My Scottish Lord by Anne Shaw

Author:Anne Shaw
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, mm, mm romance, gay romance, historical gay romance, historical romance, Victorian Romance, Victorian Historical Romance, Scottish Romance
Publisher: Anne Shaw
Published: 2021-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

MR. CLAYTON LUCAS

Duff’s nails clicked on the wooden floor at the lodge and he plopped down near the blazing hearth, head resting on his paws. I squatted in front of the trunk containing my design samples. The constant throb of my injuries continued to haunt me. No matter how much pain I was in, I could no longer sit idle with nothing to occupy me but my grief. Evie’s visit had revitalized me. I had my much of memory back, which proved a great relief. Granted, all of my recollections were not joyful. I was still troubled by the loss of my father and the horrible words he had shouted at me before he succumbed to his death.

The logs in the grate popped, the heat from the fire taking the chill off the room. I removed the wallpaper samples from the trunk. Ryder had placed them in the study where a long, rectangular table ran the width of the room. From the scattered pencils and paper scrolls littering the top, he was working here until I had showed up, unannounced. I had been running away from my pain and toward a distraction. Never in a lifetime had I imagined I would be thrown off a ferry and would be nursed by Lord Angus Ryder, a man I’d admired way before I met him.

Out of the ashes, came some good. There was nothing I could do—or could have done—to change my father’s opinion of me. His death ended a sentimental episode in my life. My brother had been his usual staid self, never showing any greater emotion than piousness. My familial obligation had ended and I was free to follow where my passions led me.

After I started decorating Wellborn’s London home, I was commissioned by a duchess to bedeck her mansion. Society doors had opened to me and my services were sought after. It had been my dream from a young age to take London by storm and I had gained relative success.

Duff’s head shot up and he barked several times. I stiffened, my hand moving to the gun lying on the floor by the trunk. Hours had passed since Ryder and Evie had left. I prayed it was only Ryder returning.

The dog’s tail began to wag, his entire back end in movement. I turned my head in time to see Ryder enter. My stomach flip-flopped at his smile of greeting. “You are back. I trust you got my note,” I said.

“Yes, I did.” He stood before the fire, palms out. Duff leaned against his side and stared at his master with adoration.

“Did Evie get off all right?” I had debated earlier if I wished to travel to the village with them but decided against it. No matter how determined my mind was, the flesh was weak. In more ways than one.

“Yes. I escorted her on board. I intended to wait until she set sail. She bade me come back here.” He turned on his heel and scratched Duff behind the ear.

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