The Scottish Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 6)

“Perhaps you’d better not. You know, Sinjun, his lordship is very handsome,” Mary Rose said. “Donnatella very much likes handsome gentlemen.”

“Not this handsome gentleman,” Sinjun said and marched right up to her husband and the little hussy who was clutching at his sleeve, laughing overly much at something Colin had said, something that probably wasn’t all that amusing at all. Still, he was looking down at her like he indeed was the most charming, the wittiest male in the known world.

She said sweetly, “Colin, my dearest love, the love of my life, the man who praises my beauty endlessly. Do you remember how you promised me that we would visit that cave Meggie told us about? The one that is quite hidden, ever so private? The one where we can—well, never mind that. I do not wish to be indelicate. I am quite ready to please you now.” She moved closer until she actually pushed Donnatella away from him. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his mouth, “I have plans for you that will curl your toes.”

“You are transparent, Sinjun,” Colin said, caressing her cheek. “The truth is that you are jealous. No matter the amusement I am currently enjoying, your jealousy still pleases me. A cave, you say? You will curl my toes?”

“Harrumph,” Sinjun said, grabbed his hand and turned to face Donnatella, a sunny smile on her mouth that would, hopefully, offset the murder in her eyes. “Do forgive us, but we are still newlyweds and must hie ourselves off to dark, cozy places. My husband is a demanding gentleman. Good day to you, Miss Vallance.”

“I thought they had several children,” Donnatella said, staring at the now empty doorway. “I shouldn’t mind making love with him. He is a beautiful man. Ah, well. Mary Rose, you are looking ever so well again. Are you ready to come back with me to Vallance Manor?”

“Miss Vallance,” Tysen said easily as he lowered Mary Rose onto a dark-blue brocade settee, “not just yet. You will have to amuse yourself without your cousin’s company.”

“For how much longer, sir?”

“I haven’t yet decided,” Tysen said. “We will see. I will send a message when Mary Rose is ready to return home. You may return home

now.”

Donnatella looked undecided, an expression that Mary Rose had hardly ever seen before on her cousin’s face. Donnatella always knew what she was doing—but not now. She merely nodded to Mary Rose and walked out of the drawing room.

Nothing much was said until Pouder, leaving his post by the front door, walked sedately into the drawing room and cleared his throat. “My lord, Mrs. MacFardle is in a snit. I don’t know what to say to her. Your lordship is required to deal with the situation.”

“Thank you, Pouder, I shall.” Without thinking, Tysen took the old man’s arm and gently steered him back to his chair. It was well padded, a good thing, since Pouder looked to be all bones.

Tysen called out over his shoulder, “Mary Rose, you converse with my daughter when she returns from feeding the geese.”

“I will speak with her as well,” Miles MacNeily said, walking toward them. He gave Tysen a small salute and smiled at the sight of Pouder, whose head had already fallen forward to his chest.

Tysen tracked down Mrs. MacFardle in the vast Kildrummy kitchen. With no preamble, he said in a calm, very cool voice, “Mary Rose is lying on a settee in the drawing room. She is doubtless hungry. If you are not carrying a silver tray loaded with delicious cakes and nicely hot tea to her in the next ten minutes, you will leave Kildrummy Castle. If you are not smiling and respectful to Mary Rose when you deliver that tray to the drawing room, you will also leave in the next ten minutes. Do you quite understand me, Mrs. MacFardle?”

“But she is a bastard, my lord! She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong anywhere where there are respectable people. Folk hereabout will believe you too democratic, too lax in your morals—er, no, that isn’t quite right, is it? Perhaps, because you are a vicar, you have to continually watch yourself not to care too deeply about people who don’t deserve it. Yes, it is a matter of having too much kindness, my lord. It isn’t what Lord Barthwick should do. Mary Rose mustn’t sleep in your bed. If she is still too ill to return home, then she may sleep in the servants’ quarters, up just one short flight of stairs to the third floor. There is this quite charming room that—”

Tysen felt waves of anger washing through him, and it appalled him, this emotional reaction that came from deep within him, destroying his control. “You have said quite enough, Mrs. MacFardle. Mary Rose Fordyce has agreed to marry me.”

Her mouth gaped open. She looked utterly horrified.

“Either you will accept her as your mistress, as Lady Barthwick of Kildrummy Castle, and treat her with respect, or you will leave, in the next minute, actually. The decision is yours. Now, we await tea in the drawing room. Ten minutes, Mrs. MacFardle, no longer.” He said not another word, not even when he heard her suck in her breath behind him.

He turned at the doorway and said over his shoulder, “You are the first person to hear our news. It might be a very polite thing if you were to congratulate me on my good fortune.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. MacFardle. “Change of this nature is unwelcome. I knew that an Englishman would bring disaster. However, congratulations, my lord.”

He had forgotten about Mrs. Griffin. When he walked into the drawing room, she was sitting in a deep, faded chair that she’d had Mr. Griffin pull over to within a foot from where Mary Rose sat on the settee. She was tapping her foot, lightly tapping her cane on the carpet at her feet as she said in a loud voice, “I have had quite enough of this, Mary Rose. I have decided that I will take you to Edinburgh with Mr. Griffin and me.”

“Mary Rose has agreed to marry me, Mrs. Griffin.”

Meggie jumped to her feet. “Papa, really? Oh, this is wonderful! Mary Rose, you will really marry Papa? You will live with us?” She dashed across the drawing room, rubbing the bread crumbs on her skirts, and dropped to the floor at Mary Rose’s feet and hugged her knees. “I hadn’t really expected this to happen, but it is ever so nice. We will all have such fun, you will see. Oh, I am so very happy.”

“Child, you will hold your tongue now. You should be in the nursery or sitting quietly reading sermons, or whatever it is that children—”

Tysen was grinning from ear to ear, he just couldn’t help it. “Mrs. Griffin, my daughter needs to get acquainted with her future mother. Now, tea is to arrive shortly. Pouder, what is it?”

The ancient old man was leaning against the doorframe, grinning widely, showing each of his remaining teeth. He was nearly wheezing as he said, “Congratulations, my lord. Oh, this is a miraculous thing! I am needed now more than ever. I am learning to be a varlet. Perhaps Mary Rose will also teach me to be her maid.”

Mrs. Griffin continued, as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “Mary Rose, we will leave in thirty minutes, right after we have had some of Mrs. MacFardle’s tea. It is a great imposition, but I suppose that it must be done. You may be my companion, my maid, perhaps you can even set the fires in the mornings. I will contrive to pay you a bit, just enough for the occasional gewgaw. Now, get up, Mary Rose, and put on your clothes. This is—”

Tysen said then, “Meggie, I wish you to go outside and see that your geese have eaten enough. No, don’t argue with me, just go.” No one said another word until Meggie, her step slow, finally was gone from the drawing room. As for Miles MacNeily, he had left to help Pouder back to his chair. Only the three of them were left. He wished that Mary Rose was safely hidden away, but she wasn’t.