Free Return to Clan Sinclair by Karen Ranney Page A

was. He had nothing to lose. It was easy to take a bet and double it, be it railroads or silver. His wealth had diversified since he’d taken advantage of America’s more egalitarian society. Now he was welcomed wherever he went simply because he was wealthy, not because his father had a title.
    In that, he and Macrath Sinclair were alike.
    Sinclair’s father had been a newspaperman, living close to the edge of penury all his days. While his father had been a chimney sweep, asking no more from life than to send lads up into tiny smoke-­filled vertical coffins.
    He’d wanted more from the beginning. Now he had it: a private car, a secretary who doubled as a bodyguard, a valet to ensure he was well dressed, a cook who traveled with him. His cabin aboard ship had been a large one and he’d eaten at the captain’s table.
    No one knew he’d once been a servant in London. Most of his acquaintances thought there was some mystery about him because he’d let drop certain facts they could gather up together in a loosely constructed story of their own making. He might have been the son of an earl or a duke’s progeny. Perhaps he was the illegitimate product of a royal’s indiscretion.
    All his early self-­taught lessons on deportment had served him well. He had the manners and the bearing to be anyone he wished.
    Even someone Virginia would admire.
    He couldn’t forget her.
    The one woman he’d wanted, the only one to reject him. All these years, she’d stayed in his mind like a loadstone, an impetus, a motivation to be more than he ever dreamed of being. He would explain it all to her. Virginia, who knew his beginnings, who knew who he really was, would understand better than anyone how far he’d come.
    He wanted her. He longed for her. Even when he bedded another woman, hers was the face he saw.
    Over the years, his hair had silvered, giving him a distinguished appearance. He was still a young man, with a young man’s needs and wants and ardor. He would prove that to her, too.
    This time, no one would know he had anything to do with Virginia’s disappearance. To that end, he’d interviewed ten likely candidates in Inverness. Three of them were more interested in their payment then their task. Three were so dumb that even after explaining what he wanted done, they still didn’t understand. Three were too intelligent, so much so he hadn’t even gone into what the task was, for fear they’d report him to the authorities. The last had proven to be a worthy surrogate with a giant’s build.
    The man would go to Drumvagen and fetch Virginia for him. He’d given the man a detailed drawing of Drumvagen, including the grotto where he could gain admittance to the house. Before leaving Scotland he’d make sure the man went back to Inverness. There was no reason for him to remain in the vicinity or to tell anyone about the nature of his employment.
    The other servants—­valet, cook, and secretary—­knew nothing of the reason for his trip to Scotland, and he intended to keep them ignorant.
    He wasn’t going to be foolish like he’d been in the past. He wasn’t going to concentrate on getting Virginia out of Scotland as much as convincing her of his sincere feelings. Last time, he’d moved too swiftly and scared her. This time, she would know how much he loved her before they ever set sail again.
    But first he would take care, seduce her with gentleness, convince her with reason. He would demonstrate to her just how much she meant to him and how unforgettable she’d been all these years.
    He wasn’t going to resort to force like he had in the past. He was going to take Virginia to his house and convince her, by any means necessary, they’d wasted a decade of their lives. But it wasn’t too late. They could still find happiness together. All she had to do was to give him a chance to prove it. He would bring