The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride Page 6

  He shrugged. ‘Perhaps not, but if they heard us…I believe it matters not. Even if it is considered we only did a hand fasting it is legal here.’

  ‘Hand fasting?’ That was something she didn’t understand. ‘Holding hands?’

  ‘In effect, yes. Holding hands and committing to each other in some way. As I always assumed I would have a traditional marriage, I’m afraid I don’t know when merely holding hands turns into a hand fasting that is considered as binding as a marriage. Strangely, I was never asked to witness or conduct a marriage before I went abroad. I imagine my father was and did so, but never me.’

  ‘It sounds so unbelievable doesn’t it?’ Morven said quietly. Nothing she could say would help their situation. ‘But then I am from England and only know what happens there. Naught that appeals to be honest.’ Not even to enjoy the rapture she had experienced with Fraser.

  Fraser sighed. ‘So, I need to go to Stirling to find out the ramifications, not only of them, but the words we and Tam spoke. Plus if that was not enough to get straightened out, there is the added problem that if we are legally married here, would it hold up in England? What if your mama insisted you marry someone in England, and it was legal there, but if you came up here you would be a bigamist. If we went to England you would be seen as a fallen woman and scorned and banished from the ton.’

  Morven gulped. ‘What? So let me see. I have no intentions of marrying anyone, but as it stands we might be legally wed. It could or could not be legal in England. I have no way of proving it either way. And that gypsy tricked us? Kill him slowly. Let him be pecked to death by those noisy crows. Show him the end of a hard stick up…oomptft.’

  Fraser put his hand over her mouth. ‘Never curse a Romany.’ He burst out laughing at the disgusted expression on what part of her face he could see and kissed her cheek in the manner he seemed partial to. ‘Morven, hold fast. We don’t know anything for sure. Would it be so bad to be my wife?’

  She sighed. ‘It could be. I have always held to my conviction about what a marriage should be, and would ours be that? Who knows.’

  He would have to ask her about that conviction as soon as they had time to sit and discuss everything in depth. That moment was not the time to tell her that if the marriage were legal they would have to just make the best of it. ‘I’ll see what happens tomorrow and if necessary will have to approach Tam or Beshlie. That will not be fun, well not for me anyway.’

  Morven bit his palm and when he moved his hand she flicked her tongue out to soothe the spot. His skin was salty and bore the scars and calluses of hard work. No soft landlord. But oh what a tangle.

  ‘Enough that if we are wed life could be very, very complicated, without upsetting a Romany, eh?’ She began to laugh. It was that or cry. ‘If we are wed only north of the border even more so. Oh Lord what now?’ We could make love perhaps? Morven did her best to banish that thought immediately. Now couldn’t possibly be the time. ‘I best laugh or I will cry.’

  ‘Well,’ Fraser said cautiously, obviously—luckily—oblivious to the direction of her thoughts, ‘I’d heard to be married over the bush could be legal but I honestly didn’t think it would apply to us at the games. I should have paid more attention to all those tales I heard when I was a youngster. It was only when I came home that I heard rumours that several couples had been married on that day, and were still together, that I began to wonder.’

  ‘It is amazing no one said that one half of one of the couples was the master of Kintrain then,’ Morven said thoughtfully. ‘Local gossip like that at Welland would be around the village in no time.’

  ‘Yes, but I went away so I suppose it was a case of out of sight out of mind. Or don’t upset the laird.’

  ‘Can’t it stay that way?’ Morven asked plaintively.

  ‘Well I am no longer out of sight and nor are you,’ Fraser pointed out, ‘So I would say not.’

  ****

  How he hated to brush aside everything she said, but Fraser reasoned he had no option at that moment. ‘The one thing we do is make sure neither parent gets wind of this until we find out the truth,’ he said emphatically.

  He had never seen anyone change colour so rapidly. Morven went white, red and then white again, her face the colour of the old climbing roses that clung to the wall, which enclosed the garden. ‘Oh Lord, yes, I never thought of that.’

  ‘Then we can go from there, for after all it seems that they…’ He hesitated and decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘It seems they think we would not suit.’

  Morven nodded, her colour once more restored to its usual healthy glow, and chewed her lip thoughtfully. ‘I understood that as well. My poor sister is beside herself with worry. She is too young and the thought of you anywhere near her scares her witless. I have a feeling they meant to house her in a tower somewhere but she threw a fit and that idea, if indeed it was one, was shelved.’ She let her breath out in a long hiss. ‘Or so it seems everyone is trying to make me believe.’

  Fraser hit one fist into the other palm. ‘I should have realised. I moved into this tower recently.’ He didn’t say how recently. ‘Here then, they meant to house her in these rooms. I did wonder when I saw them being aired in a hurry that mama was possibly up to some trick or another. She can be ruthless in her deviousness when she thinks it is warranted.’

  Morven looked at him in query. ‘You have lost me there.’

  ‘There is a staircase from my rooms upstairs to these here,’ Fraser explained. ‘Ostensibly for servants, but used by the occupants when they needed to see each other without the knowledge of others. The castle is riddled with such passages.’

  ‘Secret trysts and so on?’ Morven asked with interest obvious in her voice. ‘How intriguing.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He might have known she would see it that way. To him it could be a nuisance. Or, he corrected himself, in the past it could. Now it could work to his advantage. ‘They have housed you here. Ulterior motive or expediency I wonder?’

  ‘Who knows, except it is as well it isn’t my sister. Murren is very young and as the baby of the family hasn’t developed the spine she needs to stand up to people. If you had appeared to her like you did to me, she’d run screaming like a banshee.’

  ‘Am I that much of an ogre?’ Surely he didn’t have a fearful reputation? ‘What do you mean they are trying to make you assume things?’

  Fraser flicked her skirts up and swivelled Morven until she sat facing him, her legs either side of his, her breast touching his chest, and her quim resting next to his staff.

  She raised her eyebrows but didn’t question his actions. ‘Mama intimating you would, I imagine, be enough to put fear into a young and impressionable girl. Murren needs someone to coddle her, not be bracing and ride roughshod over her. She isn’t like me. I would stand up to anyone who treated me so. Hopefully as she gets older she will learn to do so—but now? Not a chance. But then sometimes I see a look in her eyes and another one in my mama’s and wonder what they are up to. Ah well, hopefully I’ll find out soon. But that apart, Murren is likely to be in too deep, and would not be able to hold her own if challenged.’

  ‘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 wa
y 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 u
p 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.