Never Less Than a Lady

by Mary Jo Putney

  Randall shrugged. “No combat was involved. While the carriage horses were resting, I located Julia and we decamped under cover of night.”

  “Let me see if I understand this properly, Randall,” Kirkland said slowly. “You are marrying the widow of your cousin. Your uncle, whose heir you are, considers her a murderer and wants to seek vengeance now that he knows she’s alive. Do you look for trouble, or does it just find you?”

  “I’m not sure that wanting to marry Julia falls into either category,” Randall replied. “While it’s a complication that she is my cousin’s widow, I wanted to marry her before I learned that. Even if I hadn’t, I could hardly stand by when I heard that men had broken into her home, tied up her apprentice, and carried her off in broad daylight.”

  “Certainly not.” Kirkland frowned. “Is Julia still in danger? It seems likely.”

  “I think Daventry will call off his dogs after I visit him and tell him of our marriage. He wants to see a healthy heir to the earldom before he dies, and that means accepting Julia as my wife.” Randall’s brow furrowed. “I doubt that Daventry’s men will find us now that we’re away from Cumberland. But until we reach London and I’ve talked with my uncle—yes, there might be some danger.”

  “I’m about to return to London,” Mackenzie said, serious for once. “If you like, I can travel with you.”

  “I can’t say that I ever imagined having you along on my honeymoon, Mac,” Randall said, his mouth quirking up. “But yes, that would be very helpful. Just in case.”

  Mackenzie smiled beatifically, seriousness abandoned again. “Splendid! A long journey is much more interesting if there is a possibility of mayhem.”

  “We will be taking a detour into Cumberland to collect some of Julia’s belongings,” Randall warned. “That will add a couple of days to the trip.”

  The other man shrugged. “I shall see a part of the country new to me.”

  The dining room door opened and a well-dressed woman of middle years swept in. “I can’t leave the house for the day without matters getting out of hand!” She smiled affectionately at her nephew as she scanned the guests. “Tanner says Major Randall has returned with his betrothed, and I am to organize a wedding?”

  Kirkland chuckled as the men arose to their feet. “He spoke true, Aunt Maggie. Unless Randall’s betrothed prefers to make other arrangements. Lady Julia Raines, meet Mrs. Margaret Gowan, the most alarming of my aunts. I shall leave it to the two of you to work out wedding plans.”

  Julia rose. “Since my presence is no longer needed, I’ll bid you good night so you gentlemen no longer have to be on your good behavior.”

  “Your suspicions wound me,” Mackenzie said soulfully.

  Randall grinned. “I would say she’s taken your measure, Mac. Sleep well, Julia.” His glance said clearly how much he wished he could join her later.

  Surprised at how much she wanted the same thing, Julia joined Mrs. Gowan. “Let’s have a nice pot of tea while you tell me what you’d like for your wedding,” the older woman said. She had a cheerful, no-nonsense quality that reminded Julia of Mrs. Ferguson at the King’s Arms.

  After ordering tea to be delivered to her private parlor, Mrs. Gowan led the way to a comfortably furnished sitting room. “Make yourself comfortable, Lady Julia.” She waved toward the chairs. “I’m sure you have an interesting tale to tell if you wish to tell it, lass. Major Randall had no thoughts of marrying when he left here last week.”

  “The decision was sudden, but we’ve known each other for some time,” Julia said, deliberately vague.

  Disappointed not to learn more but still hospitable, Mrs. Gowan said, “Tanner gave the impression that you wanted the wedding performed as quickly as possible. What kind of ceremony would you like?”

  Julia hadn’t considered the question, so she had to think. “A small church ceremony. Nothing elaborate.”

  “I imagine you and Major Randall are Anglican.” The older woman picked up a sheet of paper and a pencil so she could make notes. “Do you require an Anglican chapel, or will Church of Scotland do?”

  Julia hadn’t thought about that, either. Since the whole point of marrying in Scotland was to give her the right to divorce, they might as well be Scottish all the way. “The Church of Scotland will do very well, and surely be easier.”

  “Indeed it will.” Mrs. Gowan nodded approvingly. “Our parish church is only a street away, and it will be easy to arrange a ceremony there. What else?”

  Julia grimaced at her worn, unattractive clothing. “If there’s time, I’d like to get a nicer gown. I have nothing suitable with me.”

  “That’s easily done. My youngest daughter is about your size, and she’d be happy to give away a gown or two since it would give her an excuse to buy more.” Mrs. Gowan made a note. “No matter how small a wedding is, anything so important needs to be done right. Do you have any friends in Edinburgh you’d like to invite?”

  “No one but Kirkland. I’m a widow and have always lived in England,” Julia explained. “My first wedding was very grand. I’d like this to be as different as possible.”

  “It will be, lass.” The tea arrived, and Mrs. Gowan poured them each a cup. “Now tell me what else you’d like for your wedding day.”

  When she’d married Branford, all the arrangements had been made by Julia’s elders. She’d had almost no say. This wedding would be small, but to her own taste. And, please God, the marriage that resulted would be, too.

  Chapter 12

  After Mrs. Gowan swept Julia away, Mac finished his port and got to his feet. “I’ll take my leave now. There’s a gaming house I need to inspect.”

  “Keep a tight hand on your purse,” Kirkland advised.

  When Mac was gone, Randall said, “Is he visiting on your official, or your unofficial, business?”

  “A little of both. Plus some of his official business.” Kirkland grinned. “We aren’t all as straightforward as you.”

  “War reduces life to basics.” Randall thought of what lay ahead. “Matters are more complex now that I’m out of the army.”

  Kirkland leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together on his midriff. “Are you as confident that you can tame your uncle as you appeared?”

  “No, but I thought I might as well appear confident until events prove otherwise.” Randall’s smile was ironic. “No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. Daventry is capable of reason, but it’s also possible that he’ll pull a pistol from his desk and take aim. I can handle that. Hired assassins in dark alleys are harder to guard against. For Julia’s sake, I hope the danger can be removed. She’s suffered enough because of the Randall family.”

  Kirkland’s eyes narrowed. “I never met Branford, and you never talked about him. He was that bad?”

  “Worse.” Randall knew he could never fully understand what it was like to be a young girl at Branford’s mercy. Julia had been scarcely more than a child. But he knew enough of his cousin to be chilled at the thought of what she’d endured.

  “Would you welcome an excuse to kill Daventry?” Kirkland asked quietly.

  Frowning, Randall considered the question. His uncle had refused to acknowledge or check his son’s cruelties. Because of that, Randall and Julia had both suffered at Branford’s hands. And of course, there was Daventry’s desire to let his nephew die of neglect. “Perhaps I would. But the provocation would have to be great.”

  “I shall hope that he can be tamed. If you have to kill him, it would be the damnedest scandal.”

  “You have a gift for understatement.” Randall refilled their glasses. “Before I forget, thanks for your support. We could have married in Gretna Green, but I didn’t want this to be a hole-in-corner wedding.”

  Kirkland swirled his port glass without drinking. “I think highly of Julia, but are you sure this marriage is wise? She seems a rather uncertain bride.”

  “Which is why we’re in Scotland,” Randall said wryly. “She’s only willing to mar
ry me if she’s sure there’s a way out.”

  Kirkland relaxed. “I should have realized you were aware of her misgivings.”

  “If there was time I’d court her in the usual way, but that isn’t possible. I can best protect her if she’s my wife.” Which was true. But he wondered if his courtship would have been successful if she hadn’t been in fear of her life. He suspected not.

  “Still the knight in shining armor, I see.” The other man hesitated. “Though she needs and deserves protection, sacrificing your future is not the only solution.”

  “Marriage is no sacrifice on my part,” Randall said flatly. “She has not been out of my mind since the first moment we met.”

  Kirkland studied him. “Then it is better to marry than to burn.” He raised his glass. “May you both find the happiness you deserve. Preferably with each other.”

  Randall could drink to that. Especially the latter part.

  Julia was working at the writing desk in her room when she heard quiet footsteps accompanied by the tap of a cane. Randall was coming up to bed. He would be able to see the light under her door. Would he come in to say good night?

  She was pleased when he knocked on the door. “Come in,” she called as she rose from her chair to greet him. “I’m making lists. Mrs. Gowan suggests that we marry two days from now? With a wedding breakfast here after the ceremony.”

  “Very good.” He glanced as his travel-stained garments. “I need to find myself some decent clothes. Maybe I can borrow something of Kirkland’s. We’re around the same size.” He smiled a little. “You haven’t decided to take flight? Every time I see you, I’m half-surprised that you haven’t slipped away.”

  Though he spoke as if it was a joke, she recognized his underlying seriousness. “I am nervous,” she admitted. “But I give my word that I won’t run away. You’re my best chance of a normal life.”

  That surprised a laugh from him. “I’m not sure if I’m pleased or alarmed to be seen as normal.”

  “You should be pleased.”

  “Then I will be. Sleep well, Julia.” He started to turn away.

  “Wait.” She rose on her toes and gave him a good-night hug, her arms sliding under his coat. His cane fell to the floor with a clatter as he hugged her back, strong arms enfolding her.

  Though they’d slept together for two nights, this was the first time they’d embraced while standing. “Ahhhh…” she breathed as she leaned into him, resting her head on one broad shoulder. She felt the beat of his heart, the rhythm of his breathing, the hard muscle and bone beneath her gently caressing hands. “This would be more convenient if I were taller.”

  “I think you fit very nicely.” He stroked her head, his fingers kneading gently. She didn’t realize that pins were falling out until her hair fell around her shoulders.

  “You have extremely passable hair,” he murmured as he ran his fingers through it.

  She laughed a little, feeling feminine and attractive and—unafraid. Randall made her feel safe. As Hartley’s unofficial physician, she’d cut and sewed and patched male bodies, but embracing a healthy man was very different.

  His hands smoothed down her arms to her back, making gentle circles. “I’m glad you’re getting used to my touch,” he murmured.

  “I like your touch.” Which was quite amazing, really. But true. She wasn’t sure how long they held each other. A long time, though not long enough. Randall seemed as content to be peaceful as she was. Thank God he wasn’t a lustful, pawing boy. It was becoming ever easier to imagine a marriage of affection and companionship.

  Finally he sighed and released her. “I’ll be asleep on my feet in another few minutes.” He bent and retrieved his cane, barely wincing as he bent his right leg. “Good night, milady.”

  There was a caressing tone in his voice that made her feel like a cat being petted. Regretting his departure, she said, “Only two more nights in separate beds.”

  He paused, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She withdrew a little, not ready for that much intimacy.

  Perceptive, he brushed a kiss on her forehead. Light. Unthreatening. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re not going to run away.”

  He was gone before she could say that she no longer wanted to run from him.

  Chapter 13

  Randall experienced his wedding in flashes of clarity, surrounded by a haze of unreality. Julia looking lovely as the dawn in a rose-colored gown with soft waves of chestnut hair framing her delicate features. Mackenzie, one of the guests, coming alert as he noticed how attractive the bride was. Julia’s ice cold hands as she tucked a sprig of her white heather nosegay into Randall’s coat, whispering unevenly that it was for luck.

  He felt nervous as a cat on a griddle. She must feel even more anxious since this was her second trip to the altar, and the first had been a disaster. The triumph of hope over experience.

  His mind was very clear on how much of a gamble this marriage was—but his heart, soul, and every particle of his body wanted her. He’d given up trying to understand why. What mattered was that she was willing to trust him enough to say yes.

  The wedding breakfast at Kirkland’s house was actually a wedding luncheon and lasted for several good-natured hours. As the guests and newlyweds laughed and joked and ate excellent food, Randall relaxed and the world began to seem normal again.

  The feast ended when Kirkland stood to make a toast. Raising his glass toward the bridal couple, he said with a grin, “I’ve known you for over twenty years, Randall, and I never thought you would show such good sense as to marry a woman like Julia.”

  “I hadn’t yet met Julia, so I was unaware that I would want to marry.” His gaze found hers, and they shared rueful amusement over all the complicated reasons that had brought them together.

  More seriously, Kirkland continued, “For this Scottish and English wedding, I offer a blessing in Gaelic and English.” After uttering several sentences in rolling Gaelic, he said in English:

  “May you be healthy all your days.

  May you be blessed with long life and peace,

  May you grow old with goodness and with riches.”

  “Thank you.” Randall would settle for health, long life, and peace. Riches weren’t necessary. As for the goodness—Julia had enough for both of them. His gaze moved to the other guests. There were only a handful. Apart from Mac, they were friends and family of Kirkland, all of whom had met Julia and fallen in love with her.

  Raising his glass, Randall continued, “My thanks to all of you for coming and making today special.” He finished his toast in one long swallow, then stood and bowed to his wife, unable to restrain his smile at the thought. His wife! “Since we will be leaving Edinburgh in the morning, milady, would you like to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the city? You’ve not had much time to see it.”

  “I’d like that.” Julia rose and gave her own thanks to the guests, with a hug for Mrs. Gowan. Then she collected a shawl and bonnet, and they left the town house.

  They stepped into the quiet residential street. As usual in Scotland, the day was a mix of sunshine, swift clouds, and brisk temperatures. Randall exhaled with relief. “It was a good celebration, but I’m glad to be alone with you. What would you like to see? Edinburgh Castle? Holyrood Palace? The twisty old streets and closes of the old town? Edinburgh isn’t like any English city.”

  She took his arm. “I want to see it all!”

  He chuckled. “Will you settle for as much as we can manage before we run out of time or stamina?”

  “That will do.” She frowned. “Or until your leg starts bothering you. You aren’t using the cane today.”

  “Hardly a twinge left. You do good work.” He studied Julia’s face. Lovely, serene, and a little haunted. My wife. As they turned into Princes Street, he said quietly, “I’m glad you didn’t bolt, Julia.”

  “So am I.” Her expression was pensive. “I have trouble remembering why I was so anxious. Now I feel wonderfully
free.”

  “Because the decision is behind you.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s trying to decide that ties one in knots.”

  She laughed, looking young and carefree. “You’re right. I feel as if I’ve made a new start in life. Looking forward, not back.” She released his elbow and took hold of his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. “You risk a great deal by marrying a woman whose only dowry is likely to be trouble. Thank you for daring to do it.”

  “You risk a great deal by marrying at all.” He hesitated. “I don’t know why, but I can talk to you about things I’d discuss with no one else.”

  “And I’ve told you things I’ve revealed to no one else. Not at all a bad foundation for a marriage.”

  Julia’s expression was warm and vivid—like a happy bride. With a rush of excitement, he realized that tonight might be a true wedding night. She had changed a great deal in the last days. If she wasn’t ready for intimacy, he would never force her. But it was impossible not to hope. The happier he felt, the more he wanted her.

  As they turned into broad Princes Street, Julia said, “I liked the wedding vows. No nonsense about me obeying you.”

  He laughed. “Scottish women are an independent lot, and the wedding vows reflect that. They might have been designed for you.”

  Her hand tightened on his. “I’m glad we came to Edinburgh. The city and your friends have given our marriage a good start.”

  Randall thought buoyantly that someday they would tell their grandchildren about this wedding day. He sobered when he remembered there would be no grandchildren. He hadn’t much cared when Julia told him she couldn’t bear a child because he had never expected marriage and family. Nor did the Daventry succession matter much to him.

  Yet now he found that he did care. He would like to have a daughter with Julia’s sweet smile and quick mind. He’d like to raise a son with kindness instead of brutality. That would never happen, and the loss was sharper than he could have imagined a fortnight before.