How to Marry a Royal Highlander

by Vanessa Kelly

  Edie had walked out to that meadow just yesterday, seeking solitude. It was close to the house but still private. “Waiting for that blasted Fergus, no doubt. Cora, go find my pelisse.”

  “Miss, ain’t you going to get dressed?” Cora said, sounding shocked.

  “There’s no time to lose. Mamma’s waiting.”

  Muttering that everyone had gone barmy, the maid fetched Edie’s pelisse. Edie snatched it from her and took off at a run, shoving her arms into the thick wool garment as she went. She burst into her mother’s room to find her parent garbed in boots, pelisse, and what was obviously the first bonnet that had come to hand—an elaborate confection with purple feathers and a large satin bow. In combination with her nightshift, it was the most ludicrous outfit one could imagine.

  Davis, hovering close by, was fully dressed and looking mortally offended that she had to send her mistress out looking like an escapee from a madhouse.

  This would be quite the story for Edie to tell her grandchildren—if their future grandfather managed to survive the morning.

  “Do you know where to look for them?” Mamma asked as they headed into the hall with Cora and Davis bringing up the rear.

  “I do,” Edie said. “It’ll be faster if we cut through the old part of the castle.”

  She thanked God that she’d spent the last few days exploring Blairgal, when she’d been trying to avoid Alec and his family. She knew exactly where she was going and the fastest way to get there.

  After taking two separate staircases and three corridors, they emerged into the gardens. The sun was finally coming over the horizon. A layer of frost coated the lawn and the shrubs, and grass crackled under their feet as they raced between rows of clipped shrubbery. Once, Mamma started to slip, but Edie and Davis managed to catch her and keep her from falling on her backside.

  “Eden, I will be having a very stern talk with Alasdair once this is over,” Mamma said as she yanked her bonnet back into place. “I have never in my life experienced anything so outrageous as the conduct of this family.”

  “You’re more than welcome to do so, Mamma, after I’ve boxed his ears.” Edie pointed ahead to a break in the rustic stone wall that surrounded the gardens. “There are the steps down to the meadow.”

  They hurried down the steps only to come to an abrupt halt at the bottom, almost piling up on each other. Edie heard her mother utter a salty curse as she grabbed Davis to steady herself.

  Alec and Fergus were standing at opposite ends of the small meadow, pistols in hand. Alec had his pressed down along the side of his leg, while Fergus was raising his.

  “Stop,” shrieked Edie at the top of her lungs.

  Fergus whipped around, so startled that he yanked his gun to point it right at the group of women clustered at the bottom of the steps.

  “Fergus, put the gun down,” Alec shouted, already on the move toward Edie and her mother.

  Edie dashed out to meet him. “You put that damn thing down too.” Before he could say a word, she threw herself against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his free arm going around her waist. “I told you to wait in your room.”

  “I’m saving your life.” She slid her hands down to grab the lapels of his coat. “Not that you deserve it, you stubborn man.”

  He did a quick scan of her outfit, his brows lifting with surprise. Then he looked at her mother—who was stalking over to confront Fergus—and let out a choked laugh. “Good God, you’re both still in your nightclothes. Have you lost your minds?”

  “There wasn’t exactly time to change,” Edie retorted. “What with the need to stop you and Fergus from murdering each other.”

  “I had no intention of hurting him, as you know.”

  “And what were your cousin’s intentions, may I ask? They didn’t look to be particularly friendly when we arrived.”

  Alec hesitated before answering. “I’m not quite sure. I don’t think he is either, although he did insist that we go through with this absurd exercise.”

  Edie shook him by the lapels. “Absurd and deadly. Alec, this must stop. It’s immoral and illegal.”

  “I agree, but right now it looks like we have to stop your mother from murdering Fergus.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to see her mother waving a finger in Fergus’s face as she berated him. He was obviously trying to defend himself, but Mamma was having none of it.

  “Oh, no.” Edie wriggled out from Alec’s embrace and dashed over to her mother.

  “Mamma, it’s fine,” she said, resting a hand on her mother’s arm. “We stopped it.”

  “You stopped nothing,” Fergus exclaimed, his face beet-red. “If you think this is the end of it, you are as insane as my cousin. Besides, it’s none of your business. Just go away and leave us alone, you bloody Englishwoman.”

  Edie had spent the last half hour trying to keep her temper—and hysterics—under control, but no longer. She stepped forward and jabbed a finger right under the young man’s nose. “It is my business, you nitwit. Whether you like it or not, I’m probably going to marry your cousin—”

  “Probably?” Alec interjected in an annoyed tone.

  Edie ignored him. “And that, Mr. Haddon, will make me your cousin and therefore someone you’re going to have to learn to live with. So the sooner you start doing that, the better—for you, for your mother, and especially for Donella.”

  Fergus had been starting to look rather abashed, but the mention of his sister’s name set him off again.

  “Don’t you dare talk to me about what’s best for Donella. I’m doing this to protect her,” he yelled.

  “And how will either killing Alec or getting yourself killed protect your sister?” Edie snapped. “That’s insane logic.”

  “What do you expect, Eden?” her mother interjected in a toplofty tone. “The captain’s entire family belongs in an asylum, as far as I can ascertain. Perhaps madness is a particular affliction running in the Haddon and Graham lineages.”

  Edie thought she heard a snicker from Alec. She ignored him again, glaring at her mother. “That is not helpful, Mamma.”

  “And I’ll bloody well not stand here and be insulted by the likes of you,” Fergus exclaimed.

  He was still looking mad as fire, but Edie thought some of the starch had gone out of him.

  “No one truly intends to insult you, Mr. Haddon,” Edie said in a firm voice. “But you must stop acting in this irrational fashion. It won’t solve any of our problems.”

  Fergus glared past her at Alec. “Why did you have to bring them back with you? Everything would have been fine if you’d come home by yourself.” Then he swiped an arm across his eyes and half-turned away, as if he didn’t want them to see his emotion.

  Alec placed his hands on Edie’s shoulders and moved her aside. “No, lad,” he said in a gentle voice. “It never would have been right for your sister and me.”

  “You didn’t even give it a chance,” Fergus said, waving his arms about.

  Which meant he was waving his pistol about, too.

  “Put that weapon down,” Mamma snapped, stepping in front of him. “Davis, come stand next to me. Eden, you and Cora block Captain Gilbride. They will have to shoot through us to proceed with this idiotic duel, and I feel sure they will not dare to do so.”

  Davis let out a weary sigh and trudged over to stand by her mistress. Edie was certain that Fergus had no intention of shooting anyone at this point, but followed her mother’s instructions as well.

  “Edie, that’s really not necessary,” Alec said, clearly torn between frustration and laughter.

  Cora reluctantly sidled up beside her. “Now what?” she said in a loud stage whisper.

  “I have no idea,” Edie whispered back.

  They stood frozen in a ridiculous tableau until a roar had them all spinning around. Lord Riddick stomped toward them, leaning heavily on Mr. Gilbride’s arm.

  “Pu
t those pistols down this instant,” thundered the earl.

  Alec shook his head. “Lovely. That’s all we needed to make this a complete farce,” he said. “Now what, indeed?”

  “No need to worry, Captain Gilbride,” Edie’s mother said as she plucked the pistol from Fergus’s hand. “I know exactly what to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Edie sat on a chaise in the impressive entrance hall of Blairgal, chewing on the edge of a now-ragged nail. She glanced yet again at the Louis XVI clock on the mantel, silently cursing the fact that the minute hand seemed frozen. Without a doubt, the last hour had been the slowest of her entire life.

  “Eden, stop chewing on your nail,” her mother ordered from her chair on the other side of the enormous fireplace.

  “Yes, Mamma,” she absently replied. Though her mother had reprimanded her in front of her reputed fiancé and his family, she was too rattled by the events of the last twenty-four hours and too worried about what might happen next to care.

  Alec wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand into his lap. “There’s no cause for anxiety, sweetheart. Your mother knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  She cut him a skeptical glance. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Aye. Just wait and see.”

  Edie let out a heavy sigh as she curled her fingers around his and waited for the rest of the Haddon family to appear. After Lord Riddick’s arrival in the meadow, he and Mamma had spent several tense minutes in whispered conversation. The earl had then ordered Fergus to fetch his sister and mother and bring them to the castle. Then everyone would assemble in the grand entrance hall—scene of many an important family meeting over the centuries, according to Alec—to discuss the issue of the broken engagement.

  “What’s going on?” Edie had asked her mother as they trooped back to the castle. “Why did his lordship send for Miss Haddon and her mother?”

  “Lord Riddick and I agreed it was necessary to hear from Miss Haddon,” her mother had said. “The final say regarding this ridiculous situation should be hers. If she still wishes to marry Alasdair, I think we must abide by that decision.”

  “What?” Edie had yelped, sliding to a halt on the slippery grass.

  Her mother had urged her along, practically dragging her through the garden to the back of the castle. “It’s the only way anyone in this dreadful family will accept your marriage to Alasdair. Miss Haddon must state once and for all that she has no desire to marry him, without any duress. Once that declaration is made, the way will be clear for you.”

  That had struck Edie as the worst plan she’d ever heard. Donella might very well have reviewed her stance since last night and decided she wanted to marry Alec after all. And since Mamma had apparently promised Lord Riddick that Edie would honor Donella’s decision, her fate now rested in the hands of a woman she’d thoroughly humiliated.

  When she’d raised that objection, her mother had simply marched Edie back to her room and ordered her to get dressed. She’d managed that in record time and had then flown down to the hall to see if she could buttonhole Alec before everyone else arrived. He had yet to even make her a formal offer of marriage, and the decision had once more been taken out of their hands.

  Unfortunately, Alec, his father, and his grandfather were already ensconced in the entrance hall, sitting in front of a roaring fire in the massive hearth. Alec had greeted her with a loving smile that had made Edie want to cry, escorting her to the chaise and then sitting next to her. When he’d put an arm around her, tucking her against him, Lord Riddick had grumped and Mr. Gilbride had tsked, but Alec had ignored them. Mamma had arrived a few minutes later, looking calm, imperious, and elegant. They’d all settled down to drink coffee and wait in uncomfortable silence.

  Edie felt like she had ants crawling under her skin and her insides churned, although that might well be the result of nervously downing two cups of coffee on an empty stomach.

  When the footman opened the front doors at the far end of the hall, the Haddons entered. They handed over their coats and hats before making their way to join them.

  “Courage, sweet,” Alec murmured in her ear. “Everything will be just fine.”

  She glanced up at him, wanting to roll her eyes. How could he be so blasted self-confident when their fate hung in the balance?

  But from the wild-eyed look on Mrs. Haddon’s face and the long-suffering one on Donella’s, everything was decidedly not fine. Edie’s stomach cramped on the horrible thought that Fergus and Mrs. Haddon had talked Donella round to their way of thinking once more.

  “Ladies, thank you for coming,” Lord Riddick said in a gruff voice. “Please take a seat.”

  Alec stood and took Donella’s hand, giving her a friendly smile. His cousin looked anxiously up at him, but she visibly relaxed when he murmured something in a low voice as he escorted her to one of the seats gathered around the enormous fireplace. That was hardly reassuring, and the fact that they looked so comfortable—and splendid—together made Edie’s stomach clench even more.

  The feeling was exacerbated when Alec didn’t return to sit with her, instead moving to stand next to his grandfather’s chair. It was a silent but clear signal of respect, and Edie certainly took it to mean that Alec would stand by the decisions made today.

  They were barely seated when Mrs. Haddon launched into an aggrieved rant.

  “Really, sir,” she said in a high-pitched voice to the earl. “Can we not have one family discussion without these outsiders taking part?” She directed a hate-filled glance at Edie. “My poor daughter shouldn’t have to sit in the same room with that—”

  “That’ll be enough, Glenna,” the earl interrupted in a stern tone. “Lady Reese and her daughter are my guests. Given the present circumstances, Miss Whitney has every right to be here.”

  Edie appreciated the earl’s intervention. He might be gruff and old-fashioned, but she was convinced he was a fair-minded man. In fact, he was beginning to grow on her, and she only hoped she’d get the chance to know him better.

  Mrs. Haddon practically quivered with outrage. “I never thought to see the day when you would choose strangers over your own family, Callum. I wonder what my brother will have to say about that.”

  “At the moment, I don’t care,” the earl replied in blighting tones. “What I care about is clearing up this blasted mess, so I’ll thank you to hold your tongue.”

  In the face of so comprehensive a set-down, Mrs. Haddon had no choice but to fume in silence.

  “Thank you, Glenna,” said Mr. Gilbride, jumping in to smooth things over, as usual. “I know how distressing this is for everyone.” He switched his attention to Donella. “Now, my dear, I think Fergus must have explained the, er, dust-up we had here this morning. I hope you are not too unsettled.”

  Donella, who was sitting with her hands primly folded in her lap, frowned. “Not nearly as unsettling as it would have been if my foolish male relations had gotten around to shooting each other.”

  Mr. Gilbride looked taken aback by that response, as was everyone else.

  In the startled silence, Donella turned and smiled at Edie. “Miss Whitney, I must thank you and your mother for intervening in so prompt a fashion. We are all grateful. Or, at least, we should be.” When she threw a significant glance toward her brother, Fergus had the grace to look embarrassed.

  “You’re welcome,” Edie said, blinking. Gratitude from her rival was the last thing she’d been expecting.

  “We all share your relief, my dear,” said Mr. Gilbride. “But I’m sure we’re all aware that the matter which precipitated the unfortunate meeting is yet to be fully resolved.”

  “It most certainly is,” Mrs. Haddon said in a strident voice. “The only honorable recourse is for Alasdair to honor his long-standing commitment to my daughter.”

  Edie’s mother let out a ladylike snort, which brought Mrs. Haddon’s Medusa-like gaze swinging around to her. Mamma simply gave her a bland smile, perfectly conve
ying the message that she found the other woman a dead bore.

  “I’ve made it very clear that I have no wish to marry Alasdair, nor is it necessary for him to feel any sense of obligation toward me,” Donella said in a cool voice. Her glaze flickered over to Edie before returning to rest on Lord Riddick. “It’s quite obvious that he has feelings for Miss Whitney. I had not, in fact, realized how deep his attachment was to her, which was an error in judgment on my part. And although I deplore the manner in which he communicated the depths of that attachment last night, I do not resent him for feeling it.”

  Every muscle in Edie’s body went slack with relief. She darted a look at Alec, who gave his cousin a rueful smile.

  “I never meant to embarrass you, Donella,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

  She gave a ladylike shrug. “Perhaps it was the only way to get through to everyone, myself included.”

  Alec cut Edie a sly glance as if to say, see? If she hadn’t been so relieved, she would have been immensely irritated that his underhanded plan had apparently been the right course of action after all.

  Fergus leaned forward in his chair, staring earnestly at his sister. “Are you sure this is what you want, lass? You’ve spent years getting ready to be Countess of Riddick.”

  Donella smiled at her brother, genuine warmth lighting up her beautiful face. Not for the first time, Edie wondered why Alec hadn’t fallen in love with her years ago.

  “Only because no one gave me any other choice,” Donella said frankly. “I suppose I believed it was for the best, as you all seemed to think. But I never really wanted to be Countess, and I certainly never wanted to marry Alasdair.”

  “Thank you,” Alec said in a wry voice.

  Mrs. Haddon had been sitting rather stonelike through the exchange, but she responded to her daughter’s words by letting out a loud moan and dropping her face into her hands.

  “Then why in all that is holy didn’t you tell me that ages ago, Niece?” the earl demanded in an aggrieved tone. “You would have saved us all a great deal of trouble.”