by Fiona Faris
“Well,” Georgiana added, turning back towards the manor house, “your word is not worth much at the moment. We shall just have to see if it becomes more trustworthy going forward.”
“Ye shallnae be disappointed. I swear it.”
“Actions always speak louder than words.”
Ethan hurried to catch up to her. “What will ye have me do then?”
“Just keep your mouth shut for now and let me handle this. I shall send you to a tailor who will make you some suitable clothes. Can you dance?”
“I beg yer pardon?”
“Can. You. Dance?” Georgiana said very slowly, as if Ethan might be slow.
“Aye.”
“The Cotillion?”
“Uh…”
Georgiana sighed. “Never mind. I shall teach you. I hope you learn fast.”
“That I can do. But honestly, Georgiana, ye dinna want to get mixed up in this chicanery. It willna bode well for ye if’n my faither found out.”
Georgiana stared at him. “Well, then, you shouldn’t have told me.”
Ethan sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Everything I try to do seems to make things worse.”
She watched him, her gaze – and her heart – softening at the sight of his despair. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re not alone anymore. You have me.”
He opened his eyes and covered her hand with his. His face brightened as he smiled. “Aye, I suppose I do.”
* * *
“Your by-blow has left,” Lachie said, barging into the laird’s study. Barclays looked up, his eyebrow raised.
“How d’ye ken that?”
“His hovel is empty. His belongings are gone.”
“Did you ask his neighbors where he might be?”
“Ha. As if they would tell me. They coddle him as if he were a bairn.”
“Aye, that’s so.” Barclays stood up. “Weel, maybe they wouldna tell ye, but they will certainly tell me.”
Lachie frowned. “Why d’ye even want to ken where he went off to? Good riddance, I say.”
Barclays did not bother to reply, but simply walked out of the room, took up his coat, and went to investigate.
* * *
Georgiana was preparing herself for dinner when there was a soft knock at the door, and her mother poked her head through with a smile. “May I come in?”
Georgiana put down her hairbrush. “Of course, mother.” She smiled, turning in her seat, so she was facing her mother, and waited. She was pretty sure she knew what her mother wanted to talk about.
“So, what do we think of the young lord?”
Georgiana felt her cheeks coloring. She and her mother had a very close relationship. To lie to her went against everything Georgiana believed in, but to tell her the truth was to involve her in a conspiracy she need not be part of.
“I like him,” she added truthfully.
The duchess lifted a surprised eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yes. He is a good man with a good heart. I think we shall be happy together.”
The duchess took a deep breath. “Well…that is a relief to hear. I fear, however, that he might not be as…well off…as previously believed. Are you sure you can live like that? I can speak to your father to increase the size of your dowry?”
Georgiana opened her mouth to refuse but then thought again. Ethan was essentially a pauper. It would not hurt to have more of a nest egg.
“That might not be a bad idea, mother. Perhaps we could buy a property in Scotland to reside in; I don’t think I want to live with my in-laws.”
The duchess smiled. “And your husband would consent to that?”
Georgiana smiled. “I think that he would. He confided in me that he has no liking for his father.”
Her mother could not quite conceal her surprise. “He’s confiding in you already? You just met!”
Georgiana clutched her arm excitedly. “I know, mother. It’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is a little unusual. Why do you think he feels so free with you?”
Georgiana closed her eyes. “He just…there was this connection between us, it thrummed like a live thing when we talked. I think he felt it too. I felt drawn to him, and yet at the same time, I could feel him holding back. I asked him not to, that if we were to be together, we needed to be forthcoming with each other.”
Georgiana opened her eyes, relieved that she had managed the conversation without lying to her mother.
“And he simply went along with you?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Did he tell you about his finances and why he arrived here with just one servant and a threadbare wardrobe?”
Georgiana exhaled deeply, her mother would know if she outright lied. “Yes, he told me that there were some debts…”
The duchess looked thoughtful. “Ah, I see. That would explain their interest in you. It felt a little too good to be true for them to want you just for an association with a duchy.”
“Oh, thank you, mother; I feel so desirable now,” Georgiana added drily.
Her mother hastened forward, putting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “You know what I mean, don’t you?” her voice was low and gentle as she peered anxiously into Georgiana’s eyes.
“I know. What Viscount Ashness did…it was designed to make me a pariah. And I suppose he mostly succeeded. But the joke is on him because Ethan is a good man.”
The duchess frowned, “Ethan?”
“I’m sorry, I meant Lord Buchanan,” Georgiana corrected herself hastily.
Her mother was still frowning. “Isn’t his name Alasdair? Lachie Alasdair? And surely you are not already on first-name terms?”
Georgiana swallowed nervously. “I-it’s a nickname that his friends call him. H-he likes to go incognito sometimes, to get away from being a lord and simply mingle with the locals. His friends call him Ethan.”
“He surely did tell you a lot about himself.”
“Yes, mother, he did. That’s why I say, I think we are a good match.”
The duchess nodded. “Alright then, my dear, if you want this man, I shall support you. Your father shall meet him at dinner, and you know he has different standards than you. He will want more than to know that you are compatible with each other.”
Georgiana took a deep breath and clutched her mother’s arm. “Mama,” she whispered, “Grandma Victoria did leave me that inheritance that is to mature upon my marriage. Can we not use it to spruce Lord Buchanan up a bit?”
“Calm yourself, child. Let us just play it by ear and see how dinner goes?”
Georgiana nodded, but at the same time, her heart sank. There was no way that Ethan would live up to her father’s exacting standards.
* * *
“Would ye tie this cravat for me please, Fergus.”
His friend came and fumbled with the silk kerchief around his neck, tieing it into a fancy knot before tucking it into his jacket. The azure silk of the cravat made his blue eyes shine. Fergus had neatly combed and plaited his ginger hair into a cue and tied it with a white ribbon. He dabbed white powder on his nose to hide Ethan’s freckles and then helped him on with a blue coat.
The tailor had made him two suits, the brown, for daytime while the blue was for fancier occasions such as this dinner. Georgiana was right though, now that he thought about it; it was a very inadequate wardrobe. His host would be expecting better of him.
Ethan sighed, thanking his lucky stars that Georgiana had decided to go along with this deception, whatever her reasons. He had not told Fergus about their conversation in the grove. All his friend knew was that they had got on reasonably well.
That is all he needs to know.
Ethan was afraid that if Fergus knew what Georgiana had offered, he might get greedy. Fergus had proved to be a good friend, but Ethan could not afford to forget that the seaman was in this for profit as well.
They strolled towards the dining hall as soon as the gong sounded for dinner
. Ethan’s shoes pinched him slightly, but he was determined not to show it. He was met at the entrance to the dining hall by the butler, who proceeded to guide him inside and seat him down just on the right of the head of the table. There was a tall distinguished gentleman already seated at the head, in addition to the duchess and Georgiana seated opposite Ethan and Fergus. All three got to their feet as soon as the guests were shown into the room.
Ethan tried to smile, feeling his heart quake as Georgiana’s father looked at him as if he were dirt under his shoe.
Chapter Six
“My apologies. I was not at home earlier. We received no advance notice of your imminent arrival.” His brow beetled as he stared intently at Fergus and Ethan, “It is most strange,” he added ominously.
Ethan’s throat felt parched.
“I…uh, it was a spur of the moment decision to ride out early. As you know, we meant to come in the spring,” he stopped, favoring them with a guileless smile, “But I grew impatient to meet my bride of whom I have only heard good things. I have to say that what I heard did not do her justice.” He stared at Georgiana, letting his admiration shine through his eyes.
She gave him a small smile and a slight nod of approval, and he breathed a little easier.
“I do apologize if I have inconvenienced you in any way with my spontaneity.” Ethan bowed to the duke. He knew that convention allowed for any such inconvenience, and they could readily accept his presence.
“It is no inconvenience; I do assure you. And I understand that my daughter is pleased that you are here.”
To his surprise, he saw Georgiana nod quite firmly to that. Her father sighed, looking away. “Shall we eat then?” he asked, gesturing to the seats. As they were seated, a procession of servants brought in the soup and bread. Ethan was so happy that Fergus had seen fit to give him lesson on how the wealthy dined because he had never eaten at the big house when at home or partaken in any meal of this rank. He ate sparingly, his stomach churning with nerves as he tried to keep track of the conversation.
Georgiana was telling her parents of their walk in the grove and their decision to have a quick ceremony. It was essential the marriage happened quickly, and they left, in case Lachie should be inspired by empty pockets to make the journey earlier.
Ethan realized he had not thought where they might live or how they would manage once they were married. Ethan knew that his father had a mortgage on the house to pay for his wife’s attendance of the season, farm tools and whatever luxuries they absolutely could not live without. If they were unable to pay, then maybe, Daltern might go to auction?
If that happened, would I really purchase it, using Lady Bellingwick’s money?
He thought about Mrs. Campbell and Maisie McDonald, as well as all the other hardworking crofters who depended on that land. Did they really deserve to have their future uncertain just because Lachie and his father wanted to live a certain way?
He fantasized about walking into the bank and offering to buy the mortgage. He thought about going to his father and saying, “This is my hame, the noo. Ye have to pack yer things and get oot.”
Ethan almost smiled at the thought. But then he looked at the duke, who was staring at him with narrowed eyes, straightened his spine, and focused on making a good impression.
* * *
“I think that went well,” Georgiana whispered to Ethan as he escorted her to the music room. Her parents walked behind them, just far enough away to give them room for a private conversation.
“Ye think so?” Ethan cast her a cynical glance, “I dinna think yer faither likes me verra much.”
She giggled at his sour expression and was tempted to lean into him, maybe reach out a hand and pinch his cheek. “He just feels guilty because this situation was revenge against him from a bitter acquaintance. He would not like anyone willing to take me on. He’s merely suspicious of your motives.”
“As he should be,” Ethan murmured, which almost made her laugh out loud.
“Indeed. But try to act less guilty, alright?”
“Aye, mam.” He glanced down at her, blue eyes intent, “Anything to get ye to the altar.”
There was a thrum of…something intense beneath his words and Georgiana found herself coloring. For the first time it occurred to her that a wedding was not the end but the beginning of something. After that, there were…events that were expected to happen. It seemed as though Ethan was thinking of them too.
She drew a deep and shaky breath, long lashes sweeping downward to hide her expression. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“I mean that since I met ye, I have felt this…easing in my breast. As if I was home at last. I apologize if that is a very forward thing to say.”
Georgiana felt her own heart speed up. “I…I’m sure it’s not too forward. I really wouldn’t know.”
“Oh, aye? Are ye not used to speaking with men?”
Georgiana shook her head, feeling the familiar twist of shame and anguish curdle in her belly. “I have not had much opportunity to do so.”
“Ye mean…since ye were…compromised?”
Georgiana looked earnestly into Ethan’s eyes. “He didn’t touch me, I swear it. I am still pure. All he did was lure me into the dark, alone with him, and forced me to kiss him. It was only a moment. People drew their own conclusions!”
Ethan’s mouth twisted bitterly. “As they always do. Dinna fash. I am not consairned with the purity of yer body, only with that of yer heart. And in that sense, ye are driven snow – untouched and unblemished by the cruel smudges of despair or cynicism.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened as she listened to him, surprised at the intricacy of his thoughts. “I am betrothed to a philosopher and poet.” His eyes brightened with understanding and delight.
“Does tha’ surprise ye? Ye were expectin’ some country yokel were ye no?”
Georgiana shrugged. “I mean…you do come from Scotland.”
“I thought it was Ireland that ye Sassenachs call the urinal of planets,” Ethan said with a raised eyebrow and a wry twist of his lips.
Georgiana let out a bark of surprised laughter before covering her mouth with mortification as she flicked her eyes behind them to where her parents were hovering just out of earshot. “Oh you know we are equally bigoted be it Scots or Irish.” The grin hadn’t quite faded from her lips, and she saw his eyes drop to them, hooded with an emotion she could not quite identify.
Her chest tightened, and she bit her lip, lifting her eyes to his when he gave a small gasp. His eyes were still fixed intently on her lips, and she guessed that he was…affected by them in some way. Her tongue ran nervously along her bottom lip, and he let out a deep sigh.
She felt as if she had him in the palm of her hands, and an unexpected wave of power surged through her.
“Georgiana?” her mother’s voice broke the tension between them, much to the girls' disappointment, and her head whipped round to stare at her mother in surprise. For a moment, she had forgotten they weren’t alone.
“Ye-yes, mother?”
“Won’t you play something for us?” her mother gestured toward the piano.
“O-of course.” Georgiana stumbled slightly as she moved to obey, and Ethan’s hand whipped out to steady her, clasping her arm tightly. Her father cleared his throat and Ethan immediately let go. She floundered toward the piano stool, her head reeling with emotions she could not quite grasp, and, closing her eyes, she took a deep steadying breath, catching sight of her father coming to a stop beside Ethan before she turned her attention to the music.
* * *
“She is quite accomplished.”
Ethan jumped a little, not having expected the duke to speak to him.
“Aye, she is.”
“I don’t want you to assume that just because we agreed to your suit that we are desperate to get rid of her, no matter what.”
“I would never think that. I know I am the lucky one here. Yer daughter is a treasure.”
> The duke nodded firmly. “That she is.”
“And I shall look after her all the days of her life, I swear to ye. I shall make sure she never goes hungry and always has a place to rest.”
The duke narrowed his eyes at Ethan. “You had better, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I understand. I would expect no less.”
