Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

“Since I came to London,” he said, “I’ve been twisted and spun about like a bobbin winder. I lost the entire whisky shipment, along with every last bottle of Ulaidh Lachlan. I was stabbed and almost blown to smithereens. I gained a new father I’m no’ sure of yet, and a fake father who’s trying to have me murdered. I learned I’m about to acquire a great load of real estate I dinna want, and if I live long enough, a peerage title I already hate. And I learned I’m no’ even Scottish. And more important than any of the rest of it … I’ve fallen in love for the first time in my life.” He gripped the arms of the chair and lowered to his knees with his thighs spread to bracket hers. “I will love you, Merry, until my last breath of life. You understand me well enough to know it would destroy me if the least bit of harm came to you. How could I let you risk yourself for my sake? How could you even ask such a thing?”

“I ask because I love you.” Her lips trembled. “And I want to be your partner.”

“You are.”

“Not if you’re planning to leave me behind the way Joshua did. That’s not what a partner does. He tried to protect me by going away to solve a problem on his own, when we should have faced it together.”

“’Tis no’ the same,” Keir said in outrage.

“It feels the same.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a man protecting the woman he loves.”

“Can’t I protect the man I love? No one could dispute that you’ll be safer with me there.”

“I thunderin’ well dispute it!”

“What if someone enters the house at night while you’re sleeping?”

“I’ll have the dog with me. He’ll let me know. And Ransom’s men will stop an intruder long before he comes in.”

“What if the intruder manages to sneak by them? What could you and Wallace do if he has a weapon?”

“I’ll learn how to shoot one.”

“That’s not something you can learn in an afternoon. You need many, many hours of practice, and even then, there’s an enormous risk of accidents when you’re in a situation filled with that much pressure and uncertainty.” She leaned forward to clasp her hands on either side of his face. “Let me go with you,” she said earnestly. A faint smile tugged at one corner of her lips. “I’ll be the extra rib that protects your heart.”

Keir pulled back abruptly. The motion sent a stab of pain through his ribs, and he swore. Rising to his feet, he sent her a glance of mingled torment and frustration. “You can’t, Merry.”

The hint of a smile had vanished. “Because you doubt my abilities,” she said rather than asked.

Keir shook his head. “Because you are my heart.” He turned and left the room while he was still able.





Chapter 34


KEIR WANDERED AIMLESSLY AROUND the house, brooding. If Merritt were able to recognize what an impossible situation she’d put him in, everything would be so much easier. His refusal to take her to Islay had nothing to do with his respect for her, which was enormous. Her well-being would always take precedence over his, because she was what he valued most. Because of who he was as a man. Because he loved her.

He found himself meandering down the hallway that led to the study, and heard the sound of voices coming from the open door. Without making a conscious decision, he paused at the threshold and glanced inside. Kingston and Westcliff were talking with the comfortable ease of old friends, a tray bearing a brandy decanter and crystal glasses between them. Keir missed sitting at the tavern talking with friends, or lingering with some of the men after work to finish the day with a taste of whisky, or “dramming,” as they called it.

Kingston looked up and smiled as he saw Keir. “Come in, my boy.”

It was disarming to see the change in the duke’s expression, the elegant features softening and warming. And in response, Keir was surprised by a feeling of kinship, and relief, and the expectation of a good conversation. He realized he was starting to like the man’s company.

As he entered the room, he paused in front of Westcliff, knowing something had to be said about his relationship with Merritt. “Sir,” he said, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Earlier … Merritt gave the impression that a certain question had already been asked and answered. But I would no’ do so without first discussing it with you.”

The earl’s expression was difficult to read. “A father’s consent isn’t necessary in the case of a widow marrying for the second time.”

“’Tis necessary to me, milord,” Keir replied. “If you’re of the opinion she’d be ill-served to have me as a husband, ’tis your right to say so, and my obligation to pay attention.”

Westcliff regarded him thoughtfully. “There’s no need to enumerate the obvious challenges you and she are facing. I’d rather ask how you’re planning to handle them.”

Kingston picked up his brandy and stood. “Good God,” he said with amusement, “if it’s turning into that sort of conversation, I’m going to pour the lad a brandy. Take my chair, Keir.”

Keir complied, and sat facing the earl. “I dinna have an actual plan yet,” he admitted. “But I would do everything possible to protect her and take care of her feelings. She would never go wanting. I would listen to her opinions, and treat her as a beloved companion, always. I’ll work very hard, and sacrifice what I must. If she’s no’ happy living on Islay, I’d live somewhere else.”