An English Rose for the Highlander (Brides for Hire #1)

Chapter 1

“Tell me more about the situation, Miss Barton.”

Rose sat rigidly, as though leaning back against the seat might bring her pain. Though there was little in the world that could cause her more discomfort and humiliation than that which she had already been through. That was why she was forced to come here, to the matchmaker’s office.

Mirren Wood had graciously agreed to see her, and they sat together in the woman’s airy, light-filled parlor as Rose was forced to swallow down her anger. She should not have to be here. Rose had been engaged to a fiancé, a Viscount who would allow her to marry above her station, until…

Dwelling on the matter will not serve you. Answer her question.

“I am in search of a good match. I am looking to wed, and I wish to do so quickly as I want to create stability for my family and myself.”

Rose had intended to leave this meeting with the matchmaker with at least the good news for her parents of possibility—the possibility that a way out of this situation was on the horizon.

They could not stomach another downturn of events, the two fragile souls already hanging on by a thread.

She’d worked for years to care for her parents, to shield them from the darkness of life, often feeling like their mother as opposed to the other way around.

“I see.”

Mirren narrowed her eyes at Rose, scanning her from top to bottom as she held a quill perched over a piece of parchment.

The woman was renowned for her exceptional skill in matchmaking.

Still, she was also well known for having a sharp, discerning eye and blunt way of speaking, tending toward frank honesty instead of flowery words or softened blows.

However, Rose was most enthusiastic about working with Mirren Wood because she was notorious for her ability to see beyond titles and dowries, peering into the heart of what made two people a good “fit.”

Rose needed that desperately right now.

“That is good information to have right away,” the woman replied with a gentle nod. “And tell me about yourself, Miss Barton. I have the information from your letter, but I prefer to hear the truth right from my clients themselves.”

Fidgeting with her gloves in her lap, Rose cleared her throat.

She was distracted by the flutter of the pulse in her neck, seeking to remain as outwardly calm as she could.

The truth was a sticky subject for Rose, and she had been working diligently to keep word of her family’s situation and her own disgrace out of the grasp of the ton.

She wasn’t looking to cook up a scandal that would leave her parents genuinely destitute.

“All right. As stated in my letter, I am twenty-four years old, and I am looking for a husband as the daughter of the Baron of Fernside. I, unfortunately, do not have much in the way of a dowry to offer the groom. Still, I am educated and healthy, very capable of being a good wife.”

“Not much in the way of a dowry does make my job considerably more difficult. Is there something that prevents your family from providing a dowry of similar size and type to others of your class?”

“We…”Rose had to steady her shaking voice, swallowing down the lump that formed as tears threatened on the perimeter of her eyes.

“We have fallen on some challenging times, that is all. Nothing that will affect a marriage moving forward. And I see no reason why I cannot bear a suitable heir and be a pleasant wife, regardless of my dowry size.”

“Challenging times? My dear,” Mirren leaned forward in her seat, gripping Rose’s hand as it trembled and offering a sympathetic eye, “I do my best work when I have a full understanding of a situation. I can assure you that no mention of your family’s ill luck will leave this room.

Discretion is something I understand completely. ”

The burn in Rose’s eyes grew tenfold, and she ducked her stare to her lap, where Mirren stroked her thumb across her skin.

Her chest ached for secrecy, but even more so because this entire mess could have been avoided.

She should not be in this situation. If it weren’t for Ambrose, for her inability to see through him from the start, Rose would not be in the office of a matchmaker, desperately needing to get married.

Though I cannot deny the anger that fills me because my parents have yet again made a rash decision through which they did not think.

Her parents were so na?ve at times, but she had always been the one to correct them. She should have paid more attention this time. If she had, Rose was sure that she would have been able to prevent all this.

“Apologies,” Rose shook herself as she met Mirren’s eyes once more.

“I do not mean to be so emotional. In truth, I am quite upset because my family and I are now struggling to correct a terrible oversight. You see, I was recently engaged. I was to marry a viscount, in fact. But…unfortunately, he absconded with my dowry prior to the wedding, leaving my family with nothing. I should have seen through his persistent charms, smelled the rotten core beneath the sweet shell. But alas, I did not. My father…did not include the proper provisions in the dowry contract, and so I am here.”

Sympathy radiated out of Mirren’s stare, and she nodded once as she patted Rose’s hands. As she sat back in her seat, Mirren clicked her tongue, shaking her head before looking up at Rose again.

“You should not blame yourself for the actions of a greedy man. Preparations, contracts, they are well and good, but it is not a failing of yours that has brought you here, but the cruel actions of a man that dare I say would have made an awful husband.”

A small chuckle left Rose, and she smiled half-heartedly at Mirren.

The situation was still grim, but being in the woman’s presence left Rose feeling warm and safe.

She was not looking upon her with judgment in her heart, but with understanding and empathy.

It was a rare gift in today’s world, and Rose was especially grateful for it.

“If only I were a bit of a miracle worker, Miss Barton.” Mirren looked at her notes with a sigh, the corner of her mouth lifted. “You deserve a good shot at marriage, but without a dowry, it will be exceedingly difficult to secure you a match.”

When the woman met Rose’s eyes once more, it was not without a dollop of pain behind the deep blue irises.

She was only a bit older than Rose herself, and the shimmering waves of her black hair were pinned up beautifully.

In the back of her mind, Rose thought about how Mirren herself would make a fine match for some young fellow looking for a bride, and her mood soured all the more.

She could not allow her family to sink into ruin like this.

“I am not entirely without assets. While we may be close to destitute because of the Viscount’s action, I still retain the deed for a plot of land.”

“Oh?” Mirren perked up, eyeing her with her quill poised against the parchment as she sat sideways near her large oak desk.

“My grandparents left me a plot of land that I can only claim once I am married. The deed is safely tucked away and was not part of the dowry that was…stolen.”

It was the first time Rose had even allowed herself to think of the dowry in that way, and in a strange twist, it felt vindicating to pin the blame where it was due.

On the man who saw no issue with ruining a young woman’s life.

“Well, that is good news indeed. Where is the plot located?” Mirren’s face held a much brighter countenance now, and Rose felt herself grow hopeful once more.

“It is near the Scottish border. From what I understand, it is an expansive property just near the territory of Castle MacKay.”

“That is something indeed!” Mirren clapped her hand down on her knee, leaning forward in her seat while setting her parchment off to the side of her desk.

“If I recall correctly, there is a Scottish Laird who has been sniffing about that area looking for land. This could be an excellent prospect for you both. You get the marriage you need to secure your family’s future, and he gets the land so near his. ”

Rose straightened, her eyes widening as she considered the possibility.

A Scottish Laird certainly was not what she had in mind originally, but she was hardly in a position to refuse an arrangement that might benefit her.

Rose knew that the prospects of securing a husband with only a bit of land to offer would be a grave challenge.

Still, if there was a Laird on the lookout for a piece of land to add to his holdings, it would be especially tempting for him.

“I will warn you that the man I am thinking of is rumored to be rather cold-hearted and a bit ruthless. He is a Scot after all.” Mirren laughed at that, cocking her head as she tilted up the corner of her mouth.

“Not fond of the English, of course, but he is unwed and a piece of land would appeal, I’m sure. ”

Taking a deep breath, Rose considered Mirren’s words.

An unkind husband was a risk a bride took with any groom, but times were pressing.

She was rather cornered, trapped between the potential for two less-than-ideal futures.

One on her own with an impoverished family struggling to survive, and one married to a Scottish Laird who might very well see her as an enemy.

But at least then her family would be secure.

“Please contact him, Miss Wood. I will not turn down this opportunity.”

“Very well. I will do my best to reach out to the Laird and see if he is amenable to a possible arrangement. If you would be so kind,” Mirren slid her parchment closer to Rose, offering her the quill, “please detail what you can about the plot of land so that I might forward the information to the Laird.”

“Of course.”

The remainder of their meeting went smoothly and quickly.

Rose did feel more hopeful than she had when she arrived.

Though the prospect of marrying a Scot with a reputation for disliking the English and being rather gruff still made her uneasy.

She had so hoped that her life would remain here in England and that she might find a husband who promised stability for her family and kindness for her.

But wishes would not ensure that her family could eat. A marriage to the Laird very well might.

The door to the estate had hardly closed behind her when Rose was set upon by her parents. They appeared in the foyer as if they had been clinging to the walls waiting for her return, and Rose genuinely had to keep herself from yelping at the surprise.

“So, what did the matchmaker have to say?” Her mother stood just in front of her, clutching Rose’s hands desperately. “Was there any prospect that stood out?”

Rose’s father was just behind her mother, his hand on Horatia’s shoulder, as he said, “You mentioned the plot from your grandparents, correct? That had to afford you some better offerings. It is a sizeable tract of land after all.”

“Please, I need room to breathe.” Rose chuckled with little humor as she stepped further into the room, her lady’s maid, Peggy, taking her jacket and scarf. “It was a fine meeting. I hope to hear from her soon about the potential for an arrangement with a Scottish Laird.”

“Oh my,” her mother mumbled, paling as she wobbled on her feet.

Baldwin was only just able to steady his wife as Rose crossed the hall and proceeded to the drawing room, requesting tea from the servants.

Though it was not the time, she needed something to settle her nerves.

As they paraded into the room, her parents stood just in front of the small, low sofa, eyeing her with such concern.

“It will be quite all right, Mother. I assure you that I have taken care of this. Our situation, thanks to the Viscount, will be resolved. Miss Wood herself said that the man was looking for a plot of land in the area. It is extremely fortuitous.”

Her father collapsed back onto the settee, a heavy sigh leaving his chest. Holding a hand over his heart, Baldwin sucked in a fresh breath as he nodded gratefully.

“Oh, thank goodness. Rose, you are a saint. A fine daughter if ever I’ve seen one.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at him, Rose instead watched as her mother devolved into a fit of tears, her words scarcely intelligible as she went on about how much this could have ruined them.

Finally, breathing evenly, Horatia was able to mutter out a sentence that Rose had to feign disagreement with.

“We were too trusting. We never should have given that man the dowry. We have placed so much on your shoulders, Rose, and now you have saved us by agreeing to marry a Laird of all people. It is a wonder that you managed to find the stomach for it at all.”

Baldwin patted his wife’s hand as she flung herself back against the settee cushions, and Rose rolled her lips between her teeth before offering a proper smile to her parents.

“I knew you would take care of us, darling,” her father praised.

“Of course.”

Rose felt stiff and had yet to sit. She did not think she would, for nausea crawled up the back of her throat, and a bout of fresh air would be required after all this.

Her parents looked so pleasantly relieved as they practically melted into the sofa.

Part of her wished to scream at them that it was true.

They had been too gullible as always, and they demanded so much from her.

But she would never do that.

The pressure on her shoulders was one she was familiar with, and there was little to be done. If her parents had not seen the error of their ways now, if they did not see how they relinquished too much of their responsibility to their child, then the thought would never occur to them.

“We never gave our poor girl the opportunity for a love match.” Horatia peered over at Baldwin, her face still stained with tears, before she looked back to Rose. “If we had, perhaps this would not have happened.”

“It is all well and good, Mother. I do not require a love match or affection from my husband to be satisfied. I only wish to know that our family is secure. Stable. That is all I can and will hope for. If this arrangement with the Laird is successful, we will not have to worry over all this business again. And when our troubles are behind us that will be a fine day indeed.”

Both her parents nodded and went on with their words of gratitude.

It said something about them that they knew to be thankful for Rose’s work, her effort to rectify the situation.

But it did not change the fact that Rose was yet again upholding this family because her parents lacked the ability to do so themselves.

“It will be a fine match, Rose.” Her mother smiled, her round cheeks squeezing. “I am sure of it.”