April Seduction (The Silver Foxes of Westminster Book 5)

by Merry Farmer

  Cece’s grin broadened. “She has retired to a small cottage overlooking the River Esk, near Gretna Green.”

  “Gretna Green?” Bianca frowned in confusion. “Didn’t people use to run away to get married there in our grandparents’ time?”

  Rupert burst into a laugh as the pieces came together in his mind. “That will certainly make them jump,” he said. He would have kissed her cheek at least if his sisters hadn’t been standing there. “What do you need to do to get in touch with your nanny?” he asked.

  “I can send her a telegram,” Cece said without hesitation. “I’m sure she’ll help and that she can have her cottage prepared to be sealed by morning.”

  “Then we’d better get started,” Rupert said, itching to put the plan into action.

  “What are we doing?” Natalia asked with a huff. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’ll see,” Cece said, practically giggling. “Once this machine is set into motion, Papa and your mother will fall into each other’s arms again so fast there might be an earthquake.”

  Chapter 16

  Katya didn’t make it three hours before her plans for a speedy retreat were foiled. Malcolm’s usually on point staff was maddeningly slow to respond to her request for a maid to help pack her things. She was tempted to think that Malcolm was behind the dereliction of duty, that he was intent on making her miserable, or that he was trying to keep her close, until she discovered the true source of the delay.

  Somehow, after she’d stormed into the house, Natalia had managed to fall out of a tree.

  “Why in Heaven’s name were you climbing a tree?” Katya asked in exasperation as two maids helped Natalia into the afternoon drawing room. “You’re not a child anymore.”

  “It was a dare,” Natalia said with an overdramatic wince as the maids settled her on a sofa and rushed to bring her tea. “Bianca dared me.”

  “You didn’t have to take my dare,” Bianca insisted. The little hellion was having a hard time concealing a smile and mischief glittered in her eyes.

  “Of course I did,” Natalia answered. “I couldn’t just stand there and let you win, could I?” Natalia had an equal measure of mischief in her eyes.

  Katya could only imagine what kind of trouble they’d been plotting before it was cut short by the fall. Or perhaps mischief was still in the works. Natalia looked surprisingly tidy for someone who had fallen out of a tree. Katya’s suspicions were strengthened when she noticed the maids whispering to each other in a corner, their expressions full of mirth that was entirely inappropriate when a guest in their house had injured herself.

  “Rest for a bit,” Katya said at length with a sigh, “then go pack your things.”

  “Oh, but, Mama, I couldn’t possibly travel in this state,” Natalia protested.

  “She’s right,” Bianca seconded her. “She would be such a bother with her ankle twisted as it is.”

  “I couldn’t possibly run to catch trains like this,” Natalia said, reaching to rub her left ankle.

  Katya could have sworn she’d been favoring her right ankle when the maids had brought her in. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I’ll give you until the morning to recuperate and pack. But we will leave first thing, injuries or not.”

  Bianca and Natalia seemed to pause for thought, exchanging a glance before Bianca said, “That would be sufficient time. All right, Mama, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

  Katya took her supper in her room. She was still too stung by the things Malcolm had said and too aggravated by her life in general to be in company, even if that company was her family. Like it or not, Malcolm and Cece were like family to her. They had been for ages. It both galled Katya and saddened her beyond measure that it should all come to this after so much water under the bridge. She picked at her lamb, stirred circles in her soup, and sniffed at her pudding, but even in solitude, she didn’t have much of an appetite.

  What had gone wrong between Malcolm and Tessa? The question wouldn’t leave her mind, not even after she sent her picked-at food back, undressed, and climbed into bed. She stayed awake, tossing and turning as possibilities rolled through her mind. Tessa had been perfect, for all she knew. She had been the love of Malcolm’s life, no matter how badly Katya had wanted that spot herself. Malcolm had never had anything but glowing praise for the ghost of the woman. She was beautiful, refined, and tragic. He had rescued her from unbelievable hardship and given her a safe but short life.

  Malcolm had been mourning Tessa when Katya met him, and had continued to mourn her ever since. Try as Katya had over the years, she’d never lived up to Tessa. She’d never been soft enough or sweet enough. God only knew how hard Malcolm had tried to make her as dependent and submissive as Tessa had been. That thought left her twice as restless, to the point where she crawled out of bed to pace in the moonlight instead of wrestling with the sheets. How different would her life be now if she had caved in to Malcolm’s demands a decade ago and become the charming wife he’d always wanted? How different would it have been if she’d cut him loose the moment she realized that what he truly wanted from her was to take Tessa’s place, to fit into the dead woman’s shoes.

  Both possible outcomes would have made her miserable. Not that the situation she found herself in currently was any better.

  Sleep found her in the small hours of the morning, but it was a difficult, restless slumber. She awoke at dawn, bleary and depressed, but more than ready to flee Scotland and resume her life in London. She wasn’t too old to take another lover or two or more. But as she packed her things—the maids still hadn’t come to help her—that prospect left her feeling heavy and old. Lovers were too much trouble, when all was said and done. And no other man could hold a candle to Malcolm.

  With her trunk packed at last and her heart miserable, Katya left her room and headed downstairs to find a footman to handle her things. She hadn’t expected to find her children lined up and waiting to leave at the front door, but she didn’t expect to find her girls in the state they were in either.

  “What are you doing downstairs in your dressing gowns?” she demanded of Bianca and Natalia as they huddled in the morning parlor, whispering like thieves. “You should be dressed and ready to leave by now.”

  “Oh, Mama.” Bianca straightened, blushing up a storm, and hiding something behind her back. “You’re up early.”

  Katya sighed impatiently. “It’s not early. What is that behind your back?”

  “Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Natalia asked, her eyes bright with mischief as she rushed forward in an attempt to steer Katya out of the room. “You can’t start a journey on an empty stomach.”

  “What the devil is going on here?” Katya asked as she was bustled into the hall.

  Her puzzlement was cut short as she spotted Malcolm coming down the stairs. He’d dressed without care and hadn’t bothered to shave. Katya’s heart skipped a beat at the hints of ginger stubble in his mostly grey facial hair and the sad set of his shoulders. She wanted to run to him and embrace him and tell him everything would be all right, that they would be all right.

  His pace slowed as soon as he caught her staring at him, and he descended the last few steps with heaviness. “You’re ready to go, I see.”

  Katya swallowed and straightened, trying to be regal and not betray her grief as she crossed to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. “You know this is for the best, Malcolm.”

  To her surprise, he nodded sadly. “I don’t know what we were thinking,” he said in an uncharacteristically defeated voice. “We’re all wrong for each other.”

  “I have too much fire in my blood for you,” Katya agreed, resisting the urge to break into a sob.

  “And I’m too much of an ass for you,” he said.

  In spite of herself, Katya broke into a weak grin. “I would say something about your ass, but there are young ears nearby.”

  Malcolm managed a grin as well and glanced past Katya to where Bianca and Natalia were hovering in the doo
rway. The two of them looked eager to hear what they’d say next.

  “I’m only sorry that I kept you from finding someone who would truly make you happy,” Katya went on, her smile fading.

  Malcolm looked stricken by the comment. “I was happy with you. What makes you think I wasn’t?”

  Katya shook her head. “We both know that I wasn’t Tessa. I could never fill those shoes.”

  Malcolm scowled. “Of course, you could never be Tessa. Tessa was—”

  “Malcolm,” she cut him off, raising a hand. “Let’s just leave it there. Too much has happened to bring it all out now. I’m leaving, and you’ll never have to put up with me again.”

  Malcolm’s mouth hung open for a few more seconds before he snapped it shut and tensed. “Fine. If that’s what you want. Goodbye.”

  He pushed forward, heading toward the breakfast room. Katya started for the front door, where Mr. Mackay stood, observing the whole scene like a statue.

  But before Katya could ask him to have a footman bring her trunk down, Bianca and Natalia burst out from their observation post.

  “Wait,” Bianca called, producing a small letter from behind her back. “You can’t go.”

  “And you can’t walk away, Lord Malcolm,” Natalia called out, stopping Malcolm in his tracks.

  When both Katya and Malcolm stared questioningly at the girls, Bianca went on with, “Rupert and Cece are gone. They left this note.” She scurried forward to hand the letter to Katya.

  “They’ve run off to elope,” Natalia burst as Katya opened the letter, far too much glee in her voice.

  “What?” Malcolm bellowed, striding toward Katya with renewed energy.

  He reached Katya’s side and glanced over her shoulder as she read the letter.

  “Dear Mama and Papa,” it read. “We know that your plans are to break for good, for Mama to return to London, parting the two of us as surely as you are parting yourselves. We cannot stand for it, though. We are in love, and we intend to act upon that. We are leaving immediately for Gretna Green, where we will be married by the local blacksmith. By the time you read this, we may already be man and wife. Be happy for us and for our love.” It was sighed, “Your loving children, Rupert and Cecelia.”

  “What in the name of all that is sacred,” Malcolm began, plucking the letter out of Katya’s hands. “They can’t do this.”

  “You’re right,” Katya said, full of renewed energy and anger. “Don’t those two idiots realize that marriages at Gretna Green were outlawed decades ago?”

  “I’ve let Cece read too many romantic novels,” Malcolm growled. He folded the letter and handed it back to Katya. “The fools.”

  “I told Cece not to do this,” Katya sighed, rubbing her forehead and beginning to pace.

  “You told her what?” Malcolm stood still, following her with his eyes.

  “I told her not to marry so young. It was a disaster for me, and I don’t want her to face the same fate as I did.” She shook her head, incredulity building inside of her. “They’ll ruin themselves.”

  “But marriages are no longer performed in Gretna Green,” Malcolm said.

  “Of course they aren’t,” Katya snapped. “But what do you suppose they’ll do once they reach there? They’ll get a room together. Even if they don’t physically do anything, rumors will fly.”

  “From a dozy old place like Gretna Green?” Malcolm stopped her when she paced near him.

  “Rumors can start anywhere,” Katya said, facing him squarely. “And be honest. Those two have been in love since the moment they met. Blacksmith marriage or not, do you think they’ll contain themselves once they realize they’re alone without prying eyes?” Malcolm didn’t look convinced until Katya added, “Would we have contained ourselves?”

  A new understanding lit his eyes. “Mackay,” he snapped at his butler. “Have a carriage prepared at once.” He turned to Katya. “If we leave immediately, we should be able to make it to Gretna Green in a matter of hours.”

  Katya nodded in agreement.

  “Wait for us,” Bianca said as she and Natalia rushed for the stairs. “It won’t take but a moment for us to dress.”

  “Did the two of you have anything to do with this?” Malcolm asked, catching Natalia by the arm as she rushed past.

  “No, Papa,” Natalia said, blinking innocently at him. She was a terrible actress.

  “We would never interfere with anything,” Bianca attempted to support her.

  Katya laughed humorlessly. “You’re a terrible liar, my dear, and if anything untoward happens between your brother and Cece, I’ll pack the two of you up and send you off to Peru.”

  “We didn’t do anything, Mama,” Natalia insisted, still doing a poor job of feigning innocence.

  “Get dressed,” Malcolm snapped. “You’re coming with us.”

  Katya turned to him. “Are you certain that’s wise?”

  “Would you rather leave the two of them alone here, to get into who knows what kind of mischief?” he asked.

  “You have a good point,” Katya said, then turned to her girls. “Go. And hurry.” As soon as the girls had scurried up the stairs and slammed the door to their room, Katya turned back to Malcolm. “You realize this is most likely a plot to stop the two of us from parting ways.”

  “Naturally,” Malcolm growled, marching to the door and opening it to peer outside, as if anxious for his carriage to appear. “They can plot all they like, but it won’t work.”

  Try as he did to keep his wits about him, Malcolm’s heart pounded the whole way to Gretna Green. Not out of anxiety for Cece—although if she had found a way to marry Rupert, he would throttle both of them—but because the wild goose chase meant he had a few more hours before Katya walked out of his life for good. He sat silently in the rear-facing seat of his rattling carriage, Natalia by his side, staring at Katya for most of the journey.

  She looked tired, and looking tired made her appear older. At some point in the previous years, she’d developed faint lines around her eyes and across her brow. He’d never noticed them before. Her skin was still fresh, and he knew full well her body was still lithe and limber. It came as a shock to think that he would never again feel the heat of her flesh against his, taste the sweet salt of her skin, or hear the tantalizing sounds she made as she came. Losing those things felt like a monumental loss, but more than that, he wasn’t sure how he would survive without her laughter when he made a joke—or did something foolish—or without her wise counsel when he needed advice.

  He wasn’t going to survive without her. The truth hit him squarely in the heart as the carriage lurched to a stop in front of the old blacksmith’s shop in Gretna Green. He wouldn’t die, not physically, but without her, he could never truly be alive.

  “Are they here?” Natalia asked, sliding toward the door as soon as the driver opened it for her. “They must be here.” Her eager tone hinted that, even if Katya’s girls had known about Cece and Rupert’s mad plan, they didn’t know all of it.

  Malcolm exchanged a knowing glance with Katya before stepping down from the carriage so that he could help her. She took his hand, and once her feet were on the ground, she seemed reluctant to let it go. Perhaps she didn’t truly want to leave him after all. Perhaps there was still a measure of hope.

  “I don’t see them anywhere,” Bianca said, making a quick circle around the carriage and searching in all directions.

  “They should be here somewhere,” Natalia said.

  “They’re still hiding something,” Katya told Malcolm as they started toward the blacksmith’s shop.

  “They’re absolutely hiding something,” Malcolm said. “I’m more convinced than ever this is a plot against us.”

  “Our children? Plotting against us?” Katya said, her voice full of sarcasm.

  Malcolm grinned. He was tempted to find the situation amusing, and would have, if the underlying mood weren’t so dismal. He steered Katya toward the blacksmith, who was hammering away at the
open forge, making a horseshoe.

  “Excuse me,” Malcolm called out. “We’re looking for a foolish young couple who seem to have gotten it into their minds that illicit marriages are still performed here.”

  The blacksmith glanced up and laughed. “We see at least a dozen couples a year laboring under the same false assumption.”

  “This couple would have come by last night,” Katya said. “Rupert Marlowe and Cecelia Campbell. He’s about yay high.” She held her hand six inches over her height, then lowered it to the level of her chin. “And she’s about this tall. She’s blonde with blue eyes and he has brown hair and eyes.”

  “Aye.” The blacksmith nodded, breaking into a grin that resembled Natalia and Bianca’s horrible acting a little too closely. “I know exactly who you’re talking about.”

  Natalia and Bianca stopped scanning the area and leapt over to see what would happen next, their faces shining with excitement. Malcolm arched an eyebrow at Katya. He couldn’t shake the feeling they’d played exactly into Cece’s and Rupert’s hands.

  The blacksmith confirmed as much by saying, “They told me you’d be by. Right on schedule, by their reckoning.”

  “Where are they?” Malcolm growled. His hands itched to wring Rupert’s neck. Although it was just as likely that Cece was the mastermind behind whatever plot they’d hatched.

  “The girl told me to tell you to visit her old nanny,” the blacksmith said.

  Malcolm frowned. “Did they say that Mrs. Elkins would know where they are?”

  The blacksmith shrugged. “All they said was to make sure you knew to go to the nanny’s house.” He chuckled. “That boy paid me a pretty penny to send you there.”

  “Where does this nanny live?” Katya asked, gripping Malcolm’s arm as though he were responsible for the mess instead of the children.

  “Down by the river, I think,” Malcolm said. “Her people are from here. She retired to the area when Cece outgrew having a nanny.”

  “She lives in Esk Cottage,” the blacksmith interrupted. “Head that way—” He pointed off across the green. “—then turn right when you reach the grocer’s. Keep going for a bit, then take the road where the fallen tree is. The cottage is the third house down on the right.”