by Fiona Faris
Georgiana’s brow furrowed as she pondered her options. “Well, yes, I think I shall wear the burnished copper gown.”
“Yes, that is a good choice. It brings out your skin tone in the most becoming way. His lordship will not be able to take his eyes off you.”
The girls' eyes met in the mirror. “Have you seen him? What does he look like?”
Misty shrugged. “I have no idea. He was already in the parlor by the time Forbes came to notify us. And you know him, he’s so taciturn, his descriptions are of no use. He did say that the man looks like a mushroom. But I think he's just notoriously picksome.”
“As he usually is…” Georgiana snorted in amusement.
“Yes, quite. I do declare that he’s even worse than their Grace’s.”
“Ah, the joys of being a butler.”
“Indeed.” They grinned at each other in the mirror before Misty went to fetch the gown. Georgiana took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself.
You can do this. He already knows the worst and agreed to marry you.
Georgiana examined herself in the mirror. Her big round grey eyes shone with fear, making her look even younger. Her neatly coiffed brown hair was pulled into a tight knot at the top of her head, which served to make the paleness of her skin even starker.
Will he like me? She wondered with trepidation before reminding herself that it did not matter. The marriage contract was already signed.
Misty returned with her gown and helped her put it on, lacing it up tight at the back before smoothing it down. There was a knock on the door, and her mother came in. When she saw Georgiana, her eyes brightened. “Oh, good. Are you almost ready to go and greet your betrothed?”
“I am.”
“Good. Let us go and meet him!”
Georgiana inserted her feet in delicate gold slippers and followed her mother down the stairs. She concentrated on slowing her breathing so that she would appear composed in front of her future husband. Forbes was waiting by the door to the parlor, and when they were near enough, he opened it and announced them.
“May I present Her Grace, the Duchess of Bellingwick, Anne Royston, and her daughter, Lady Georgiana Royston.”
There was a tall man with dark hair standing next to a taller man with ginger hair. The dark-haired man examined them, his green eyes piercing and inquisitive. The ginger-haired gentleman was less curious, looking slightly over Georgiana’s shoulder as if he did not want to meet her eyes.
“May I present, Alasdair Buchanan, son of the laird of Daltern.” The dark-haired man indicated the ginger-haired man. Georgiana was surprised. She would not have pegged him as an eager bridegroom…or any sort of bridegroom, really.
He bowed, very correctly, and murmured something to the effect of being pleased to meet them. Georgiana curtsied back and welcomed him prettily to their home.
Since he avoided looking directly at them, she avoided gazing at him, too, feeling her heart sink with disappointment. Was he so ashamed of her that he could not even meet her eyes?
“Ye will forgive our early arrival, I hope,” His voice was so low and deep that she jumped to hear it suddenly emerge from his lanky frame. “I simply couldnae wait any longer.”
Georgiana’s eyes narrowed. He certainly did not act as if he was impatient to meet her.
“That is quite alright,” her mother added, coming forward, “Won’t you take some tea?” she indicated the sofa on which they had been sitting. Both men sat back down, as Georgiana and her mother took the love seat opposite.
There was an awkward silence in the room.
“So, how was your journey?” her mother asked solicitously.
“It was…eventful,” Lord Buchanan spoke, his deep voice startling her again.
“Oh?” her mother leaned forward, encouraging the man to speak.
“Aye. We came by sea, which was quite…eventful.”
Georgiana narrowed her eyes, wondering at the flush in his cheeks. He still did not glance in her direction.
“And will you be staying with us while we…”
“Oh, of course,” the dark-haired man butted in. Georgiana realized that he had not introduced himself. “My master and I would be grateful for the accommodation.”
“Well, yes of course. We shall have some guest rooms readied right away.”
“Thank ye kindly,” Lord Buchanan added, the color in his cheeks increasing.
“Oh, you’re welcome.” Her mother gushed, a huge smile on her face. She turned to Georgiana with a raised eyebrow. “You have to forgive my daughter, she’s a little overwhelmed.”
Georgiana glanced at her mother and refrained from rolling her eyes before turning back to the other two. “So, did you want to get married right away?”
She almost bit her lip at her forwardness. She could not believe that she had been so blunt, although Lord Buchanan did not seem to notice.
“Oh, aye. I think it would be best.”
Best for who?
Georgiana decided that she really needed to speak with her betrothed in private.
* * *
Ethan was grateful that he wasn’t sweating visibly. He could feel his hands shaking and tried to conceal them beneath his coat. The girl, Georgiana, was not what he had expected. She was tiny for one thing, barely brushed the middle of his chest. Still, she gave off an impression of inner strength and confidence. Her grey eyes were alert and aware and watching him with way too much attention.
He had come expecting a vapid, shallow, giggling debutante and what he got instead…was this petite angel with bright eyes and tiny hands. He wanted to tuck her into his side and carry her away with him. He also wanted to find out who had dared to compromise her so that he could challenge them to a duel.
Georgiana was absolutely not deserving of that, Ethan was sure of it. She did not deserve to be lied to either. Suddenly his heart twisted, to think that he was about to do her a wrong, just like the man who had compromised her – take advantage of her innocence.
Ethan sighed, flicking a glance at Fergus, wanting to tell him that they should abort this – that they should leave the girl alone. But the duchess was asking after his health and whether they would stay, and Fergus had already agreed.
Ethan did not know how to extract himself gracefully from this situation. In any case, their ship had already sailed to America, and he already owed Fergus for the clothes on his body…. It was such a mess.
Georgiana turned to the duchess. “Mother? Perhaps I might take Lord Buchanan on a tour of the portrait gallery? Misty can join us.”
Ethan lifted an eyebrow.
Who is Misty?
The two of them seemed to have a non-verbal conversation before the duchess nodded. “Yes. You may show his lordship the portrait gallery while his…,” the duchess gestured toward Fergus, “manservant, gets them settled.”
Fergus smiled. “Yes, that’s a good idea. We did not bring our luggage with us; it is still at the inn. I shall go and collect it.”
“Oh, no need. I’m sure we can send a carriage with several footmen to fetch your luggage.”
Fergus and Ethan exchanged quick glances. It would not do for the duchess to know the squalor in which they were staying.
“I should not like to put you out in such a manner. Fergus can manage on his own.” Ethan added with a strained smile.
Georgiana got to her feet. “Shall we go?”
Ethan nodded, bowing awkwardly to the duchess before following Georgiana out of the room, hands clasped behind his back to conceal their shaking. He glanced back at Fergus, wide-eyed, and his friend gave him a small nod before following them out of the room. Ethan and Georgiana were immediately joined by a young lady in a white apron and brown gown.
We are actually going to do this. Ethan thought with a flash of panic.
Georgiana led him to a large ornate room with a high ceiling, lined with portraits. It was very ostentatious, and Ethan was suitably impressed. He turned to smile at Georgia
na, “These are all yer relatives, eh?”
“Yes, they are.” She pointed to the portrait of a lady with a head of pure white hair, tied back in a knot. She was wearing a large green jewel around her neck, and her hands were adorned with many rings. “That is my grandmother on my father’s side, Her Grace Victoria Royston. She loved to read. She read to me a lot before she died.”
Ethan stared at the portrait. The woman did not look like someone who read stories to children. It just went to show how looks could be deceiving, and he wondered what it felt like to have a grandmother.
“What did she read to ye?”
Georgiana smiled. “Whatever she had on her bedside table at the time. I remember she read me Les Liaisons dangereuses. I had no idea what she was talking aboot.”
Ethan smiled, uncomfortably…he had no idea what Georgiana was talking about and had little knowledge of the French language. He hoped she wouldn’t expect him to make an intelligent comment, and was relieved when she moved on to the next portrait. He glanced back to see her chaperone sitting by the door where she could see them, and they could see her, but they were virtually alone in the vast gallery.
They moved to the next portrait, a portly gentleman with a very red face and brown hair the color of Georgiana’s. He also had her grey eyes, although his were twinkling – even in the portrait – where hers were solemn.
“My grandfather, Samuel Royston, Eighth Duke of Bellingwick. He died of consumption before I was born.”
“M-my condolences.”
Georgiana smiled. “Thank you, that is kind of you to say.”
“I…didna ken my grandfaither. Or my grandmither.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.”
“I suppose so. I wouldnae really ken.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t. Tell me about your family then, the ones that you do know?”
Ethan looked away. He did not want to talk about his father, or his brother, and certainly not his mother. He did not know how much Georgiana had been told about her betrothed’s family. He did not want to pretend to be Lachie – not with her. She was kind and pure, and he did not want to lie.
“I can tell ye aboot the farm I live on. It’s a braw place, ye’ll like it. When the sun comes up in the morning, it raises the mist that blankets the land in a cold, cloudy cover and makes everything shimmer like a dream.”
Georgiana was staring at him as if awestruck. “You certainly have a way with language.”
Ethan smiled as he thought of his home and then shrugged. “It’s an inspirin’ place. Daltern sits on a meadow, right next to a small loch. It’s quite fertile compared to other places, but we dinna make a good harv-” Ethan stopped realizing that he was about to tell her about the harvest and losing most of the crop. He couldn’t believe he’d almost given himself away like that.
“Uh…I mean, the harvest is usually quite good, thanks be to God.”
“I see. Well, that is good to know. I should tell you that I know next to nothing about farming.”
“Oh! Dinna fash. Nobody will expect ye to cultivate anything, although we all like to pull our weight. I feel sure ye shall find yer place.”
Georgiana’s eyebrow rose. “Indeed? So it is a working farm we’ll be staying at?”
“Uh…” Ethan suddenly realized that he had no idea where they might live. “Oh, aye. Ye shall be living on a working farm.”
Georgiana nodded. “That’s…interesting. I am willing to learn your ways, but I fear you might be disappointed in me.”
“Oh, no, ma’am! Absolutely not. I should never be disappointed in ye. Ye are clearly clever and wise, and a fast learner too. I can tell.”
Georgiana laughed softly. “You can tell? How?”
Ethan shrugged, something in his chest swelled with delight when she laughed. “I just ken.”
“Mmm…” Georgiana studied him closely.
“So do ye want to get marrit right away or…?”
Georgiana smiled. “Well, there is something I would like to know first.”
“Oh, aye? And pray tell, what is that?”
Georgiana suddenly stopped and turned, looking him in the eye. “What are you hiding from me?” she demanded.
Chapter Five
Georgiana was quite unprepared for how Lord Buchanan’s face fell. She had suspected that he was concealing a vital piece of information from her, but now she was absolutely sure. He was acting like a guilty man, and she had no idea what he might have to feel guilty about.
When she asked him what he was hiding, he blushed so fiercely she had to look away, embarrassed for him.
“I-I-I dinna ken…what d’ye mean?”
Their eyes met. “I don’t know you very well, and you don’t know me. But I do know when someone is concealing something. You are not very good at it.”
He ducked his head down, the color spreading down his neck. Georgiana glanced down at Misty, who was busy knitting as she waited. She reached out tentatively and touched Lord Buchanan’s arm, on the coarse wool of his ill-fitting jacket. He looked up, gazing at her as if full of remorse.
“I know you’re not a bad man. If you were, you might be better at covering up whatever it is you’re ashamed of. Just tell me and let us sort things out together.”
He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He peered over her shoulder, out the window. “Can we walk outside?” he asked.
She smiled, encouragingly, and nodded. “Of course.”
She turned, propelling him back to the doorway. When they reached Misty, she paused. “We are going to walk in the garden.”
Misty shot to her feet. “Yes, m’lady.”
Ethan sighed, glanced at Georgiana, and began to talk.
“My name is Ethan Alasdair Buchanan,” he began.
She glanced sharply at him. “Ethan? I thought your name was Lachie?”
“Lachie is my half-brother. He’s the one you’re meant to marry.”
Georgiana’s heart sunk. Not again… she thought with despair.
“Go on.” She added bleakly.
Ethan sighed, “My faither has mistreated me and my mither for most of my life. She died when I was five and ten. Left me alone. My faither graciously allowed me to stay in the crofter’s cottage we lived in.”
“Wait…your…father? Let you stay in a crofter’s cottage?”
“Aye well, ye see, my mither was a lowly crofter who worked on the Daltern land. My faither got her pregnant while marrit to his lady. He didna want the lady to ken aboot me. I’m just a mistake he made long ago.”
“And…this is your revenge? To marry your brother’s bride?”
Ethan sighed, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry. I dinna ken what I was thinking.”
Georgiana stared at him. “What did you mean to do with me, once we were married? Did you think to ruin me further and abandon me or what?” her voice grew shriller with every word.
“What? Naw! I meant to save ye from ‘im. My brother is no a guid man.”
“Oh, and I should take your word for it?”
“Aye.” Ethan stared at her, finally meeting her eyes.
“Just like that?”
“I ken I have given ye no reason tae, but I like ye. Ye’re a braw lassie. Lachie will use ye hard. I dinna want that tae happen tae any other lassie.”
Georgiana frowned. “Any other lassie? Has your brother been married before?”
Ethan sighed, shaking his head. “Nae. But he did get a wean off one o’ th’ village lassies. He didna acknowledge the baby though.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened with shock and fear. “What happened to her?”
“She’s marrit the noo. Tae some auld fellow. ‘e’s guid tae her, I hear.”
“And…you’re saying you came to save me from the same fate?”
Ethan shook his head, looking down at his hands. “I wish my intentions were so noble, lassie. But I dinna think aboot tha’. Lachie squandered the harvest ye see. He intends to marry ye for yer dowry to replenish their coffers
. I got on a ship to America, to get awa’ from them. There I met Fergus, who convinced me that this scheme would work.”
“And you just went along with it?”
Ethan shrugged and gave her a small smile.
Georgiana shook her head. “You’re out of your mind. How did you expect to get married without the right papers? My marriage contract has me wed to Lachie Alasdair Buchanan, not Ethan.”
