.
He hit the floor in an ungainly lump as blood spurted from his nose.
“You’ve broken my damned nose,” he screamed as he cupped the wound.
But Ewan was past caring. Edmund’s cruel words about Beatrice had snapped the last vestige of control over his temper, and he took immense pleasure in the feel of Edmund’s bones cracking beneath his fist.
Still caught up in the red mist of his fury, Ewan reached down and dragged Edmund back to his feet.
“Don’t ever speak about her like that again,” he growled. “I won’t do this to her. Not now. Not ever.”
The men glared at each other before Edmund dropped his hand. His face was a mess, covered in blood and already swelling.
And yet, he smiled.
“Oh, Ewan, what have you done?” he mocked. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen for the girl?”
Ewan released his grip on Edmund, sending the smaller man staggering back.
“Try to look at the positives,” Edmund continued while Ewan’s heart thumped painfully. “This will only help make your performance more believable.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ewan growled.
“Let me make it very clear,” Edmund bit out. “If you don’t see this thing through, I’ll find someone else who’ll oblige. There are plenty of men who would enjoy the chance to lift a skirt, no matter whose. Not exactly the type who’d be welcomed at polite gatherings, but I'm sure we could arrange a trip down an alleyway of some sort.”
Ewan’s temper roiled at Edmund’s vile words, but he wasn’t finished.
“I’d do it myself,” he continued, rousing the beast of anger inside Ewan once more. “But she won’t go near me, and her interfering bag of a mother is far too watchful. Not to mention that overprotective cousin of hers. Only when she’s completely ruined with no other options will she consider me. Her snobbish mother would rather see her daughter married to a baron of – questionable morals, let’s say – than single. But you. Oh, they like you.”
Ewan felt sick at Edmund’s crass words and lunged for him again, but Edmund ducked out of the way.
“But if I am forced to hire in some help, I’ll be sure to tell the lady all about your involvement first, of course,” he continued. “So, what’s it to be? Either you can pretend to ruin her, or I can get someone to