The Highlander's English Bride (The Lairds Most Likely 6) - Page 10

Oh, dear Lord. What was the point of going over the finer points of that shambles? "It’s too late for an apology."

"Yes, it is. Nonetheless, I apologize unreservedly. I wronged you, Emily."

Surprised, she met his eyes. He still looked somber and troubled. And damn him, far too handsome for his own good. Or hers.

His ready shouldering of the blame forced her to a grudging confession. "It wasn’t all your fault. I knew better than to go outside with you."

Grim humor turned down that expressive mouth. "When I build up a head of steam, I’m hard to gainsay."

That was something else she liked about Hamish – once his temper subsided, he was willing to own up to being in the wrong. Even in Greenwich, after he checked the offending calculation, he’d admitted his mistake. But by then, faulty mathematics had been the least of their problems.

Her belligerence became more and more difficult to maintain. She sighed and despite everything, the taut, high line of her shoulders relaxed. "You are. And we were unlucky, too. I wanted to throttle that blasted henwit Matilda Conley."

"Bad luck was only an issue because of my bad judgment."

She gestured for him to sit, accepting that she wasn’t going to throw him out. Raising her chin, she injected false cheerfulness into her tone. "It will all blow over."

Hamish didn’t shift from where he stood. "No. I don’t think it will."

Nor did she. Not really.

Feeling cornered, she backed away and curled one hand over the back of the chair she’d been sitting in. "We didn’t do anything wrong."

No trace of his usual smile lit the deep blue eyes he leveled on her. Nor did he sit down, which meant he still loomed over her like a mighty cliffside. "The world sees it differently."

She sliced the air with a dismissive hand. "I’m a spinster lady past marriageable age and up until this point, I’ve had a spotless reputation. Outside the scientific community, nobody even knows I’m alive."

She hid a wince as more of that dratted compassion softened his gaze. Hamish Douglas would not feel sorry for her. She would not permit him to.

"The scientific community includes many of society’s darlings. Only the great and the good have the money to dabble in arcane matters like the discovery of comets."

A realization struck her, and not a particularly pleasant one at that. "You’re worried for your own reputation."

He didn’t even flinch. "I am indeed. I hope one day to be Astronomer Royal. At the very least, I plan to spend the rest of my life working with the men who witnessed our downfall."

She wanted to object to his use of the word "men," but they both knew how few women carved out a scientific career. Influence in London’s intellectual circles was a masculine prerogative.

"I’m sorry your ambition has suffered a minor setback," she said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Hardly minor. A man with a dishonored name is unlikely to reach the peak of acclaim. Don’t mistake me. I also care about the damage to your name. These things are always worse for the lady, however much I wish that wasn’t the case. But no

r am I blind to the harm all this talk will do to my hopes."

Emily hid another wince. She felt small for mocking him.

As a woman, she’d always be an outsider in the scientific community, however clever she was. Hamish had started with a disadvantage that was almost as fatal. He was Scottish, and he’d arrived in London with no connections in the world he aspired to dominate. But because he was a man and because he had an exceptional brain, he’d made his way so successfully that when he spoke of becoming Astronomer Royal, it didn’t sound like hubris.

"I’m sure they’ll forgive you in time. You just need to keep your nose clean from here on in."

With visible regret, he shook his head. "They’ll forgive me after I make amends for my sins."

She frowned. "Are you going away until it all dies down?"

"That would be something."

"So you’re here to say goodbye to Papa?" Both of them knew that if Hamish went into extended exile, Sir John Baylor wouldn’t live to see his return.

She felt a pang at the idea of him going. Which was mad when he’d caused her so much trouble.

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