The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride

by Raven McAllan

  Why did he have to come back just because his father died? Stupid question. He was no longer the Master of Kintrain, but the laird, and responsible for everything, not just a tobacco plantation.

  Fraser had loved Barbados. The people, the climate, his work. Everything. After… Do not go there. Sufficient to say, he rather thought Barbados had saved him.

  ****

  ‘This journey seems to have gone on for ever,’ Morven muttered out of the corner of her mouth as she shut the door on their mama and sagged against its wooden panels. It was their last stop before they reached Kintrain, and even though she wasn’t sure what waited for them at the castle Morven was heartily pleased. ‘My rear is flattened in all the wrong places, and aches accordingly.’ She rolled her eyes and rubbed the afflicted part of her body.

  The duchess had never been renowned for travelling with speed, but the snail’s pace she had chosen for their journey north had tried Morven severely. ‘I swear if I’m told one more time that no man wants a bluestocking as a wife, put the book away, I might go shout hallelujah and go and live in a study.’

  Murren giggled, and then sobered immediately. ‘You know, Morven, I’m not looking forward to this visit at all. Mama…’ She hesitated and nibbled her lip. ‘Mama seems to think I should be thinking about getting married once I am eighteen. My birthday is not for another month. You’re in your twenties. She doesn’t plague you over marriage. Why me?’

  Why indeed?

  Morven shrugged. ‘I think perhaps that at last she realises I am a lost cause. Too many gentlemen have been sent on their way before they have had a chance to declare themselves. I’ve reiterated that marriage is not for me.’ Little does she know. ‘Although I’m sure she doesn’t mean you should be married just yet. Does she have anyone in mind for you to get to know?’

  ‘She says the laird is now home and his mother insists he needs a wife.’ Murren gave Morven a glance which, when she thought about it later, was calculating and even sly. ‘He needs someone who according to mama will stand behind him.’

  What? No, she can not say such a thing. Morven’s skin became clammy, and dark spots hovered behind her eyelids. Lord, she couldn’t pass out. She could imagine the questions that would bring about. We might not be truly married, but we plighted our troth.

  ‘She does?’ What an inane response, but for the life of her, nothing else came to mind.

  Murren nodded feverishly. ‘What do you think? You know him?’

  ‘Knew him.’

  Morven thought her sister’s face was flushed and her eyes clouded, but as Murren wouldn’t look Morven in the eye it was difficult to tell. She’s hiding something. It gave Morven a jolt. The sisters had always been open and honest with each other. A nasty niggle of unease hit her. Not always on her side and now inexplicably it seemed neither on Murren’s. A pang of sadness threatened to engulf her. Times were changing.

  ‘Morven, he’s old.’ Murren stared at Morven intently. Almost as if she were intent on divining Morven’s reaction. ‘Almost twenty years older than me. And they want me to marry him. Oh she said so sweetly, that it could wait a year or so. She accepts that I’m still young, but he has to have a wife.’ She burst into tears. ‘Why me?’

  Morven cuddled her sister close. If only she could reassure her, but really what grounds did she have? She couldn’t say he was hers, because she had no idea where she stood in his affections. Nowhere probably, but even so… He would crucify Murren, break any spirit she had without even realising it. She couldn’t say she thought it all a sham, because what grounds did she have for that suspicion except Murren’s behaviour, and that might have nothing to do with it. Even so…

  ‘I wonder if he knows about this?’ Morven mused. He better not. ‘From what I remember the laird is not one to be forced into anything he doesn’t want to do, and he’s…he’s a person who needs someone to stand up to him.’

  ‘I couldn’t do that.’ Murren gulped. ‘I’m not strong-willed like you, Morven. If I marry I need it to be to someone kind and gentle, who will not try to change me. From all Mama said, I hardly think the laird is that man.’

  All of that statement rang true and Morven agreed with it wholeheartedly. ‘Well then don’t worry. We’ll sort it. No one will make you marry if you don’t want to. Especially not to him.’

  Especially.

  ****

  ‘I’ve told you, Mama, I have too much to think about and do, to play host to your friends,’ Fraser said for at least the sixth time. ‘I won’t actively ignore them, I promise you. I will do all that is proper. However, I need to catch up on what’s been happening on the estate. Papa had lost his grip towards the end—you know that.’

  ‘He couldn’t help it,’ his mama said defensively. ‘He had lost his capability to see things straight.’

  ‘Mama, I know and it was not a criticism, merely a statement of fact. It is also fact that I have to straighten things out. We were lucky to have such loyal staff to hold on to the reins but, ultimately, I am the person to decide what, when, and how. I came home after five years, as soon as I was able, had hardly drawn breath here before I went to Edinburgh on behalf of the estate.’ And I have other people I want to find. To discover why I heard nothing, to…

  ‘Fraser, are you well?’ His mama stared at him intently. ‘You look white and dyspeptic.’

  ‘Not at all, as I said, I’m just trying to think of everything that needs to be done,’ he replied urbanely.

  Interestingly his mother flushed and bit her lip before she blinked and smiled. ‘You will do so well.’

  He hoped so. ‘Now, I have to stamp my authority on what goes on at Kintrain before I do anything else. Anything,’ he emphasised. ‘And that includes considering marriage.’ And I need to find out if I am wed or not. That was not going to be easy. Fraser made a mental note to go to Stirling the following day and make some enquiries.

  To whit was a ceremony such as he had entered into considered valid? Plus, why was he not told about the possible ramifications at the time? That he could hazard a good guess about. It has suited others not to mention it.

  ‘You still haven’t said who your guests are,’ he continued as his mother handed him a glass of their duty unpaid, made on the estate, finest malt whisky. He held the glass to the light to watch the amber contents glisten. ‘All I’ve had is vague, oh an old friend and some of her children. Even when I thought I might have to play nursemaid on part of their journey, I still didn’t know for whom I might be caring. Lord, Mama, do you know if I need to hire nannies or extra staff to keep the bairns occupied?’

  ‘Well it was all irrelevant once you didn’t,’ his mama said evasively. ‘You went to Edinburgh, they travelled via Carlisle, and we need no more staff.’

  Why couldn’t she look him in the eye again?

  ‘So, now I do need to know,’ he said forcefully. ‘How many is some? Is that why you’re so vague about these people?’ Fraser added the optimum amount of soft spring water that came from high in the hills, to make the whisky taste as the makers intended. ‘You’re not sure just how many of your guests I have to be hospitable to?’

  ‘Our guests,’ his mother said emphatically. ‘I thought you were too busy to want to know the details. I’m trying not to burden you with minutiae.’

  Fraser smiled. He wasn’t going to be tricked like that. ‘No, Mama, your guests, using my hospitality. Who are…?’

  ‘Fraser.’ She pouted, which in itself was enough to make him wary. ‘Surely it is immaterial.’

  He raised one eyebrow and noted how his mama still couldn’t meet his eyes. As he thought, she was up to something. Something she thought he wouldn’t approve of. ‘How can the names of people stopping in my house, sharing my hospitality, not be important?’ he asked sardonically. ‘With one breath you are exhorting me to be a proper host, with the other you choose not to tell me to whom…’ He stopped speaking and simply waited.

  His mother sighed. ‘I feared if I told you, you would
delay your return home, and not be here for their stay.’

  Why?

  ‘If I had my way I wouldn’t have left at all,’ Fraser said deliberately. ‘You were the one who insisted only I could go to Edinburgh.’

  Lady Napier reddened. ‘I thought it necessary. As a woman no one would listen to me.’

  Fraser knew he looked sceptical, because she burst into speech.

  ‘Fraser, it’s true. When your papa died, I did my best. But I could have screamed at times. No one listened to me. In fact one or two so-called advisors went to the Laird of Lassgoil and asked him to step in on my behalf.’ Senga growled, actually growled. ‘How dare they.’

  ‘What? Geordie Lassgoil?’ Surely not? ‘He’s doddery.’

  ‘That’s as may be, and luckily he refused. But to some he was more worth listening to than I—one reason I was glad you came home when you did. And why I thought it best you go south on the clan’s behalf. Sometimes it is so…so bloody hard to be a woman,’ she finished impassionedly. ‘Damned bloody hard.’

  He’d never heard his mother blaspheme before. His shock must have showed on his face because she smiled somewhat shamefaced. ‘Bloody hard,’ she reiterated once more.

  All right, that sounded half believable. ‘Even so, as it happened nothing, nothing,’ he stressed, ‘needed to be done there. The estate manager and I could have dealt with it all with from here. A wasted journey. Why I wonder? What are you not telling me?’

  Lady Napier shifted on her seat and opened her eyes wide. Fraser snorted. ‘That allegedly innocent look will not deter me, Mama. Why are you being so secretive? What do you know I will not like?’ It seemed the itches up his spine were there for a purpose.

  ‘Mother?’ He emphasised the sobriquet she hated. According to Senga Napier it made her sound a harridan, something she insisted she was not.

  Not generally.

  Lady Napier sighed. ‘Nothing to do with the estate or your journey, I promise you. It’s just that our visitors are The Duchess of Welland and her daughters.’

  His instincts were correct. He didn’t like it. ‘Both of them?’ he asked with a sinking feeling. ‘Both daughters?’

  ‘Well yes.’

  His heart plummeted. Dammit that was not what he needed. Not now, not yet. ‘So you chose to keep me in the dark, because…?’ How he kept a snap out of his tone he had no idea.

  She didn’t want me. He remembered his words in his letter. “I love you, come to me. Why did we let ourselves be parted?” She didn’t want me.

  ‘I thought you might not be happy,’ his mama admitted. ‘After all you had no interest in Morven when she was here.’

  Little she knew.

  ‘She was eighteen, to my thirty,’ he said patiently and hoped the pulse in his neck did not show just how erratic it was. If she thought that, he had no intention of disabusing her of that idea. ‘Too big a gap. Much too young.’

  Not for what we did. Not for what we could have had.

  “Leith 1810,

  My love, I will soon be on board and ready to set sail. I pray I find you waiting.”

  ‘Much too young,’ he said again.

  ‘Not at all, it’s a good age to mould a wife,’ Senga insisted. ‘That was the age gap between your papa and me.’

  ‘What era are you from, Mama?’ Fraser shook his head. ‘All right, yes it worked for you and Papa, but you were one of the few couples I saw content and happy with each other. But generally? An eighteen-year-old innocent?’ Well she was. ‘I was thirty and had explored everything all young men do. I just did my duty and escorted her when I had to.’ He had to pretend it was just a holiday friendship and no more to save his sanity.

  His mother blushed. ‘Fraser, consider my sensibilities.’

  ‘Mama, if you’ve pulled a stunt like this, I’m not sure you have any.’ Fraser began to pace the room. Really, could things get any worse? ‘Now I’m seven years older with all that entails.’ Not a lot considering He’s worked hard, and played very little. ‘That apart, think of a lamb and a wolf. If and when I decide to wed, my wife would need to be my equal, not a chit hardly out. I do not want to mould anyone.’

  ‘Well you should,’ Lady Napier said resolutely. ‘How else can they be what is needed for Kintrain?’

  Natural talent? Sense?

  He didn’t answer her out loud. If he opened his mouth he might say something he regretted later. No might about it, it was a given. Fraser counted to ten. Twice.

  ‘And I do think the younger sister, Murren, is a lovely…’

  ‘Enough,’ he ground out and held his hand up in the air.

  His mama blinked and took a step backwards to sit heavily in a nearby chair.

  ‘That age gap is nigh on twenty years,’ Fraser went on. ‘No more, Mama. No matchmaking and if you want me here whilst they are, you’ll be wise to remember it. They are your guests, this is your home, but I’m its master. And if I choose not to be part of your, your visitors’ entertainment, I won’t. Plus, if I hear one word, just one word,’ he emphasised, ‘that makes me think that child assumes I will make her an offer, you will wish I hadn’t. This is my home, I’m the laird and remember if I choose to decide that only I and no one else lives here, you will be in the dower house before you can say I do.’

  Lady Napier opened her mouth and shut it again immediately.

  Fraser nodded. ‘Very wise. Plus you would be sensible to remember I have other estates to visit soon. It can be now as easily as next week or month. When I go is my decision, but you and your behaviour can influence it. I hope nothing, and I mean nothing at all, has been said to that young lady to make her think that I might consider her suitable as the Lady of Kintrain.’

  ‘Ah, er no.’ But his mother didn’t sound too sure. ‘After all why would there have been?’

  Oh for the Lord’s sake. ‘Exactly.’ He deliberately spoke harshly and felt bad when his mama blanched. He understood that in her own way she was only trying to help him. ‘Now if you will excuse me, I need to see the factor.’

  He didn’t; he’d already spoken to him earlier that day, but as an excuse it sounded plausible.

  Now my need to go to Stirling is even more imperative.

  Chapter Two

  ‘At the risk of sounding a moaning monster, Mama, are we there yet?’ Murren winked at Morven who hid her smile. She of course knew exactly where they were, and that there had been no need to stop for lunch. It was but five miles to the castle. They’d just passed The Lake of Menteith, the only proper lake in Scotland. As she’d been told on her previous visit, the other so-called lakes were all artificially made. An early cartographer who translated the Gaelic for low-lying land as “lake” only called this loch a lake due to a mistake. It had fascinated Morven, especially when Fraser had explained it was shallow enough for it to freeze over on occasion, and curling matches—a Bonspiel—would be held on the ice.

  ‘It’s so romantic,’ Murren went on in a dreamy voice that made Morven choke with laughter. Their mama looked at each of them in suspicion but didn’t comment. ‘You know that Mary Queen of Scots stopped in the priory for a few weeks when she was tiny? It was a safe haven for her after a horrible battle. Then they smuggled her out of the country to France.’

  ‘Murren, enough,’ the duchess said sternly. ‘You don’t want to be seen as a bluestocking; your sister is bad enough, and look where that left her.’

  ‘On the shelf,’ Morven said cheerfully. ‘It suits me.’ She hoped her voice didn’t sound as hollow as she knew her words were. It had to until she discovered what she was.

  Why didn’t he ask me to go with him?

  ‘You’ll never get a man like that, either of you,’ the duchess said huffily. ‘I swear, I despair of you, Morven, but I beg of you do not put such ideas into your sister’s mind.’

  Morven swore she heard her sister mutter under her breath something along the lines of ‘you almost tempt me’. Perhaps she did have a backbone after all.

  ‘It’
s not long now.’ Morven decided it was time to butt in and do her best to restore harmony. It would never do to arrive at their destination with them out of sorts with each other. ‘An hour I would say, seeing as we have to go up the pass to the castle. Then we can relax.’ And if she believed that, she would also believe kelpies lived under the brig.

  Her mother frowned. ‘Is it so close? I, ah, thought it further,’ she said unconvincingly.

  ‘It’s not,’ Morven replied and smiled as her mama coloured a little. ‘I’m sure you’ll be relieved, Mama, to know we are almost there. After all, this journey has been long and tedious has it not? I know you’ve suffered.’ As have we all.

  ‘Ah yes.’ Her mama’s redness increased. ‘Well as you say, almost there now and then we can unwind.’

  You might be able to; I fear I’ll be as tense as a wound-up spring. Why on earth had she agreed to accompany her mother and sister? The castle held mixed memories. It was simple. Her mama had given her no choice, and with her brother busy elsewhere she had no one to agree with her plea to stay in Rutland.

  He handed me into the carriage and bade me have a good journey. I never thought I’d be happy again. I was not too young to know my mind.

  ‘So,’ Morven said in an attempt to deflect her mind from things best not thought about at that time. After all, perhaps a face-to-face meeting would help her to know her own mind? ‘How long is it since you have seen Lady Napier? I forget.’

  ‘Senga? Oh a year perhaps, just under. She was in London just before her husband died and I came up for the funeral.’ The duchess sighed dramatically. ‘Poor Senga. Her son, the heir, was in Barbados and she was all alone.’

  ‘Apart from her younger children?’ Morven asked mildly. ‘I thought there were several?’

  ‘Ah, yes, but young,’ her mother blustered. ‘Such a hard time. Of course Fraser was not able to return in time to see his father buried.’

  Morven remembered that. She’d thought she might get a letter or a note but had received nothing. It was as if she no longer mattered.