He paused, and then let out a rueful laugh. “I know that must sound ridiculous, given all the advantages I had. I can only say that I was a headstrong, foolish boy who had read one too many tales of adventure.”
“I completely understand. Imagine what it’s like for girls. We’re never allowed to do anything exciting, much less travel abroad. And the sooner we leg-shackle ourselves to an eligible suitor, the better.”
“So, imagine my horror when Grandfather announced my betrothal to Donella at a clan gathering to celebrate my sixteenth birthday.” Alec still remembered the fight they’d had on the eve of the announcement. Though he’d never raised his voice to the earl before, he hadn’t backed down and the vicious argument had only ended when Grandfather threatened to lock him in his room for a week.
“If you can believe it,” he said, “he and my uncle only told Donella about their decision an hour before the announcement was made.”
Edie looked horrified. “That’s awful. What did your poor cousin have to say about it?”
“She acted rather martyred about the whole thing but told me it was our duty to obey. I tried to get her to fight back, to no avail. As I mentioned,” he added drily, “she’s always been a very obedient girl.”
“That does sound dreadfully insipid of her, though she was quite young at the time.”
They’d both been young, but Alec had still managed to stand up to his grandfather. And he couldn’t imagine Edie allowing herself to be forced into a similar situation, no matter how young she was.
“She was fifteen and I was sixteen. We were to be married when I turned eighteen.”
“That’s appalling. I can’t blame you for running away, even though it must have been a blow to your family.”
“It was, but I had to do it. The announcement of the betrothal was the last straw.” He let out a ghost of a laugh. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I pulled it off.”
Her lips quirked up in a wry smile. “Boys that age usually have more bottom than brains, as my father always said.”
“I certainly did,” Alec said. “And I wouldn’t have blamed my grandfather for leaving me to my own devices. But he made sure I was looked after instead of leaving me to be murdered in some backwater London slum.”
“It’s very clear that he loves you, despite his gruff manner,” she said softly.
Alec sighed. “Yes, he does. He also has a ridiculous amount of pride. I’m sure he couldn’t bear the idea of his heir living like a pauper on the streets.”
“He’s not the only one in the family with a fair measure of pride,” she said. “One might even call it arrogance.”
“You wound me, Miss Whitney, you surely do.”
“I doubt it.” She took in a deep breath. “And now we’ve come to the crux of the matter. You’ve finally returned, and your family expects you to take up where you left off.”
“Sadly true, as my grandfather made amply clear right after the war ended. I was to return home immediately, marry my cousin, and assume my rightful position as Master of Riddick. No more running around Europe like a frippery fellow.”
Her eyes widened. “Your grandfather does know what you were doing there, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t overly impressed. Not that he didn’t see Napoleon as a threat,” he hastily added when she blinked with shock. “He feared something would happen to me, and he didn’t want me to put myself in harm’s way.”
“I can understand that,” she said.
Alec understood it too, especially in light of his mother’s early, tragic death. But once the war started, Alec had known what his duty was. To abandon that duty for the safety of the Highlands would have made him a coward. Of course, there’d also been a fair measure of selfishness in that decision, too. He hadn’t been ready to return home and had partly used his duty to the Union as an excuse.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
“About what?” he asked absently, still half-lost in the past.
She rolled her eyes. “About your betrothal.”
“I’m trying to break it off, of course. In the only way I know how.”
“By convincing your fiancée that you’re an unrepentant rake? That’s a splendid plan.”
“You’re the one who pointed out that only the female can honorably break it off,” he countered.
He wouldn’t, even if he could. He would never shame Donella, and that made him feel rather desperate, as if the old stone walls off Blairgal were falling in on him.
“Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to use me as the vehicle for your ridiculous plan,” she retorted.
“I’m sorry, but I did the only thing that made sense under the circumstances,” he said, grimacing. “I couldn’t just give the poor girl the old heave-ho, could I? As you rightly pointed out, it would besmirch everyone’s honor. Publicly flirting with you seemed like a plan that might work, since I know Donella doesn’t exactly worship the ground I walk on. I was hoping she’d be so disgusted with my behavior that she’d give me the heave-ho.”
When Edie cast her gaze up, as if looking for heavenly intervention, he couldn’t hold back a flare of irritation. “What else would you expect me to do?”
“I would expect you to first ask me for my help.”
He lifted an ironic brow. “And would you have willingly assisted me?”
She hesitated, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course not.”
“I rest my case.”
She eyed him with distaste. “I suppose it never occurred to you that I would be offended by your stupid plan.”
That had been an error of monumental proportions on his part. He realized now that her flirtations had all been good-natured and more innocent than they might appear to the casual observer. She treated all the men who trailed after her with the same offhanded, friendly demeanor. If they pursued her, it was because she was such a damned enticing woman, exuding an outrageous but entirely natural sensuality that any red-blooded man would find hard to resist.
But until that one serious error with Sir Malcolm Bannister—an unworthy bastard whom Alec intended to deal with the next time he was in London—she’d always kept to the right side of propriety. Some might think her behavior fast, but Edie was simply high-spirited, strong-willed, and much too curious for her own good. She chafed against the restrictions that society imposed upon young women, and Alec could certainly understand that.
Well, he had the solution to her problem. The more he thought about it, the more he realized what a splendid wife she would make—what a splendid countess. Edie needed a challenge, and Alec knew he would be a challenge to any sane woman. And a large, thriving household and estate, with all its duties, would provide abundant opportunities for her to exercise her energy and brainpower to good effect.
As for an outlet for her other physical energies, Alec was more than ready to allow her to exercise those on him in any way she chose.
But first they needed to sort out the business with Donella.
“I’m sorry that I offended you,” he said. “I was a complete idiot.”
“We can at least agree upon that point,” she said. “Did it never occur to you that your plan might backfire on you? That flirting with me might simply make Miss Haddon more determined to have you?”
“No, and she wasn’t determined, as I’m sure you noticed.”
She looked thoughtful. “Yes, and it does seem rather odd.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why odd?”
“If you can’t figure that out, I’m not going to explain it to you.”
“Oh, right.” He grinned. “It’s because I’m so irresistible.”
“So irritating, more like it.” She peered at him over the top of her spectacles. “Are you sure your cousin isn’t in love with you?”
“Positive.”
“Then why are you so sure that she wants to marry you? She certainly didn’t seem keen to discuss the plans for the impending happy event, did she?”
“Most definitely not.”
Edie shook her head with exasperation. “Then why are you so certain?”
“Because my grandfather told me that she still wants to.”
“And you haven’t actually asked Miss Haddon herself?”
The incredulous tone in her voice made him feel rather defensive. “Why the devil would I need to do that? I already had my answer.”
“From your grandfather, you birdwit. You have to talk to her, and you have to do it alone. If she doesn’t wish to marry you, then you can join forces and stand up to your relations together.”
Knowing Donella, and knowing that she’d spent the last ten years hearing all the reasons why she should marry him, he didn’t think that very likely. But he supposed he didn’t have a choice, since Edie clearly thought his plan was the silliest thing she’d ever heard.
She’d gone back to looking more thoughtful than annoyed. She opened her lips, pressed them shut, and then opened them again. “Are you quite sure you don’t want to marry Miss Haddon?” She managed an offhand manner, but Alec heard the uncertain note in her voice.
“Actually, I think I’d rather marry you.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and it took a few moments for her to answer. “That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement, Captain Gilbride. I can only assume this impulse is a recent discovery, deriving more from circumstance than emotion.”
“No, it isn’t recent,” he responded quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it for some weeks now.”
She blinked at him several times, looking completely off-balance. “Oh, that’s . . . that’s nice,” she stuttered. “I think.”
He reached down a hand to cup her determined little chin. “You think?”
Her eyes went soft and warm, and her lips parted slightly. Heat gathered in Alec’s chest before starting to make its way down to his groin. He bent to kiss her, but she jerked back, batting his hand away.
“It’s complicated, Alasdair Gilbride. You’re engaged.”
“That complication will be resolved shortly. I promise.”
She put a hand to her forehead. “You’re a menace.”
He grabbed her by the elbows, lifting her into his arms. She gasped with outrage—not very convincingly, he thought—and braced her hands against his chest.
“I’d like to be a menace to you,” he murmured, ducking down to feather a kiss across her lush lips. When she quivered in his arms, he couldn’t hold back a low laugh. “Think of all the fun we could have if you married me.”
For a moment, she leaned into him, her mouth ripe and perfect for kisses. Then, those lips clamped shut against him and she gave him a shove.
“We are not having this conversation until you talk to your cousin,” she said. “You need to find out how she truly feels about you.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”
Alec had already decided to talk to Donella. As Edie had pointed out, it was the right thing to do and, at this point, the smartest.
He gave his future wife a seductive smile as he tried to reel her in again. “You drive a hard bargain, lass. Now, how about sealing our deal with a kiss?”
Edie gasped again, this time sounding genuinely annoyed. “I haven’t agreed to anything, you big Scottish oaf. Now get out of my way.”
She shoved past him and marched down the hall, disappearing down the stone staircase in an outraged swirl of skirts.
With a sigh, Alec sank down onto the bench, pondering the question of just when he’d lost his touch with women.
Chapter Fifteen
Alec forced himself to smile at the boy who hurried out from the stables to take his horse. “Give Darius a good rubdown,” he said, handing over the reins. “We had a bruising ride back from Haddon House.”
“Aye, Master,” said the boy. “I’ll take bonny care of him.”
“Captain or sir will do, lad. You needn’t call me Master.”
The boy eyed him uncertainly. “Whatever ye say, Ma—, sir.”
Edie was right. That proper title was positively feudal, and the sooner he could break the servants of using it, the better.
Alec headed out of the stable yard toward the front of the castle. His mood was black after his disastrous talk with Donella, and even a long ride along the river hadn’t made him feel any better. The Highlands were as beautiful as he remembered, but right now they still felt like a prison. Along with the beauty and the privilege came obligation, and his cousin’s answer had told him just how much of a burden that obligation was about to become.
Edie had been convinced that being honest with Donella was the best way to achieve his goal of breaking the engagement, but such hadn’t been the case. It now began to look like his admittedly devious plan would have had a better chance at success than honesty. It was a sad comment on his entire family, starting with himself. Clearly, they were all as barmy as dogs howling at the moon.
He stopped to gaze out over the long valley with its wild glens and its glimpse of mountain peaks. He could admit that some part of him had missed those spectacular sights when he was away, but he hadn’t missed the future that apparently now awaited him as laird of the castle and all he surveyed.
A future that would include Donella Haddon, not Eden Whitney, as Lady of Riddick.
Donella didn’t love him, and she’d made it abundantly clear. But she’d also confirmed that she had every intention of honoring their betrothal. When he’d tried to explain all the reasons why she shouldn’t, she’d cut him off.
“It was my father’s fondest wish,” she’d said in a flat, chilling tone. “I promised him on his deathbed that I would honor it.”
Alec didn’t usually find himself at a loss for words, but a deathbed vow was a bit daunting. He’d contemplated telling Donella that he had feelings for another woman but suspected his cousin already knew that and wouldn’t truly care.
Donella had also gone on to say that she had an obligation to serve as an obedient daughter of the clan. While that was downright silly as far as Alec was concerned, she didn’t see it that way. She then proclaimed that she’d spent the last ten years preparing to be Countess of Riddick, and that she gratefully accepted both the burden and the privilege of the role. Before Alec could even think of a rational reply to that horrifying statement, Donella had risen, dropped him a graceful curtsey, and glided from the room.
She’d rolled him up, leaving him no other choice but to stalk out, mount his horse, and ride like a madman in a futile effort to shake off his anger with his family, Clan Graham, the bloody Highlands, and life in general.
Blowing out an exasperated breath, he spun on his boot heel and marched up the steps of the castle to the wide double doors. Because the November afternoon had grown warm and fine after the morning’s cold rain, the doors had been left open to the fresh air. A footman waited in the hall, giving him a deferential nod as he took Alec’s coat and hat.
“When ye have a moment, his lordship wishes to see ye in the library, Master,” the footman said.
Alec’s teeth clenched, but he managed not to snap the poor fellow’s head off. His first order of business—after he figured a way out of his current mess—would be to have a word with Blairgal’s butler about the appropriate manner of addressing him.
He headed toward the stairs on the other side of the cavernous entrance hall. Before he reached it, he heard a quick tread on the staircase, and a moment later Fergus appeared carrying a stack of ledgers. His cousin looked abstracted and slightly worried, but when he saw Alec his thin, handsome features slid into a scowl.
Christ.
No doubt he was about to receive another lecture. That would be the third of the day, given that Edie and Donella had already had a go at him.
“The laird wishes to speak with you,” Fergus said in a cold voice. “In his library.”
No deferential treatment from his cousin, that was for sure. Fergus didn’t give a damn that Alec was Master of Ri
ddick, probably because he was next in line to hold that title and would, in fact, someday be laird if anything happened to Alec.
Would have been Master if Alec had died in the war or, indeed, never been born at all.
Alec arched his eyebrows in polite enquiry. “And do you have any idea what he wants to talk to me about?”
Fergus’s green eyes took on a decidedly glacial cast. “I think you know very well what he wishes to discuss.”
“My betrothal to your sister, no doubt. As I also have no doubt you were discussing it with him.”
When his cousin glared back, Alec crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at him. He was several inches taller than Fergus, and right now he didn’t mind using his height to his advantage.
“I’ll thank you to mind your own business, Fergus. This matter is between Donella and myself.”
“She’s my sister, Alasdair,” his cousin flashed back. “It’s my duty to protect her and the family’s good name. And I’ll do whatever is necessary to do that.”
“Good God,” Alec exclaimed. “She’s my family, too. Do you really think I want to hurt her?”
“I don’t know what you’re capable of. You’ve been away so long that I hardly recognize you anymore,” Fergus said in a harsh voice.
Alec forced himself not to respond in kind. After all, his cousin was simply trying to do his duty, as he saw fit. “Lad, you’ve spent all of three hours in my company since I’ve been back. Besides, I hardly think I’ve changed all that much. You certainly haven’t.”
As far as he could tell, his family was fairly well stuck in time, with the same ideas about how life—especially his life—should play out.
Fergus let out a disbelieving scoff. “Not changed? You must be joking. For all intents and purposes, you might as well be English.”
“Ah, the ultimate insult. I’ll let you in on a secret, lad. The English put their breeches on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us.”
His cousin’s eyes flared wide with anger. “Have you forgotten what they did to us less than a century ago? What is still happening in some of the other counties, especially up north? They’re clearing the crofters and the farmers out, Alasdair. Throwing them off the land that supported them for centuries. That’s what the English have done and are still doing to us.”
How to Marry a Royal Highlander Page 19
