The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride (8 page)

‘I wouldn’t treat anyone like that.’ On reflection, he wasn’t too sure.

Evidently, Morven was. ‘Oh yes you would. You need someone strong to stand up to you when you think only your way is the right way. Otherwise you would bully them. Oh I’m sure you wouldn’t mean to but you would, believe me. Any recipient needs plenty of determination to defy you.’

‘As you did,’ Fraser said. ‘Therefore?’

‘Why yes…’

He winked and she shook her head—and her finger—at him. ‘Oh no, My Lord Fraser, not me.’

Fraser pulled her down a little and tightened his arms around her so her head was scant inches away from his chest. ‘Why not?’

‘We would not suit.’ Her voice was muffled as she spoke into his shirt. ‘I am too set in my ways.’

He wondered why she was so definite. In one way they were very suitable, both their bodies demonstrated that. His cock was painfully hard and pulsed against its confines. Her nipples stood out and demanded attention. ‘You think so?’ he asked mildly. Dare he ask why, if that were the case, her breathing was uneven and her skin sheened with arousal?

‘I know so, now change the subject,’ Morven said in a tone that indicated the subject was closed as far as she was concerned.

He’d allow her to think that for the moment. ‘As you wish, love.’

Morven glowered at him and he hid his smile. She’d get used to it, eventually. He hoped. He had no intention of changing tack now.

‘So.’ She tapped her lips and stared at him intently. ‘Tell me when you intend to go to Stirling.’

Fraser sighed. Truly Morven was like a terrier with a rat. Although in the circumstances, he supposed it was reasonable. It was her life as well as his they were trying to sort out. ‘Tomorrow. I’ll set off before breakfast, because it is a good three hours’ ride each way.’ Although it didn’t seem as important to him now. He was determined they would be wed, in church with everyone who wanted to be there around them. ‘Then of course I need to find the minister I seek.’

Morven nodded her understanding. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘And how do you propose to do that? I’ll be away all day.’ He admired her intention, after all it was as much about Morven as him, but he didn’t think she would find a way of achieving her goal.

‘I don’t know yet but I will discover a way,’ she said stubbornly.

He really didn’t think she had a chance, but it was Murren who unwittingly helped. As they all sat around the dinner table, before the ladies left Fraser to his whisky—they didn’t pass port in Kintrain unless they had gentlemen visitors who were sticklers for etiquette or strangely didn’t like whisky—Lady Napier coughed delicately. ‘I thought tomorrow Fraser that you wouldn’t mind showing Murren around the estate. There are some pretty rides.’

Fraser cleared his throat, but before he had time to formulate his thoughts Murren rushed into speech. ‘Oh no, please, you’re too kind but no more riding, I beg of you. In fact I would like to spend the day doing nothing, alone. I’m tired, my headaches and I can think of nothing worse than jolting around. I am afraid the journey took more out of me than I thought possible.’

Fraser didn’t think she looked that fatigued, but then he didn’t know her strengths and weaknesses. He bowed. ‘Another time perhaps?’

‘Thank you, yes, as long as the horse isn’t too strong or the path too bumpy for a carriage or… Oh I’m such a weakling.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘Although, I wonder, my lord, do you think you could take Morven instead? There will be plenty of time for me to see around when I am more likely to be alert.’

****

Morven watched her sister dart a glance from Fraser to her and she could have sworn one eyelid dipped briefly before a wan expression fixed on Murren’s countenance. It seemed to her that Murren had been doing it a bit too brown. She night not be the bravest horsewoman, or even slightly intrepid, but she was competent. It was strange their mama hadn’t pulled her up on her statement. Unless of course she wasn’t listening properly? Unlikely, but a possibility, Morven supposed. She turned her attention back to her sister, who essayed a half-smile.

‘Please, my lord. The journey, you know, seemed to last for ever.’

‘Of course,’ Fraser said in a soothing voice. ‘I’m happy to postpone our jaunt.’

Now his mama looked put out and her mama looked furious. Nevertheless, Morven reckoned the duchess could lay most of the blame for that fact at her own door with all the dawdling she’d insisted on as they drove north.

‘As for escorting Lady Morven? An excellent idea if she would like to reacquaint herself with the area?’ Fraser asked before anyone else said anything. ‘Then when Lady Murren feels up to it, I will indeed show her around.’

Murren stood up, swayed very theatrically and put her hand to her head. ‘Thank you,’ she said faintly. ‘If I may be excused, I think I would be better in my room.’ She looked towards her mama. ‘I am exhausted. Mama, could you help me, please?’

Morven bit her lip to stop herself laughing. Whatever Murren was up to, she was play-acting. If her head hurt as much as she said, then she—Morven—was a Dutchman. However, as it was to her benefit, Morven would do all she could to help. ‘I’ll help you, love.’ Morven pushed back her chair. ‘Let Mama enjoy a cose with Lady Senga.’ She stared through narrowed eyes at her sister who blinked.

Murren looked satisfied and not at all worried as she cleared her throat and spoke in a quiet, pitiful voice that set Morven’s nerves on edge. ‘Ah, thank you.’

What is she up to?

‘If you’ll excuse us?’ Morven looked at both mothers and Fraser. The latter stood and bowed. The former looked both cross and rather nonplussed.

‘I suppose so,’ the duchess said with a distinct snap. ‘Though it seems to be somewhat rude to our host.’

‘Not at all, I understand how draining long journeys can be,’ Fraser said smoothly. ‘Lady Morven, I’d like to leave at eight. Is that acceptable?’

‘Fraser,’ his mother’s tone was faintly scandalised. ‘Why not wait until Lady Murren is feeling better? After all, Morven has been here before.’

‘I don’t wish to.’ The look he gave his parent would have stopped a man in his stride, let alone a woman. Senga swallowed, her colour high. The duchess studied the weave of the tablecloth, careful not to make eye contact with anyone.

‘You know best.’ Lady Senga said at last, grudgingly.

‘Exactly. So…’ He turned to where Morven stood arm in arm with her sister. ‘Eight?’

‘You can’t leave so early. It’s not right,’ Senga said rapidly, her composure in place once more. ‘What about breakfast?’

‘I’ll take Lady Morven to the Tea Pot. It’s a quaint little drovers’ inn,’ he added to the room at large. Unnecessary in Morven’s case as he’d taken her there all those years ago.

However, if this was window dressing, Morven guessed she could rely on Fraser to be thorough. She waited to hear what he said next.

‘I need to speak to the landlady anyway. She is insistent she wants me to check the windows.’

‘Really, Fraser, it’s not up to you,’ Lady Senga said crossly. ‘You do too much as it is. Send the factor.’

‘My land, my people,’ Fraser said gently but with a warning note in his tone. ‘I have been away far too long, and they need to be reassured I’m home for good.’

Lady Napier coloured. ‘As you say.’

‘Oh I do.’

The undercurrents were obvious even if it was not clear what they meant. Morven hastened into speech. ‘It sounds interesting, my lord. Eight it is.’ She took hold of Murren and smiled at her mama and Lady Napier. ‘I think the sooner Murren gets some rest the better it will be for her.’ Neither girl spoke again until they were outside the dining room. Murren opened her mouth and Morven shook her head in warning.

After all they had no idea what the acoustics were like, or where servants might be. In silence they made their way to Murren’s room, and Morven closed the door behind them. Murren sank onto the daybed next to the window and sighed.

‘Phew. Thank you for backing me.’ She took the pins out of her hair—blonde and straight as pump water, a complete contrast to Morven’s—and finger combed the tresses that reached to her waist. ‘Why can they not see there is not a spark of interest between the laird and me?’

Morven leaned against the door. ‘They have one end in mind and can not see why it should not be achieved.’

‘Well it can’t, so again I thank you; your help was much appreciated.’ She glanced at Morven from under her lashes. A speculative look that Morven couldn’t decipher. ‘They do seem to have a bee in their bonnets about something.’

Morven had to agree with those statements. She chose not to add that she wondered what her sister was up to as well. ‘My pleasure, but why did you want me to back you? And do not say propriety because that will not wash. There would be a groom or whatever with you. Even Mama isn’t so far gone as to totally ignore such things.’

‘I wager that you won’t have one.’

Morven was inclined to agree with her sister. ‘It seems in their eyes I’m past worrying about,’ she said even though she didn’t think that would be the reason. ‘Don’t forget I was here before and people probably think I’m like another sister to Fraser.’

Murren looked at her quizzically. ‘Hmm, why don’t I believe you? However, that’s as may be.’ She was silent for a moment and then sighed. ‘Look, may I ask you a personal question?’ She stared at Morven intently.

‘I suppose so,’ Morven replied slowly. ‘As long as you accept that you might not get an answer.’ Butterflies took up residence and danced in her stomach as she wondered what Murren was about to ask. Surely not something about her previous visit, or what might happen with regards to Fraser?

‘I’ll take a chance.’

Morven had no illusions over that. Murren might not be as outgoing as her sister or as confident in herself, but she had tenacity and an ability to see things others did not. The butterflies danced even more. ‘Then go ahead,’ she said resignedly.

Murren took up a decanter and poured out two glasses of the watered wine that had been left on the tiny console table next to her seat. She handed one to Morven and held hers up in a silent toast.

‘What is there between you and Fraser Napier?’

Chapter Five

‘So what did you say?’ Fraser asked Morven as she recounted the conversations of the previous evening. He tooled his curricle along the uneven track and expertly wheeled the vehicle and horses around a large boulder in the way. The vehicle rocked from side to side and Morven held on to it, white-knuckled.

They had enjoyed a hearty breakfast at the tiny Tea Pot inn, and now Morven was beginning to wish she hadn’t wolfed down quite so much food. The swaying of the carriage combined with haggis and black pudding made her somewhat queasy.

‘That we were friends before and hoped to be friends again. What more could I say? I could hardly point out that if she were to indeed wed you, it would be over my dead body.’ The horse jibbed at something and the coach slid sideways. She bit back a muffled yelp.

‘Sorry about the rough ride,’ Fraser apologised after a brief glance at her expression. ‘But this will cut a good five or six miles off our journey and believe it or not save a lot of time. The proper road isn’t much better and the hill no more gentle.’

‘If you toss me out I will never forgive you,’ Morven muttered as they slowed for a moment and then picked up speed again. ‘If I die I will haunt you.’

He chuckled. ‘If you die I will let you, and I promise not to wed your sister if you do. Come on now, love, we did worse before.’

‘That was then, this is now. We are older, supposedly wiser and have no idea of our status or our future.’

Fraser considered his reply. Looking at things from Morven’s point of view—something he hadn’t really done in the past—he could understand how frustrated and out of sorts she must be feeling. He slowed the curricle to a walking pace and once he was at a place to draw to a halt did so. Ahead of them the hills and glens stretched out in gentle folds, but he scarcely registered them. His land he loved, and it mattered not one jot at that moment. ‘I’ve not been very fair have I, love?’

She glowered at him. ‘Do not call… Argh, what’s the point? Maybe if I ignore you, then you will stop?’

‘Do not wager on it,’ Fraser advised her. ‘Believe me, love, there is not a chance.’

‘Men,’ she muttered crossly. ‘Always thinking they are correct.’

He laughed. ‘We do come in handy sometimes you know.’

Morven snorted. ‘Really? No do not tell me when,’ she added hastily, before he had a chance to say anything. ‘Just tell me what we are going to do if this visit tells us we are married, be it only here and not in England. How do we progress then?’

‘We’ll find out if and when it happens. I refuse to spend all the drive wondering “what if” about things we have no control over and which may prove not to be.’ He urged the horses on at a steady rate once more.

‘If only I could do the same. But I worry. I hate not knowing who or what I am,’ Morven said passionately. ‘Plus in some strange way I feel it devalues what we had together.’

Had, not have.

‘Did you ever wonder why things went as they did? Both before and after I left?’ he asked curiously.

She shrugged. ‘At first, I kept replaying our last time together. How after we’d…’ she coughed delicately ‘…loved each other, you said that was it. I could not help wonder why I was not good enough for you.’

‘Lord, Morven, it wasn’t like that, I promise you.’ Fraser almost shouted the words. ‘I was trying to be noble. To let you see a bit of the ways of the world before I asked you to tie yourself to me. My nobility lasted until you left and then I thought, no dammit, let me ask her to come with me. And, well you know the rest.’

‘Sadly. How… No I will not get riled again, not now.’ She took three deep noisy breaths. ‘Maybe later to their faces but not yet. Though, Fraser, I want to scream out loud. For my sanity, I told myself to part was for the best. Dammit. Sorry,’ she said in a half-hearted tone. ‘I was determined not to resort to profanities, but hell, how can I not. You were the idiot for not believing me when I said I knew my own mind. They were the villains for not giving us a chance to even have the option to decide what to do. I was the weakling for not fighting for what I wanted. Ah well, it’s time to move forward. I’m sure if I say it often enough it will work. Luckily, there were no repercussions from our activities.’