by Fiona Faris
The duke continued to stare at him for a while, and Ethan let him. He knew this was a test and he was determined to pass it. Finally, the duke nodded. “I am glad we understand each other.”
“We do.”
They both turned away to watch Georgiana at the piano.
* * *
A knock at the door woke them up early the next morning. Fergus got up to open the door, peering out to see a maid waiting on the other side.
“My lady requests that you prepare to go out at once.”
“Huh? Why?” Fergus asked.
“The tailor is waiting.”
“Tailor?” Fergus frowned.
Ethan came to the door and opened it wider, “Thank ye. We shall be ready shortly.”
Fergus opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Ethan shushed him. “I shall tell ye on the way.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were riding out in the bitter cold of the morning with Georgiana and her maid.
“Mrs. Charleston is a renowned seamstress. She is also very discreet. All the nobles go to her for clothes for their mistresses.” Georgiana said.
Ethan snorted, “And how d’ye ken that?”
Georgiana looked at Misty, “My lady’s maid is good friends with the maid of our neighbor’s mistress.”
Ethan burst out laughing. “I do swear…noblemen are all sick in the heid.”
Georgiana smiled, “I suppose it must seem that way.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
“My parents have been in love with each other for thirty years,” Georgiana explained.
“And ye ken that for sure?”
“Yes, I do. When Misty told me about the neighbor, I made it my business to find out if my father had ever-” she cut herself off, turning away as her face colored.
Ethan sobered, studying her keenly, “I can see why ye would want to ken, …especially after what happened to ye.”
Georgiana nodded rather jerkily, reaching up to wipe a tear from her eye. “It’s difficult to trust in the goodness of anyone when something like that happens.”
“And now ye ken that ye can at least trust yer parents.”
“Yes.” Georgiana turned back to face him, her eyes slightly red.
“Ye can trust me too. I assure ye, I have no mistresses.”
It was Georgiana’s turn to laugh quietly. “Probably because you can’t afford one.”
Ethan chuckled. “Aye, there is that.”
Fergus and the maid were watching them with wide eyes. Undoubtedly the conversation did not make sense to them. Ethan shrugged inwardly. Fergus knew what he needed to, and if he hadn’t already, he would guess that he had told Georgiana at least part of why they were here.
The carriage drew up in front of a one-story building. There was no sign outside the doorway, but someone answered Georgiana’s knock in a very short time. The woman smiled and curtsied, moving aside for Georgiana to pass. The rest of the party followed her as she walked into what might formerly have been the parlor but was now converted into a sewing room, judging by the benches filled with bolts of cloth and the sewing equipment on the table.
“Good morning, my lady. It is good to see you again. What can I do for you?”
Georgiana looked at Ethan. “I need you to make him look like a gentleman.”
Mrs. Charleston looked across at Ethan. “Mmm. Not bad. He has the looks and the straight-backed pride. All he needs is the right clothes.”
“Exactly my thoughts.”
Four pairs of eyes scrutinized Ethan, and he squirmed in discomfort.
“I agree,” Fergus added, and Ethan narrowed his eyes at his friend. He expected the lady’s maid to ask why Ethan even needed clothes, but she kept her own counsel.
“Let me just get my measuring string, and we shall get to work.” Mrs. Charleston said.
Ethan said nothing.
* * *
He squirmed in his seat on the way home, having had Mrs. Charleston’s hands upon parts of his body he was sure had never known any other hand but his own. Georgiana stared out of the coach window, a smile of satisfaction on her face.
“If anyone asks, I took you out for a tour of the town,” she said suddenly, startling Ethan.
“That’s a good thought. Is anyone likely to ask?”
Georgiana shrugged. “My father seems to have accepted you, but I cannot really tell.”
“Oh, aye? What a happy thought.”
“It’s better than open hostility, trust me. Whatever you said to him while I played at the pianoforte last night seemed to ease him greatly.” She turned her sharp grey eyes upon him, “What did you say?”
Ethan shrugged. “I have no idea. We hardly spoke. He merely asked if I meant to take care o’ ye, and I said I did.”
“Is that all?”
“Oh, aye.”
“Hmm,” Georgiana turned back to the window.
“What does that mean? Speak to me, Lady Bellingwick.”
“I just…it seems strange that he would believe you so easily. It’s not like him. He’s always going on about how if he were not here to protect us, mother and I would be taken in by the nearest Abram cove.”
Ethan laughed. “I doubt very much that anyone could put one over ye.”
Georgiana turned, smiling at him. “Why thank you, kind sir.”
Ethan bowed, “Ye’re welcome, my lady.”
They stared at each other, gradually forgetting where they were, or that they were not alone. Georgiana’s lips parted, and Ethan leaned closely toward her. Their eyes locked and something passed between them.
The lady’s maid cleared her throat loudly, and Georgiana jumped back. “Uh…” she looked around in confusion, “S-sorry.”
“No, my lady, it is I who should apologize. I dinna ken why I did that.”
Georgiana waved her hand. “Let us forget it, for now.”
Ethan met her eyes. “Aye…for now.”
Chapter Seven
Barclay Alasdair Buchanan walked into his son’s chambers, his face solemn. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand, which he thrust forward at Lachie.
“Our first payment to the bank is due in twenty days, Lachie. Yer bachelor days are over. Ye need to get to England and marry that girl. I managed to delay the bank manager for a while, but he willna wait forever. He certainly willna wait until the spring.”
Lachie sighed. “The weather’s turnin’. It’ll be winter soon. Are ye certain we canna wait?”
“D’ye want to spend the winter out in the cold with no roof o’er our heads?”
“O’ course not da. But-”
“No buts. Prepare for yer journey. We leave in a week.”
“Yes, da.”
* * *
Mrs. Charleston did the impossible and had two suits of clothing delivered the next day. Her messenger brought them to the back door where Georgiana’s maid collected them and brought them to the suite of rooms where Ethan and Fergus were staying.
“So, are ye going to explain why yer bride is buying ye clothes?”
Ethan avoided his eyes. He could already hear the accusation in Fergus’ voice. “I tol’ her the truth.”
“I beg yer pardon. For a minute there, I thought ye said ye told her what we’re doing here.”
Ethan inhaled deeply, “I did.”
Fergus crouched down, hands fisted as he glared into Ethan’s face. “And why would ye do that’?”
“I didna intend to, but she knew I was hiding something. She wasna going to go along wi’ me unless I was honest.”
“Ye fool!” Fergus got to his feet and turned away in anger.
“I’m the opposite of a fool. If I hadna told her, she would have left us high and dry. If ye’re worried aboot yer money, I assure ye-”
“The money? What aboot our freedom, eh? If she reports us-”
“She willna. She dinna want to be wi’ Lachie.”
“Oh, and ye’re sure of that, eh? Ye’re willing to risk yer life and yer freedom on
her word?”
Ethan crossed his arms stubbornly. “Aye. I am.”
Fergus stared incredulously at him. “Ye’re serious.”
“Aye.”
Fergus sighed in defeat. “Well, I hope ye ken what ye’re doing, my friend.”
“I do. She willna fail me.”
“Yer faith is rather strong when ye have no evidence.”
Ethan gestured at the clothes, “What d’ye call this?”
* * *
“My lady-”
“No, Misty. I’m not talking about this with you.”
Misty sighed. “Just tell me this isn’t desperation. Tell me you know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing, Misty.”
Misty adjusted the pins on the gown she was measuring. “I can see that you like him, and he certainly has eyes for no one but you when you are together, but the man is here on a lie.”
“Yes, he was in the beginning. But he told me the truth and on the first day too. I trust him.”
“You trust him? You barely know him. He is nothing but a country bumpkin!”
“Don’t call him that Misty. He is a fine man, and he will make a good husband.”
“A good poor husband.”
“I have enough for us both.”
“Your father would have apoplexy if he knew.”
Georgiana twisted around to glare at her lady’s maid. “Well, it is a good thing that he doesn’t know, is it not?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Misty added quietly and returned to her pins.
Georgiana turned back to the looking glass with a sigh. “I have to believe in something. In someone, Misty.”
“And you choose him?”
“Yes.” Georgiana gave a deep sigh, “I do.”
* * *
The duchess wanted to call the banns, but Georgiana convinced her it was unnecessary. “Nobody even knows him here, mother. Let us just get this wedding over with, please. A marriage license will be sufficient without the banns. Please do not subject me to further humiliation.”
“Oh darling, that is not what I-”
“I know, mother. I do. But I just want to be married quickly. Then you can put an announcement in all the papers, and everyone will know that I am redeemed.”
The duchess gave her a sad look. “Oh, Georgie…I so wanted you to have a grand wedding.”
“I assure you, mother, I am content. I have a good man, and that is the important thing.”
“Your father has commissioned his steward to write some letters to several nobles who have properties in the area. He is awaiting replies. By the time you arrive in Scotland, you shall have a home.”
Georgiana clutched her mother’s arm in excitement. “I was thinking that for our honeymoon, we could travel. Go to the South of France. What do you think?”
The duchess’ eyes softened. “If that is what you want, then you should do it.”
Georgiana nodded. “It is.”
She failed to point out that being out of the country would also make them harder to find, should the Buchanans come looking.
* * *
“I congratulate you on your formal engagement,” the Duke of Bellingwick raised his chalice to Ethan at the banquet table. The rest of the guests joined him in salute to his daughter and her intended.
“I am happy that we are to be family. I feel blessed to have found such a bride,” added Ethan. He had taken time to win the approval of Georgiana’s close relatives as they arrived for the ceremony. Mrs. Charleston had also outdone herself with his wedding suit of red velvet that somehow did not clash with his ginger hair, but brought out the blue of his eyes.
“It was not an easy decision, and I weighed the advantages and disadvantages carefully. I have come to realize my fortune in making this match because the lady in question has won my heart with her courage, fidelity, astuteness, good humor and fortitude. Though she is from England, she has declared that my home in Scotland will be her new home.”
Everyone cheered and drank wine. Lady Georgiana Bellingwick was well-liked among her close kin, which came as no surprise to Ethan. They were all delighted that she had made such a good match. She even got along with Fergus after his initial suspicions, which also boded well for their future together.
“There is one person who is bound to disapprove, however,” murmured Fergus, to himself. “Perhaps two.”
* * *
On the day of Georgiana’s wedding, the first snow fell over Bellingwick. The ceremony was a quiet affair, just her family and close kin, her future husband, and his squire in the little church attached to the Bellingwick Estate. The marriage contracts had been signed, and barring any challenge, Ethan was her husband.
Love matches might deserve big weddings, but this was a transaction. At least it was in the Duke’s eyes.
"Do you, Alasdair of the House Buchanan, take Lady Georgiana Bellingwick to be your wife?" asked the minister.
"I promise to cherish, to protect, to love."
"Do you, Lady Georgiana Bellingwick, take Alasdair of the House Buchanan, as your husband?"
"I promise to cherish, to protect, to love."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Ethan smiled at Georgiana, leaning in tentatively. She closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time.
The sound of clapping drew them apart, the duke in the front pew watching them with a happy smile.
Georgiana leaned in to whisper in Ethan’s ear. “I think he approves.”
Ethan smiled, “No, I think that he’s just happy that ye’re happy. Should he see a frown on yer face, I’m guessing it would be a different story!”
Georgiana giggled, “I expect so.”
“Well I am happy my potential future demise pleases ye.”
She grinned at him. “No, it’s not like that. But that’s what fathers are for is that not so? To protect you?”
Ethan’s expression turned bitter. “Some fathers.”
After the wedding breakfast, Ethan shook her father’s hand, and her mother whispered a few pleasantries. It wasn’t long before the happy couple climbed into the waiting carriage, and as it drove off, Ethan brushed the snowflakes away that had caught on his brides' eyelashes and hair.
Georgiana always dreamed of a love match, of course. When she was a little girl playing in her nursery with dolls and running around the estate, playing wedding and having babies. It had been a relatively normal childhood, for the only child of a duke. She was even allowed to play with the servants’ children. Georgiana didn’t feel special, even though she learned everything she needed to comport herself like a lady from her governess.
Sarsinghurst castle was an old and stately townhouse in the village of Elmingham, just north of Bellingwick. It had been converted into a castle for hire when the old duke died without heirs. Her father had rented it for them for the next three days before they were ready to set off to London and then sail to the South of France.
The snow was falling rapidly now, covering the dirty streets. When Ethan helped Georgiana from the carriage, the entrance door of the house was opened, and a smiling woman in a brocade dress with a woolen shawl over her shoulders came bustling out to greet them.
She must be the housekeeper, Georgiana thought.
She exclaimed something that Georgiana didn’t quite catch. It might have been congratulations. Her accent was very thick, and she hoped that there was someone else they could speak to as otherwise communication would be a problem. A second carriage drew up which meant Fergus and Misty had arrived with their luggage.
Ethan answered the woman, while Georgiana stood next to him, wrapped tightly in her woolen coat. Her toes were frozen in the thin leather heels she wore for the wedding.
“Mrs. Herriot,” Ethan wrapped an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders to keep her warm.
“Mrs. Herriot, this is Georgiana. My bride.” He grinned proudly, “Georgiana, this is Mrs. Herriot, who will look after us while we are her
e. She’s very excited to meet us.”
Georgiana smiled at the woman, doing her best to look warm when she was freezing cold. She did not see why these introductions couldn’t be done inside where it was warm. Mrs. Herriot embraced the girl warmly, with another flurry of her thick brogue. While Ethan and their servants watched with amused smiles, she bustled Georgiana back into the warmth of the house.
