Highland Heiress by Margaret Moore Page B

that he was with another woman that very same night.”
    Unfortunately, Gordon could easily believe that Robbie had indeed sought either comfort or oblivion in the arms of a woman as soon as possible. Nevertheless, if he’d done so that same night, Robbie should have told him that, because she was right to think it would make his case weaker.
    â€œSo, he’s not been completely honest with you, either,” she observed.
    Somewhere between Edinburgh and Dunbrachie he’d obviously lost the ability to maintain an attorney’s dispassionate mask, at least when speaking to Lady Moira MacMurdaugh.
    He also seemed to be taking everything Lady Moira said at face value, which he really ought not to do. She did, after all, have a reason to discredit his friend. “How do you know this?”
    â€œMy father had it from the innkeeper where Sir Robert met the woman.”
    â€œIn other words,” he began, determined to do his best for Robbie as well as remain as cool and composed as she and reveal nothing more of his feelings, “your source is gossip.”
    â€œDo you really think my father would have told me that if it wasn’t true?”
    â€œI have no idea what your father might say,” Gordon replied, “and he is hardly in a neutral position. As for whether or not I was informed of Sir Robert’s activities on the night in question, if a man seeks solace with a woman, he need not confide that to a friend, or his lawyer, or anyone. Nor does that mean his pain is any the less.”
    â€œNevertheless it suggests that he was consolable, and if so, the pain of our broken engagement was not so severe that he should receive five thousand pounds in reparation. I would think five hundred would be more than sufficient,” she finished, her eyes shining with what looked like a combination of delight and excitement, as if this was some sort of competition she was determined to win. In a way, of course, it was—but while he’d seen that reaction from some lawyers and merchants in similar circumstances, he’d never encountered it in a woman before.
    Another example, should he require one, of what made this particular woman so different. And so fascinating.
    And why he had to fight to keep his mind on the business at hand, as well as remembering he represented Robbie, not her.
    â€œThere is also the matter of his wounded pride,” he pointed out. “He may think settling for such a small sum is another wound.”
    â€œI agree Robbie has a great deal of pride—much more than he deserves, so I don’t intend to reward him for it.”
    â€œWhether you think his pride is justified or not, itis something that must be taken into account. He is a titled man, after all. I doubt he’ll settle for less than four thousand.”
    â€œPerhaps he should remember his pride and his title the next time he starts drinking,” she countered.
    Gordon couldn’t disagree, so he turned the subject back to the financial. “If you offer too small a sum, he may consider that as much of an insult as breaking your engagement,” he warned.
    â€œI will not pay more than eight hundred pounds, and I consider that a gift.”
    Robbie would surely consider that a pittance, take umbrage, lose his temper and drink even more. “Eight hundred pounds will surely not be enough. Indeed, it may make him think you aren’t taking this suit seriously.”
    â€œI assure you, I do. It’s Sir Robert I don’t take seriously.”
    â€œYou should, my lady. He’s very determined in this matter. I think you should offer at least three thousand.”
    â€œI am determined, too, Mr. McHeath—determined that he won’t get more than a thousand pounds, and that’s a thousand pounds more than he should. He should be delighted I’m willing to consider paying him anything at all.”
    â€œMy lady, I fear that won’t be enough to satisfy