The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride Page 11

  Alexina clapped her hands in a parody of delight. ‘Oh yes, shall we?’

  Morven shot Fraser a swift glance, obviously noted his wooden expression and smiled sweetly as she put her serviette on the table. ‘Please do, but I’m afraid you must count me out. As my mama will verify, I’m no whist player. Now spillikins, or go fish? They are different things entirely. However, I’m happy to sit and watch.’

  ‘Indeed they are different,’ Alexina said in a supercilious tone, which Fraser had told Morven all those years ago was called, vulgarly, “pan loaf.” ‘Never mind, we can manage without you.’ Alexina turned to Fraser. ‘What say you, my lord?’

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ he said urbanely. ‘If you and Mama wish to play whist I’m confident there are people to oblige. I love spillikins so meanwhile will run the spillikins competition.’

  Someone, he thought it Brogan, bit back a snort and turned it into a cough.

  Did Murren wink as she followed Morven out of the room? He couldn’t be sure, but he smiled in gratitude anyway. After that one swift glance Morven ignored him, his mama frowned, and Alexina snorted, and turned tail without saying any more.

  Once the room was devoid of women Jamie Colquhoun burst out laughing. ‘Spiked her by God and didn’t you do it well.’

  ‘I have a hatred of being manipulated,’ Fraser said levelly. ‘By whoever tries to do so. My mama still needs to remember that. I will of course play whist if you desire it to make up another table.’

  ‘Not at all, my boy,’ Lord Colquhoun said genially. ‘There’s your mama, duchess, the wife and me. Plus Diggle, the minister and his wife and…’ He added up on his fingers and sighed. ‘And?’

  Brogan grinned. ‘The minister won’t play.’ The minister had chosen to take tea with the ladies. ‘His wife will, to be sociable. Plus I think Jamie and Alexina. Jamie because he is better than me and…’ He broke off as presumably he remembered whom he spoke to.

  ‘Alexina to teach her a lesson,’ Jamie finished for him. ‘She might be m’sister but she is also a conniving witch with a tongue like a viper when she’s in that frame of mind. She’s getting above herself these days; thinks one word from her lips and we all kowtow and do as she decrees. Do her good to be thwarted. So, that’s sorted then. Where’s the port and the drams, Fraser? Come on, you’re slacking. And you owe me one.’

  Fraser laughed and got the decanters from the sideboard to put them onto the table. Jamie stubbornly insisted he liked port before his dram, and Fraser was happy to oblige. ‘That I do. Make sure you have a double.’

  Even though the minister wanted to oversee everything Fraser set up the interested couples at two whist tables and took charge of Spillikins, all without upsetting the cleric. No easy thing, as the Reverend Oliphant was somewhat touchy.

  Undercurrents eddied about and made Fraser wary. However, he was adamant in his own mind that he would be in control of the evening. That situation, he decided, would enable him to decide how and when to wind things down and speed his mother’s guests on their way. The sooner the better.

  Alexina was going to be a problem if he wasn’t careful. She seemed to think she had a prior claim over him. Goodness knew why. He had spent very little time in her company, Jamie being more of a friend than her. However, the looks she gave him, the sweetly barbed asides to the other women and the way she touched him at every opportunity put him on high alert. When one hand of whist ended she wandered over to the non-players.

  ‘Oh dear, never mind,’ she said in a very condescending tone, as she spoiled the game by jogging the table. ‘After all, this is for children really. Not played in the highest circles, you know.’ She looked at Fraser from under lowered lashes, as if to try and claim intimacy. ‘When I was in London last season, whist for chicken stakes was all my mama would permit me to play. And of course at Almack’s… Well we all know how perfect that is. Ah I don’t suppose you’ve been?’ she said to Morven who had moved to stand nearby. ‘It is rather exclusive.’

  ‘Almack’s? Perfect?’ Morven said blandly, ignoring the rest of the question. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Oh well,’ Alexina tittered. ‘If you have never attended, I suppose you’d have no idea. It’s very difficult to get vouchers. Only the best are admitted.’

  Fraser waited for Morven’s reply. Instead he heard Murren whisper to Thomasina who stood next to her and who now seemed to be her bosom bow… ‘Then why was she there?’ Thomasina hid her mouth with her hands. Fraser frowned at her and she grinned.

  ‘So, I’ve heard,’ Morven said. ‘I do hope you enjoyed yourself.’

  ‘Well of course.’ Alexina smiled at Fraser, like a wild cat about to strike. ‘I danced with so many people, and met many more. A necessity when you are in London. One must make sure one is able to socialise as one should.’

  ‘I’ve never felt that myself,’ Fraser said and turned to Morven. ‘What say you?’

  She shrugged. ‘I think I’m the exception to the rule. Almack’s bores me rigid.’

  Alexina stared at her. ‘My mama would never let me be so eccentric in London. However, here?’ She smiled at Fraser, who decided she looked even more like a wild cat about to pounce.

  ‘It’s so kind of you to accommodate people’s whims, my lord.’ Alexina laughed softly. ‘However peculiar.’ Then she turned to Morven who had collected the spillikins in one hand, and watched the exchange with a faint smile. ‘His lordship does pander to his guests’ foibles.’

  Morven straightened and looked every inch of a duke’s daughter. Fraser wondered if Alexina had forgotten that in fact Morven and Murren were of a higher rank than her.

  ‘Oh I know,’ Morven said in such an aristocratic voice Murren changed a chuckle into a cough. Fraser didn’t disguise his grin. Alexina obviously didn’t see the irony in her words.

  ‘After all, he could have made you listen to me playing the harp.’

  ‘But you don’t play the harp,’ Murren said in a puzzled voice. ‘Monsieur Le Blanc said you had no aptitude.’

  Morven smiled. ‘Exactly. Think how awful that would have been. Me on the harp and…’

  ‘Me singing,’ Fraser said, cheerfully. ‘As it is well known I can not hold a note.’

  Alexina looked somewhat bewildered. ‘What are you all talking about?’

  Fraser laughed. ‘Nothing and everything. Ah, I think the whist competition is over. Shall we rejoin the others.’ He ignored the way Alexina held out her arm and deliberately turned to Morven. ‘My lady, would you do me the honour?’

  ‘You are a lady?’ Alexina obviously hadn’t paid attention to the introductions. ‘Did you not just accompany the duchess?’

  Morven nodded. ‘Mama.’

  ‘The duchess is your mother?’ Alexina’s mouth dropped open as she realised her faux pas. It served her right.

  ‘Well of course.’ Morven kept her voice light and unthreatening. ‘I thought you realised when his lordship gave the introductions.’ She smiled in a manner that Fraser considered was sweet and not really encouraging. ‘Mama decided it would be good for us all to come up. It’s been a long year, and she misses Lady Napier, who of course is my godmama.’

  ‘You?’ Alexina gasped. ‘Ah…’

  ‘Me. So, as Mama and Lady Napier have been good friends for an age, and the chance to escape London was too good to miss, here we are.’

  ‘Especially as it meant you did not have to endure Almack’s?’ Fraser asked and Morven laughed.

  ‘Especially that.’ She looked at Alexina whose face was red. ‘I didn’t see you there. Perhaps because I think it boring and dreary and peopled with those who often have no thoughts between their ears other than who is sleeping with whom and what to wear. I avoid it whenever it is humanly possible. Luckily we removed to the country before I told Lady Jersey.’ She laughed. ‘Who knows anyway and calls me irredeemable.’

  ‘Time to move.’ Fraser nudged Morven towards the far end of the long room. ‘Before you come to blows,’ he whispered in he
r ear.

  Morven smiled. ‘Not me,’ she said without moving her lips as they walked away from the others. ‘I’d win on wit and ambiguities, and she is your guest.’

  ‘Mama’s.’

  Morven watched out of the corner of her eye, as Alexina spun on her heel and glared at them, and then her brother. ‘Brogan, are you going to escort me?’ The words came out in an annoyed, staccato burst.

  Brogan shook his head. ‘Sorry, I’ve already asked Lady Murren.’

  ‘Looks like you’ve got me then,’ Jamie said cheerfully to his sister. His expression of annoyance didn’t match his tone. ‘Come on.’ He almost frogmarched Alexina to the other end of the room.

  Fraser wasn’t surprised to see Sir Reginald gather his family not long after and make their farewells. Within an hour the only people left were himself, his mother and the Westons.

  His mama sat down on the chaise and smiled. ‘That went well. Such nice people.’

  Did she really think that or was she putting on a brave face? Whatever, she was deluded if she thought it had been a good evening. Fraser wanted to shake her. Nevertheless he made a noncommittal grunt and leaned against the mantelpiece as she and the duchess dissected the evening, Morven said nothing and Murren did her best to hide her yawns behind her hands.

  He waited patiently, not contributing to the conversation unless directly appealed to, until the duchess made her goodnights and gathered her children with her. Morven gave him a brief nod and wink as she made her curtsey and followed her mother and sister out of the room.

  Only then did he turn to his mama who had stood and begun to walk to the door. He gripped her arm and none too gently propelled her back to the seat she had just vacated.

  ‘Right, what was that all about?’ he asked grimly. ‘I have never endured such an unpleasant evening in an age. Alexina Colquhoun is well on her way to being one of the most unpleasant people I know and will get a reputation as a harpy of the first order if she doesn’t take care. Jamie is as affable and uninteresting as ever and the minister? Lord, does he have an original thought in his mind? Fess up, Mama. What are you up to?’

  Lady Napier opened her eyes wide, then looked away from him and into the fire. ‘Up to? Why nothing, my dear. I thought it would be good for dear Lucretia to meet some people.’

  Fraser raised one eyebrow. ‘You chose a strange mix of people then, unless you are trying to scare her into leaving.’

  ‘No such thing,’ Senga said indignantly.

  He waited for three seconds but still Lady Napier didn’t meet his gaze. ‘Mama, I’m off to my rooms. I have an early start tomorrow. Estate business.’

  She nodded, her head still directed away from him. ‘I will not be long before I also go.’

  ‘Mama, look at me, please.’ Fraser made sure his tone brooked no refusal and slowly Lady Napier turned in his direction.

  ‘It’s time you began to plan to move to the dower house. No.’ He held his hand up. ‘This is not a threat, it is a request. As you frequently mention, I’m getting older and need to look to the future. My future. It might be the fashion to ask a bride to share a house with her in-laws, but it is not a fashion I intend to follow.’

  Lady Napier opened her eyes wide. ‘You’ve chosen a bride? Who?’

  He smiled. ‘I didn’t say that. If and when it happens you will of course know. However, for now, it’s best you begin to make plans. My secretary will be pleased to help you.’

  Or he might not, but that was his secretary Roland’s problem, not Fraser’s.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Has Fraser said anything to you about who he might favour as a wife?’

  Morven dropped her tambour frame with a thud and looked up at her sister in surprise. They sat in Morven’s tiny sitting room, the morning after the evening they had, according to Murren, supped with the she-devil. Their mama was out visiting the church with Lady Napier, Fraser away on unspecified estate business, and the two girls had been left to their own devices after crying off from the church excursion. As Lady Napier told their mama a few hours together doing nothing specific would do them good after all the activities of the last few days, the duchess had given in gracefully.

  Apart from her jaunt to Stirling, there had only been the dinner party and a couple of strolls, so Morven couldn’t see the sense of the remark but was happy to agree. Fraser had visited her very briefly in the early hours to say he had been called out to one of the crofters, who had mere hours to live. He’d gone to make sure the old man knew his family would be cared for, and had no idea when he would be back. He’d joined them late at the breakfast table and said the man had passed around five o’clock, and the funeral would be arranged at the family’s convenience.

  ‘Then I and Lucretia will go to make our condolences and then go on to the church,’ Lady Napier decreed.

  The duchess nodded. ‘Girls, you need not come. Rest and refresh yourselves for the next few days.’

  Morven frowned inwardly. This was not what she expected from her parent. To be left alone, without parental guidance or, Morven thought, interference, was unusual.

  Murren had looked from her mother to Lady Napier and then Fraser before she cocked her head at Morven. ‘Perhaps we can chat and then go and feed the fish in the pond?’

  ‘Ask the cook for some breadcrumbs,’ Fraser had said as he took his leave of them. ‘The carp will forever be in your debt.’

  Murren picked up the maligned embroidery and smoothed it before she handed it back to Morven. ‘Well? Has he?’

  ‘Eh?’ Morven dragged her thoughts back to the present. ‘Of course he hasn’t; why should he?’ She put her tambour away. Not only was she not in the mood to work on it, she’d also made enough mistakes to warrant it being attacked with the shears and snipped into tiny pieces. Why she persevered at something she detested she had no idea. Well, actually she had. Her mama despaired that her daughter had no womanly accomplishments and thought embroidery might pass muster. Morven was certain it didn’t. Although her mama didn’t know, Morven did have a talent for poetry. However, would that be considered acceptable? After Lady Caroline Lamb and Lord Byron’s antics, perhaps not. Even all these years later, it put a blight on women and poetry.

  ‘Let’s go and feed the fish,’ Morven said abruptly. ‘It’s fine, the sun is trying to come out and we ought to make the most of it. Did you get breadcrumbs?’

  Murren chuckled. ‘You’re not changing the subject that easily. I really need to know the answer. I remember what you looked like when you came home all those years ago. You were like a ghost.’

  ‘I was?’ She hadn’t realised her distress had shown, or that Murren would have been old enough to notice it.

  Murren squeezed Morven’s shoulder. ‘I worried about you, but I didn’t feel old enough, or able enough to ask you what was wrong. I offered you one of Tansy’s pups instead.’

  ‘Ah so that was why I got Teasel? I often wondered why you were so insistent.’ Morven remembered her puppy who had died unexpectedly the year before. ‘She was a godsend.’

  ‘So, have you heard who Fraser favours as a wife?’

  ‘No, why would he confide in me? We were friends all those years ago; now we are strangers.’

  ‘Hmm, if you say so.’ Murren didn’t sound convinced. ‘Are you sure he hasn’t said anything to you?’

  ‘He hasn’t.’ She hoped her cheeks weren’t red at her blatant lie. ‘So do you have what we need?’ A clumsy change of subject but Murren didn’t comment on it.

  ‘Of course.’ Murren reached behind her chair and waved a basket in the air. ‘And bread and cheese, a peach and some watered wine, each.’

  Morven grinned. ‘Do fish like peaches?’ she teased.

  Murren giggled. ‘Oh you.’

  Murren always thought of sustenance, and made sure they wouldn’t go hungry or thirsty. Unfortunately she was always tenacious in other ways as well. She waited until they reached the pond and then returned to her previous theme as she
handed a bag of crumbs to Morven. ‘I honestly thought you’d know something I didn’t. Are you sure Fraser has not intimated who he favours?’

  Morven scattered a handful of titbits over the flat water of the pond and watched it change from tranquil to churned as the fish fought for food. ‘For heaven’s sake, why should he confide in me?’ She tamped down her temper with difficulty. ‘I’m just a not so wanted visitor along with you and Mama.’ It hurt to say that but what else could she say? “Not really because he doesn’t know if he’s married or not already?” ‘We are from different worlds, Murren, and he would never confide in someone who is not part of his world.’

  ‘You are of his world—we all are,’ Murren pointed out. ‘Plus, you spent the day in his company. You must have talked about something.’

  ‘We did,’ Morven agreed. Goodness knows where Murren wanted this conversation to go. The fact she had been worried all those years ago was both heartening and frightening. With such an age gap the sisters had never been that close when they were younger and it was only in the last year or so they had become as tight-knit as they now were. She didn’t want to jeopardise that. ‘He spoke of the husbandry of his lands, not of his intended, the church we went to look around and how good the bread was in the inn where we had lunch. He was a pleasant companion and I enjoyed the day. Well until it rained.’

  ‘Oh, only pleasant?’ Murren sounded disappointed. ‘How mundane. You know, Morven, I do worry over you. You might be the elder but you sometimes are so unapproachable, so detached from life and love and determined in what you want, I feel I can’t turn to you for help.’

  ‘Eh? Lord, Murren, you always can. And after all, if nothing else I can show you how to get what you think is best for you.’ After all I know how not to get it. The situation was so ironic, Morven laughed. ‘Mundane is good. When will you and Mama accept I am not on the lookout for a husband? Seriously, Murren, who would want an opinionated, hard-headed individual such as I am? I could never settle for being told what to do or how to think. As for a husband who ignores me and my values? No, no and never.’ She emptied the rest of her crumbs into the pond and dusted her hands together. ‘I’m happy as I am, unless something or someone changes my mind.’