Christmas Wore Plaid by E. Elizabeth Watson

Author:E. Elizabeth Watson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2019-01-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Brady folded his arms across his chest and watched Emerson make a slow circle around the barren chamber, as if she were an interested buyer rather than a childhood love. He wondered what had caused the shift in her expression. His mind reeled at the letters. True, he was glad that Corbin had taken care of her when he knew he would have only caused her hardship, but he could never let her know how much it stung to have been labeled so unworthy by her uncle, and manipulated to boot. Emerson had felt heartache, thinking he’d forgotten her when in fact, he’d bled his love for her onto those countless pages, and she’d been denied ever knowing. Anger sparked within him, knowing how she’d been hurt.

She made a full circle around the parlor, then returned to his side. “Have you thought about refurbishing your manor and taking in boarders?”

“Ah, a boarding house. That would bring the cream of society to my lands, wouldn’t it?” he jested.

She shook her head. “No, rather, a holiday venue for those with the means to travel somewhere rustic. You have the space, and you could charge a decent penny, quite easily turn a profit and employ your tenants on your earnings.” She looked around again at the cobwebs clinging to the corners and chipping plaster, as if all she saw were gilded sconces and ornate friezes. “I admit, the wealthier folk in England speak of Scotland like some exotic novelty and often come north to visit.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, Brady conceded, and he swallowed down the anger he felt at her uncle, now deceased. Her Aunt Bess had been right. Emerson should have been a barrister, or at least a businessman, he deduced, considering her keen mind. He could see the millstone grinding her thoughts into clarity. But where would he get the capital to invest in such an endeavor as refurbishing his estate?

“It takes coin to make coin, lass. I’m making do. As long as I can keep from evicting anyone.”

She faced him, her smile apprehensive, and she was close enough again that he could smell her perfume. Lavender. Intoxicating. He hadn’t paid close attention when he’d carried her in, for he’d been too worried, nor had he paid attention as his heart broke all over again while reading the letters and squeezing her hand. But he breathed it in deeply now.

“But…but I have money,” she said. “And this would be a worthy investment—”

“Absolutely no.” He sliced the air with his hand, his brow hardening. He turned away with his hands perched on his hips. Be damned, but the last thing I want is her pity thrown at me in the form of a stack of notes.

“Why not?” she asked, but he couldn’t fathom an immediate response.

The humiliation of taking her money would be enough to do in a proud man, and even though he was little more than a titled pauper, he certainly had MacInnes pride.

“What kind of a man would I be if I took a lady’s charity?” he finally asked, glancing sidelong at her.

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