Tying the Scot

by Jennifer Trethewey

  She smiled. Peter was trying so hard to please her. “Did you sleep at all?” Lucy arranged her skirts and sat on the bed next to him.

  “No, miss. I couldnae. There’s such a stramash down there. What’s going on?” A shrill cackle reverberated through the floorboards. “Are we being raided by pirates?”

  Lucy had to stifle a laugh. That’s exactly what it sounded like.

  “No. Mr. Alex’s cousins have arrived for the wedding. They’re having dinner in the dining room. Your room is just above, so, unfortunately, you can hear everything.” More wild laughter vibrated the floor.

  “Maybe I should go back to the stables so I can get some rest?” He sounded hopeful. It had taken only twenty-four hours for the novelty of his room to wear off. Since then, Peter had been pestering her about when he could return to the horses. Lucy’s best efforts to keep him entertained had not been diversion enough. She felt for him. Two days in bed and he was bored silly.

  “When your temperature goes down, and the swelling in your neck disappears, then you can return. But you don’t want to go back and give Robby the mumps, do you?”

  Peter’s eyes slid sideways, as though he considered the prospect a good one. “Well, no,” he said with some reluctance. “I suppose not.”

  “Try to sleep. I’ll be back after supper to read you a story.”

  “Do you have any stories about pirates?” His eyes glittered with excitement.

  “I’ll see what I can find in the library.” She scooped up Hercules and left Peter’s room.

  More laughter from below echoed up from the staircase. She didn’t want to go back to the dining room. Instead, she went to her own room and closed the door. The fire was nearly out, so she added another brick of peat and poked up the flames. She hazarded a glance in the glass above the washbasin. Not too bad, she thought. Her hair was reasonably in place. Complexion clear and rosy. She smoothed her brows and bit her lips to plump them.

  Lucy wasn’t wearing her best gown, but at least she hadn’t had on her grey serge and apron when they arrived. They would have mistaken her for a servant. She hadn’t brought many gowns with her; two morning gowns, and the navy wool for every day, the light blue gown she was wearing, the brown silk, the yellow silk, the beige cotton, and the white gown made of lawn cloth. She’d brought her hunting jacket and skirt, the outfit she’d had made two years ago with the hope that she might be asked to participate in a hunt. Alas, she had never gotten around to riding lessons and so had not had an opportunity to wear the ensemble. And, of course, she’d brought the gown she would wear for her wedding. Made of silk chiffon, it was the most beautiful cream color, like rich vanilla custard, with delicate gold roses Phillipa had embroidered on the bodice.

  “Charmante!” Phillipa had said when Lucy tried on the gown. “Your husband will think he marries a princess. Oui?”

  Lucy hoped Phillipa was right. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she wanted to please Alex. Until now, she had only been concerned with whether he could please her. A tiny thread of self-doubt crept into her consciousness. Would he come to love her the way that John loved Mother Flora? Would they have a happy marriage? Or was there someone else Alex preferred?

  And what the devil did that insufferable man mean by, “Surely he’s told you about him and Elizabeth?” Liam’s salacious tone and waggling eyebrows seemed to imply there had been a romantic relationship between the two. She pulled Hercules onto her lap and let him kiss her face. He was, as always, a comfort to her.

  The door to her room burst open, and Elizabeth stepped inside. Hercules barked his head off at her until Lucy managed to quiet him.

  Elizabeth made a face. “What is that thing?”

  “This is my dog, Hercules, given to me by my father.” She lifted her chin and added, “The Duke of Chatham.”

  “You’re quite certain he’s your father?”

  She nearly gasped at Elizabeth’s crass reference to her parentage, but she refused to take the horrible woman’s bait.

  Elizabeth looked around. “They’ve put you in my room.”

  “Your room?”

  The woman let her eyes slide to the adjoining door and back to Lucy. Smiling, she said, “Yes. I usually stay in this room.”

  The nastier side of Lucy surfaced and took possession of her faculties. “Yes.” She let her eyes slide to the adjoining door and back to Elizabeth. “I don’t doubt that you do.”

  She had the extreme pleasure of seeing rage flare in Elizabeth’s eyes before the woman spun around and stomped away. The hollow sound of her heels echoed down the hallway. As quickly as satisfaction filled Lucy’s bosom, it evaporated. The heavy realization that Alex had been romantically involved with that awful woman practically crushed her.

  She wondered if he had protested as long and hard as she had when his father announced that he had to abandon Elizabeth and marry a stranger. Most likely he had. Except he most assuredly had not carried on like a child the way Lucy had. He’d probably born the burden stoically and did his best to accept his lot. His lot, she thought bitterly. This morning she was to be his beloved wife. Now she was just his lot.

  Lucy’s better nature felt pity for her betrothed. Poor Alex. He had tried to make the best of the situation. He had tried to make her feel like he wanted her. Like she had been his choice. He had pretended they had a reason to hope for happiness.

  And just that quickly, Lucy’s pride reared its ugly head. She faced an impossible situation, a conundrum, a choice between two evils. To marry a man who, no matter how hard he tried, would always love another was something she could not endure. On the other hand, to walk away from the engagement, lose to that awful, spiteful, damn-her-eyes Elizabeth? Unthinkable.

  She held the dog up to her face and vowed, “We will not lose, Hercules. Alex will choose me. I will make him fall in love with me. This is my room. Now and forever.”

  …

  Alex and his father managed to escape the house after the midday meal. His head ached from Diana’s nonstop blethering. The pitch and sheer volume of her voice threatened to make his ears bleed. He was certain the only reason Sir Ranald could live in the same house with the woman was because he was almost deaf. Then again, it was likely Diana’s talking had made him deaf.

  Sir Ranald was a pleasant man. Interesting to listen to. Hard to talk to, though, as one had to shout into his left ear. A generous man, as well, charitable and kind. The best sort to be representing the concerns of Scotland in Parliament. How could Liam, a selfish, vain, and dishonorable man, be his son?

  Even as a boy, Liam had been unlikeable. He’d lied, cheated at games, and teased smaller children mercilessly. He had enjoyed seeing Alex get in trouble and had always wanted to watch while John took a strap to his backside. He chafed at the attention Liam had given Lucy at dinner. It didn’t look as if she welcomed his company, but if Liam persisted, Alex would have to get physical with the bastard.

  “Lord save us all,” his father said.

  “Indeed,” Alex agreed.

  The two headed for the falls. The mill was in full operation today, the huge water wheel churning steadily with the current. They made their way down the steep stone staircase set into the embankment a hundred and fifty years ago by Alex’s three times great grandfather, James Sinclair.

  Alex regarded his father’s back, broad like his own, his carefully plaited queue swaying as he walked, comfortable in his favorite well-worn kilt. His dark hair showed only a few threads of silver, and his step was as light as a young man’s. John Sinclair’s long career as a soldier had kept him fit. He couldn’t imagine his father ever getting old.

  At the bottom, they found their hiding place, an alcove carved out of the riverbank. Captain Sinclair was buried here, Alex’s great-great-grandfather. A giant granite slab covered his grave. John lifted a piece of slate and withdrew a tin flask from beneath. They sat, their backs against the rocky embankment and sighed. They didn’t talk at first. Just passed the flask back and f
orth in silence. Each golden sip of whisky loosened another muscle in Alex’s neck until, at last, he could breathe freely again.

  He let his gaze travel a few yards down along the river bank where, only two days ago, he and Lucy had lain in a passionate embrace. He’d almost had her. Almost reached that heavenly place between… Jesus, he should have broken Liam’s Goddamn arm for daring to breathe on his woman.

  “Did ya see that mingin’ bawbag, Liam, yaffin’ wi’ Lucy?” Alex said.

  “You should be more concerned about Elizabeth.”

  “Aye. She never paid me much mind when I was courting her. Now she’s saying how I’m so clever, so handsome, so fine. She spurned me not six months ago.” Alex shook his head. “I dinnae ken what she’s playing at.”

  “It could be she’s had a change of heart.” His father’s cool voice had a calming effect on him. “Sometimes people cannae see the value of something until someone else wants it.” John took another sip of whisky. “It’s equally as likely the vain creature needs to have the attention of every man in the room to herself.”

  Alex laughed. His father was so right about that.

  “But, knowing the spiteful bitch as well as I do,” John said. “I’d bet money this has nothing to do with you. I ken she just wants to humiliate Lucy.”

  He scoffed at his father’s speculation. “Och, Elizabeth cannae be that ugly inside.”

  “Oh, aye? You never met her natural father, Diana’s first husband, Nathan Campbell. He was Captain of Dragoon’s. I have never seen a man enjoy flogging another as much as he did. His men hated him. Officially, he died in battle, but I suspect his men killed him. And I wouldnae blame them. Elizabeth takes after him, to be sure.”

  “Why did you no’ tell me this when I was courting her?” Alex asked.

  “You dinnae believe me now. Would you have believed me then?” His father cocked his head in the same direction as his eyebrow.

  Whether his father was right about Elizabeth or not, her rejection no longer bothered him now that he had Lucy. He was glad to know, too, he had no more feelings of desire for the woman. In fact, he couldn’t recall what he’d found so beguiling about her in the first place.

  He and his father were quiet for a while, enjoying the mesmerizing sound of the falls. Something occurred to Alex, and he asked, “How did you know Lucy would be right for me?”

  “I ken her father well. He’s a just and honest man who knows the value of friendship,” John said. “He’s also intelligent, braw, and the most headstrong man I’ve ever met. I saw those qualities in Lucy when she was only nine years old. You met her yourself then. Do you no’ recall?”

  “I remember bits of it. I remember the duke took out his sword and named me Lucy’s champion and protector.”

  “Do you recall why the duke named you thus?”

  “I ken it was because I fished Lucy’s wee ball out of the pond.”

  “Nae, lad. That’s what got you the tawsing. That and bloodying her brother George’s nose.” John laughed at the memory. “Nae. Lucy begged her da not to let me punish you. Said you rescued her ball and defended her. Insisted you were brave and should be rewarded. That you were her protector.” John laughed loud and hard. “Oh God, Alex. I still remember you standing next to Lucy, righteous and dreekit. Ready to take your punishment. And you were so scairt when the duke took out his sword, I thought you’d piss yourself.” John wiped his eyes. “But then, after you swore to protect Lucy, well…I was right proud of you.”

  “And Lucy? What did she do?”

  “Och, she was bold as brass with her da. Standing by you. Demanding justice for you. After you made your oath to the duke, you tried to pledge your allegiance to Lucy like a gentleman. But she ran and hid her face in the duke’s coat. I ken she was embarrassed when the attention was on her.”

  Alex could remember some of the pieces but had to fill in the holes, imagining Lucy as a lass. He did remember thinking she was lovely even then. Perhaps that’s why he’d wanted to show off for her by fighting with her brother and retrieving her ball from the pond. He also remembered wanting his father to give him a tawsing. Taking a beating for being gallant would only be further proof of his manhood.

  “It’s four days until the wedding. Four days with the Ulbsters under foot. What should I do about Elizabeth?” Alex asked.

  “Dinnae do anything about her. It’s Lucy who needs you. Stand by her. Serve and protect her like you promised the duke. If she kens you’re on her side, she’ll be impervious to Elizabeth’s wicked tongue.”

  Later that night, Alex knocked lightly on Lucy’s door. It was time for supper. He wanted to escort her to the dining room. That way he could choose Lucy’s seat. Be a buffer between her and Liam.

  “Lucy. It’s Alex. Are you ready to—”

  “There you are, Alex, darling.” As if by magic, Elizabeth appeared at his side. “Come, take me down to supper.”

  “Go on without me,” he said pleasantly. “I’m waiting for Lucy.”

  “You wouldn’t let me go down without an escort, would you?” She used her poor little me voice.

  “Perhaps your stepbrother Liam will be along soon, aye? I’ll be taking Lucy,” he said firmly.

  “Oh, Alex, you are a slave to your duty.” Elizabeth waltzed away. When she was out of earshot, Alex knocked on the door again.

  “Lucy, she’s gone. Will you come out?”

  The door opened, and Lucy stepped into the candlelit hallway, looking more beautiful than ever with her plump pink lips, rosy cheeks, and large, wide-set eyes. Her hair had been swept up and twisted into a fetching knot with a few errant curls tickling her neck. Glowing pearl ear bobs dangled above alabaster shoulders aching to be kissed, and a string of tiny pearls encircled her long, slim neck. Her rich, chocolaty brown gown sported a daring neckline revealing the swell of her breasts. He remembered the salty taste of her skin and wanted to be alone with her. Damn. If he didn’t have a houseful of guests, he’d take her right now.

  He snapped out of his trance and straightened. Although it bothered him that Liam would surely devour Lucy with his eyes, he admired her competitive streak. Alex placed his bet on his thoroughbred bride. She would make Elizabeth run for her money tonight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lucy had taken extra care in the mirror to make certain she was at her best. It was important to her that Alex think her pretty. He confirmed her success with his appreciative look.

  “Ready?”

  “Wait. I want to ask you something.”

  “Of course.”

  “Why did you never mention Elizabeth?”

  Alex shifted his weight to his other foot, took a deep breath, and released it. “Do you mind when you got the letter from the blasted viscount and I was so angry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it occurred to me then to tell you, just to make you jealous, ken?” He scratched the back of his neck and squinted one eye shut. “But I reckoned that would only make us both miserable, so I didnae.” He shifted again and reached toward her, pinching the fabric of her skirt and rubbing it between his fingers in a half-curious way. “And then…well”—Alex stopped fidgeting and looked her straight in the eye—“I just forgot.”

  He looked so boyish and so earnest, she believed him.

  “Fine then. Just so long as she stays forgotten.”

  He gave her a broad smile, and she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow.

  “One thing,” Alex said. “I sit next to you from now on.”

  “I think that is an excellent idea.”

  They were the last to arrive at table. When Lucy entered, the gentlemen rose, and her heart fell. Two chairs remained empty. Elizabeth sat between them.

  John, seated in his usual chair at the head of the table, stepped aside. “Alex, take my seat so that you may sit next to your Lucy. I’ll sit on the far side of Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth’s smug smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. Alex gave Lucy’s hand a light s
queeze before she took her seat.

  Supper started well. John made a warm and welcoming toast to his guests, after which Sir Ranald made an equally gracious toast to his hosts. Liam sat directly across from Lucy. She avoided eye contact with him despite his repeated attempts to engage her in conversation. Each time he asked her a pointed question Alex would answer for her or change the subject.

  Alex, her champion.

  As she had during dinner, Diana dominated the conversation at the other end of the table through sheer volume. Fortunately, Diana’s diatribe discouraged the need to chat with Elizabeth to her left. About a quarter of an hour into the meal, she felt a friendly foot nudge her under the table. She glanced at Alex. If he were flirting with her, he would surely signal her with his eyes. He did not. It was Liam playing footsies under the table. She tucked her feet under her chair to avoid further disturbance.

  Moments later, Alex jerked. She heard a dull thud under the table and saw Liam wince. An impish grin appeared on Alex’s face while he continued to stare straight ahead down the length of the table, feigning interest in Diana’s oration.

  Alex, her protector.

  Lucy sucked in her cheeks and tried not to laugh.

  At the height of Diana’s story, which included hand gestures and impersonations, Elizabeth spoke to Lucy.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lucy said, indicating she couldn’t hear her.

  Elizabeth repeated her question, even though Lucy had heard her the first time. The witch had asked, “Who did you say your mother was?” This was her code for, “I know your father never married your mother.”

  She had always been an easy target for women like Elizabeth. Again, she shook her head and repeated, “I’m sorry.” Usually, people would give up after the second try. If their barb never hit its mark, they never scored.

  Elizabeth leaned in and asked her question again, louder, as if she were speaking to a child. For the third time, Lucy shook her head.

  “My God, Alex, she’s as deaf as my stepfather.” At that precise moment, Diana paused for dramatic effect. The whole table heard Elizabeth’s snide remark insulting not only Lucy, but Sir Ranald as well. Jaws and silverware dropped.