A Scottish Lord for Christmas

by Lauren Smith

  She believed this and ignored the dark little whispers at the corners of her mind. She relished the challenge of mending his broken heart. The romantic deep inside of her craved winning his love and knowing she’d helped him. Because, if she was being honest, he was an easy man to love, and she knew with certainty it was only a matter of time before she fell in love with him.

  After a minute, she’d walked to the bathroom and rang for the maid to draw her a hot bath as Quinn had suggested. While she waited for the maid to arrive, she sat at the small desk in her room and wrote a hasty letter to Milly. She knew her sister would be concerned about her own wedding, but she hoped Milly would be happy that she, too, was to be married.

  A young maid entered as Rowena blotted her letter and got up from the desk.

  “Supper is at six, miss.” The maid turned the taps on in the bath and tested the water with one hand while she talked. Rowena listened, but her mind was distant. Thoughts of the future already formed from the nebulous clouds of her daydreams. She was to be the Countess of Forres. And she was to be a mother to a darling child. She would be living with a man who needed her and a daughter who needed her. She couldn’t stop smiling as she climbed into the bath and soaked her cold muscles.

  Two hours later, she was feeling refreshed and warm as she donned one of her favorite gowns. She had to look perfect tonight because she didn’t want Quinn to regret proposing to her. The train was embroidered with gilt-colored peacock feathers, and black beadwork accented the blue bodice. It was one of her post-court presentation gowns, which she’d worn only once before. The last time she’d walked into a room wearing this gown, every man had gazed at her with longing and every woman with envy. Tonight, she cared only about Quinn.

  Rowena checked her bodice carefully, tugging at the slightly risqué neckline before she pulled on her sapphire-blue silk elbow-length gloves. The young maid behind her worked in concentrated silence on her hairstyle before adding a headpiece. A trio of feathers made of white gold and diamonds was tucked securely in the back of her coiffure like a Spanish comb.

  “The gentleman will be speechless.” The maid smiled.

  “I look presentable, then?” she teased the maid. They were close in age and Rowena was never shy about making friends, no matter their social status.

  “Oh yes, miss. Like as not, they’ll forget all about dinner when they see you.”

  “Good.” Rowena rose from the vanity table and tweaked her gloves before exiting the chamber.

  This time she would face the main stairs alone. No Milly would be there to guide her. She was on her own.

  I ought to get used to this if I am to be mistress of my own house in a few months.

  A flutter of nerves stirred like restless bees in her stomach at the thought. She paused at the top stair and looked down. The party had shrunk to six: Leo; Ivy; Ivy’s father, Mr. Leighton; and the dowager countess. And then there was Quinn, of course. All of the guests were gathered at the foot of the stairs. Quinn was deep in discussion with Mr. Leighton. He cut a dashing figure in his black evening dress suit. The white pique shirt and black trousers were perfectly pressed and he wore a white tie. It was the costume of a gentleman, but his dark hair was a tad long and ruffled, as though he’d gone riding upon the open moors before dressing for dinner.

  Rowena took a moment to drink in the sight of him. This handsome Scottish lord was to be hers, just in time for Christmas. A silly smile curved her lips as she watched Quinn throw his head back in laughter at something Mr. Leighton said. The two men clapped each other’s shoulders in a warm gesture before talk quieted. Quinn turned toward the stairs.

  Her heart gave a little flip in her chest when their eyes met.

  Hunger darkened his silver eyes as she descended the stairs and drew closer to him.

  He will love me. I know he will. She would win her future husband’s heart. It was a promise she would do anything to keep.

  Chapter 5

  Asking for a father’s permission to marry should not be difficult.

  Quinn had done this once before. Yet, as he sat across from the stern-faced Viscount Pepperwirth after dinner that evening, he was tempted to squirm like a young boy who’d been caught stealing hot biscuits in the kitchens.

  “You said you wished to speak with me about my daughter?” The man raised a brow, his hands steepled contemplatively before him.

  Quinn inched forward in his seat. “Yes, my lord. About Miss Rowena.”

  Lord Pepperwirth snorted. “Thank God it’s not Milly you’re after. We’ve only just settled her with that Hadley fellow.” Pepperwirth rolled his eyes and Quinn sensed that there was a story he wasn’t fully aware of.

  “So, Rowena…” Pepperwirth waved a hand for him to continue.

  Lord, Rowena’s father wasn’t making this easy.

  “I’ve spoken to her this past evening. With your blessing, I should like to marry her in a month’s time.”

  Lord Pepperwirth did not react for several long seconds. Instead he closed his eyes, then opened them again after a while. The grandfather clock in the corner of the study ticked away, marking the seconds of silence.

  “Rowena has agreed?”

  “Aye.” Quinn nodded, his palms slightly sweaty. He rubbed them on his trousers. This was not going well.

  “You have a title, Lord Forres, and a well-run estate, so I’m told. You also have a child from your first wife, correct?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Pepperwirth silenced him with a hand. “You’ve known my daughter all of three days before you proposed. Any father who loved his child would have to question a suitor’s motives under such circumstances.”

  Balling his fists, Quinn growled softly as he leaned forward in his chair. “If you are questioning my honor and my intentions, my lord, then know that I have not and would not do anything to the lass that I should not.”

  Pepperwirth stood firm in the wake of Quinn’s attitude, where weaker men had run scrambling for the hills.

  “Then tell me, Lord Forres, do you love my daughter? I do not agree to part with my youngest child unless I am assured she will be loved. You will understand once your own child is facing suitors and you sit where I do. Rowena’s happiness is what matters to me.”

  “Then you must ask her why she agreed to marry me.” Quinn was on his feet, scowling down at Rowena’s father.

  “Sit down, Forres. I’m not arguing with you. I’m merely trying to ascertain the situation.” Pepperwirth leaned back in his chair, a knowing glint in his eyes that made Quinn’s skin prickle as he sat back down.

  “So you do not love my daughter. Why ask for her hand, then?”

  This time it was Quinn who shut his eyes. How could he tell this man what was in his heart when he barely understood himself? He wanted Lord Pepperwirth to understand that he would treat Rowena with respect and affection, but he wasn’t sure he could love again. Blowing out a slow breath, he faced Rowena’s father and spoke the truth.

  “She is not like other women. There is a compassion in her, a love for my child, a bairn she does not even know, and though she is young, she is intelligent. I find much that pleases me in her smile, the way she laughs, and how when she looks at me, I do not feel…” His throat constricted but he continued. “I do not feel so broken.” It was true, this sudden realization. Rowena made him forget the past. She blocked it out, made him feel new and not burdened with things that had broken his spirit a year ago.

  Lord Pepperwirth pushed his chair back and rose, holding out a hand to Quinn.

  “Very well, you have my blessing. If this is truly what Rowena wishes, then I agree. We have plans to marry my eldest, Milly, to Hadley in three weeks. Would you and Rowena mind waiting until early December to be married? That would give me time to settle her dowry and for you to make your own preparations in Forres.”

  Quinn shook Pepperwirth’s hand. “That would be suitable. I’ll escort my daughter home and return in early December. I trust you will post the b
anns for us.”

  “Yes, of course,” Pepperwirth said as he walked around the edge of his desk and escorted Quinn to the door. “You may tell Rowena you have my blessing. No doubt she’ll wish to prepare a trousseau and see to the remaining wedding arrangements.”

  “Thank you.” Quinn departed from the study and nearly stumbled into his fiancée.

  “Quinn!” She grinned, her bright eyes twinkling. “How did it go? What did he say?” She looped her arm into his so casually that he thought for a moment she’d been doing it for years. Her pleated skirts swirled as she kept pace with him while they walked.

  “It went well. We are to wait until early December for the wedding. I must go. I have to make all the necessary preparations. You can manage the rest here, can you not?”

  Rowena’s smile faded. “Oh, well, yes, I can. Will you be gone long?”

  He was going to crush that endearing hope in her eyes, but it wasn’t to be helped. He had business to see to in Scotland and preparations to make for his new bride. And he needed some time to adjust to this new development in his life. The past few days they’d become too…close for his liking. He needed to firm up his walls, defend himself, or else the blue-eyed sprite would crumble his resolve to keep his emotional distance.

  “Unfortunately, I won’t return until a day before the wedding. There is much to be done.” He paused at the front door, where a butler already stood waiting with his coat and hat.

  She was watching him with a hesitant and hopeful look that tore at his frozen heart.

  “Quinn, could you not come a few days sooner?” Her voice was soft and a little husky with emotions she was valiantly trying to bury.

  It would be so much easier for them both if she hadn’t fallen in love with him…but she had. He could see it shining from the depths of her too-blue eyes.

  “Perhaps,” he answered. “But do not depend on it. I’ve been away from Forres too long and…” He let the butler help him into his coat and then he settled his hat upon his head. A motorcar was waiting to take him back to Hampton House, where he would retrieve Blair and Mrs. Finch and travel to the train station.

  “Quinn.” Rowena’s whisper was a gentle plea he could not ignore. Without a care to the butler standing only a few feet away, Quinn cupped Rowena’s face with one hand and captured her lips. He intended the kiss to be sweet and chaste…but as always, Rowena’s taste exploded upon his tongue and robbed him of his good sense. The kiss turned hungry between them, nearly burning through him like an out-of-control fire. Damn, the woman was nigh impossible to resist.

  Only after a delicate cough from the butler did he finally break away from Rowena. Her lips were a little swollen from his kiss and she was smiling again. That was what he wanted. Only smiles. Brushing his thumb over her lips, he whispered a murmured goodbye and fled, in the most gentlemanly fashion, to the waiting motorcar.

  Time away is what I need. Time enough to remember that my own wants and needs must come second. This is to be a marriage of convenience, not of love.

  * * *

  Rowena fingered the fine lace of her wedding gown as she waited for her grand entrance into the chapel in the small parish of Hampton. Had it only been two months since she had agreed to marry Quinn? So much had happened between then and now. She’d watched her sister marry Mr. Hadley and leave for his estate in the Cotswolds. The only thing that had eased the ache of knowing she and Milly were facing separate lives was the fact that she had a new family now, one that would be hers forever.

  “Rowena, love, are you truly ready for this?” Her father’s blue eyes were dark with emotions he usually hid. A glint of tears was there, too, and seeing that made her own eyes burn.

  “I’m ready, Papa. I love him. I did not know I could fall so fast, nor so hard, but I have.” She blinked away tears. “He needs me. I have to save him.” It was so hard to tell her father what lay in her heart. There was a wild jumble of emotions that made little sense to her. She only knew that loving Quinn was her destiny and that she had to heal that dark, bruised, and broken part of his soul he was determined to hide from her.

  Her father smiled sadly. “Always my brave little child, aren’t you?” He pressed a kiss to her temple and then held out his arm. “The music is playing. I believe it’s time.”

  The doors opened in front of them and she was met with crowded rows of pews on both sides. Friends and family were peering back at her with smiles as she began to walk forward. A cold breeze from outside followed her along the middle aisle, stirring the red rose petals covering the aisle to the altar. They looked like red blood, and Rowena had the strangest sense that it was somehow an omen of her future.

  I’m not afraid.

  She raised her eyes from the fallen petals to the altar. Quinn stood at the front of the church. He wore a lovely red tartan kilt and a dress coat. It was the first time she’d really seen his legs, the muscled calves a sign of the strength he’d also hidden. He waited for her now, like a Celtic warrior of old, to claim her as his bride. Rowena’s steps quickened but her father gently and firmly made her keep a reasonable pace when she would have sprinted straight to Quinn.

  When she finally reached her fiancé, she offered him a smile. The priest stood between them, speaking the words of the ceremony. She had to focus on her breathing as they exchanged vows and Quinn placed a gold band on her finger. At that simple, yet so crucial touch, her skin tingled with a muted warmth, like long hours spent drowsy and half awake beneath a pile of woolen blankets when she slept in. It was a happy sensation, one that comforted her beyond measure. Quinn murmured his vows, his silver eyes sharp on her face as he focused entirely on her.

  And then he was kissing her. She felt rooted to the ground, yet floating at the same time. It was a delicate kiss, as though she were brushing her lips against the downy feathers of one of her mother’s fans. The memory filled her with a bittersweet ache as she kissed Quinn. He was her husband now, and she would make new memories in her new home.

  “Are you all right?” Quinn’s whisper ran over her skin like silk. He wrapped one strong arm around her waist and held her close.

  “Yes, thank you.” She sniffed and blinked, forcing a smile upon her lips. “I just realized I will miss my home.”

  The gray of Quinn’s eyes softened, like the undercoat of a mourning dove. “You will make Forres your home now. Whatever you wish to do, I can arrange. I want you to be happy, Wife.” He gave her waist a soft pat and he smiled that winning grin that assured her she would have a chance to make him happy too.

  As the priest pronounced them married, they descended the steps and walked down the aisle arm in arm. There had been a wedding breakfast before the ceremony, a little unusual, but Quinn had wished to leave almost immediately. He’d returned to England with his own car just in time for the wedding, making the long journey alone. Together, they would drive all day to reach Edinburgh by night, where they would stay at an inn before completing the journey to Forres.

  Rowena and Quinn climbed into the carriage, which took them from the church to Pepperwirth Vale; there they would change into their travel clothes. Milly and Owen were among the first to greet them upon returning from the church. At the sight of her, Rowena ran toward her, her throat tight.

  “Milly!” she gasped, hugging her sister, uncaring of the delicate fabric of her wedding gown. All of a sudden, a sob tore through her throat and she buried her face in Milly’s neck.

  “There, there, Rowena, I’m here.” Milly ushered her inside to a parlor where they could be alone to talk. The men did not follow them and Rowena sagged in relief. She didn’t want Quinn to see her like this.

  “Tears on your wedding day? Come now, Rowena, dear. What’s the matter?” her sister teased, and held out a handkerchief.

  “Oh, Milly. I shouldn’t be so silly, but I can’t seem to…” Rowena dabbed at her eyes with the cloth and sighed as she collapsed into the nearest armchair.

  “Owen says Forres is a good fellow. Is that not
the case?” Her sister knelt on the floor beside her, peering at her intensely.

  “It isn’t that. I am afraid to leave home. Did you feel that way?”

  Milly laughed, a soft twinkle in her eyes. “I did. I remember looking back at the house as we drove away and thinking of how awful it was. But then we reached Owen’s house and…it was love at first sight. The place was in need of many repairs, but I loved that I would be making it my home as I fixed it up. Don’t be afraid to do that with your new home. Embrace it all with excitement.”

  Her sister was right. Of course she was. Rowena dried her eyes and handed the damp handkerchief back to Milly.

  “Are you and Owen happy now? I know that you despised him and that you didn’t want to marry him.” She didn’t want to resurrect her sister’s pain, but she needed reassurance that things would get better.

  A lovely, dreamy-eyed expression took over Milly’s face. “He was the last man on earth I would have married, but now…I can’t imagine life without him.”

  Rowena stared at Milly in shock. Her sister had always been vocal about her views on men and marriage. Yet here she was, smiling and almost giddy over a man. If marriage made Milly happy, maybe it would do the same for her and Quinn. She desperately hoped so. All she wanted was to win his heart.

  Rowena rose from the chair and embraced her sister again. Ever since she was a child, hugging Milly had always been a comfort to her. The bond they shared was invisible but unbreakable.

  “I wish you were coming with me to Scotland. I’ve never been on my own before.”

  Her sister pinched her cheek playfully. “That won’t stop you, Rowena. You forget I know you. Anyone who meets you wants to be your friend. Once you reach Forres, you’ll make friends. You’ll build a life, and Owen and I shall visit you.”

  Rowena swallowed thickly. “Promise?”

  Milly held out a pinkie finger. “Promise.”

  They linked their fingers, giving them a little shake the way they’d done countless times growing up.