The Scottish Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 6)

“Yes.”

“Leo,” Tysen said, squeezing the boy’s arms, “Mary Rose is my wife and your new mother.”

Leo became very still. Slowly, he turned and stared at her with new eyes, eyes that didn’t appreciate what they were seeing. A mother? He scratched his head. “Papa, I haven’t had a mother for years. I don’t think we really have use for one. No, Papa, I don’t need a mother. None of us does. Besides, how can she be my mother when I don’t even know her?”

“Shut your trap, Leo!” It was Meggie, and she was scurrying around the side of the vicarage. She came to a stop not six inches from her brother’s nose. “I didn’t know you were here or I never would have let Mary Rose leave me and wander about by herself. Listen to me, codbrain, I know her, and I will te

ll you right now that she is exactly what we want.” She added, her voice quite vicious, “Don’t even think about torturing her, Leo, or I will hurt you very badly.”

“Well, that’s a good start,” Mary Rose said, laughing. She sounded more dazed than amused, and Tysen couldn’t blame her. He said to Leo, “I’ll hurt you too, Leo. Just get to know her. I think you’ll find she’s very nice. Now, is Max back yet from his lessons with Mr. Harbottle?”

Leo, sticking very close to his father, looked up at him, frowning, and said slowly, “That was funny, Papa. Are you all right?”

“Why, yes, of course.”

“Well, Max is with Mr. Pritchart. I believe they are arguing a theological point, in Latin, naturally.” Leo said to Mary Rose, “Mr. Pritchart is Papa’s curate. He’s the one who takes us back to Northcliffe Hall after Max’s lessons. Mr. Pritchart is even older than Papa but he doesn’t yet have a wife. Maybe you could marry him instead of Papa.”

“Once married,” Tysen said, “it’s forever. Mr. Pritchart will have to find his own wife.”

“Can you argue in Latin?” Leo said to Mary Rose. He was now plastered against Tysen’s side.

“I don’t believe I have ever enjoyed an occasion where this was possible,” Mary Rose said. “Perhaps Max will show me how it’s done.”

“Your hair’s red,” Leo said.

“Leo,” Meggie said, her eyes narrowed, “you will carefully guard what comes out of your mouth. It’s a pity you didn’t receive my letter telling you all about Mary Rose. You could have practiced holding your tongue.”

“I didn’t say anything vicious,” Leo said.

“Yes,” Mary Rose said, “very red. Do you like red hair, Leo?”

“My aunt Alex has red hair. Yours is even redder. Your hair is all thick and curly just like hers. My uncle Douglas—he’s Papa’s brother and the earl—evidently he really likes red hair. He’s always playing with Aunt Alex’s hair. I saw him rub her hair against his face once and then he licked it. I thought that was revolting.”

Mary Rose very nearly burst into laughter, but held herself together in time. What had she expected? Little boys who would take one look at her and vow to love her to distraction?

She blinked at her husband, a child on either side of him now, facing her, and she was standing there, alone, beside the vicarage that was now where she would live forever.

“Papa’s different,” Leo said slowly, eyeing him again. “He’s funny and he hasn’t stopped smiling. He didn’t even say anything when I talked about the three shilling wager with Max.”

“Papa’s just the same,” Meggie said. “Just shut up, Leo.” She frowned at her brother until she was sure he would remain quiet. Then she did a little skip over to Mary Rose, hugged her, and said, “What do you think of your new home? Isn’t it lovely? All this peach brick and the ivy, so much ivy. Papa’s said he fears the ivy will creep into his bed and wrap him up and then Monroe and Ellis won’t be able to knead him. But it’s pretty inside, and large enough for all of us, you’ll see, Mary Rose. Well, to be honest, the drawing room is very dark, but I expect that you can order all the draperies burned.”

“There is a lot of ivy,” Mary Rose said. “It is lovely. Should I really burn the draperies?”

“Actually, yes,” Tysen said. “I’ve just never thought to do it.”

“That’s because you’re a gentleman, Papa, and gentlemen aren’t capable of seeing things in their homes that need to be done.”

Tysen grinned down at his daughter. “I swear to you, Meggie, I will look at things differently now that Mary Rose is here. Let’s go inside,” he added to Mary Rose, taking her hand. “You need to meet Mrs. Priddie, she’s our cook and housekeeper. We have two maids who come in daily, Belinda and Tootsie, and Marigold, the tweeny. There is Malcolm who sees to the stables, you already met him.” He paused a moment, then said on a smile, “I trust you will find Mrs. Priddie more acceptable than Mrs. MacFardle.”

“Oh, there’s also Monroe and Ellis,” Meggie said. “They love Papa. And since you sleep with Papa so you can talk all night, Monroe and Ellis will probably be right there too, climbing all over you and purring.”

“Ellis just spit up a big fur ball,” Leo said. “Mrs. Priddie yelled at him and tried to whack him with the broom, but he was too fast for her.”

“Ellis,” Tysen said, and he smiled at her, thinking that smiling was something very natural now, “undoubtedly has racing blood. He’s long and lean and so fast he’s sometimes a blur.”

“But he’s lazy most of the time,” Leo said. “I try to get him to play with a ball and he puts up his tail and walks away. Papa, you’re still smiling.”

“Leave Papa alone, Leo,” Meggie said. “Now, the reason Ellis leaves is because you’re boring. Accustom yourself to it.”