Chapter Seventeen
As the countryside became more familiar, Cat grew more excited to be going home.
Not entirely though. She was also very uneasy at the prospect of facing her family after the lies she had told them.
She was as bad as Sinclair, but like him she had done it from a place of good intentions.
Surely that would make them more inclined to forgive her?
She had not written to her father. Neither had Uncle James, apart from a message to tell Maxwell he was coming to help with his troubles and bringing Cat with him.
Maxwell would not be expecting Sinclair, or the surprising prospect of Cat marrying their enemy’s grandson.
Uncle James had thought it best to wait until they were all in the same room before he shared that news.
“We’ll keep our powder dry,” he said with a wink.
“You don’t think he will shoot me?” Sinclair asked, eyes wide. And then to Cat, “Is your father a violent man?”
Cat reassured him. “He can be passionate,” she admitted, “but he will not shoot you.”
Sinclair took a relieved breath.
“Although I’m not sure about Rory,” she added.
“Cat!” The name came out of his normally polite and formal mouth—at least when he was in the presence of the earl and his wife.
“Sinclair, I won’t let him,” she promised, but he could see she was torn between laughter and uncertainty. “I won’t let them hurt you,” she added, and then doubled over with laughter.
Sinclair exchanged a glance with the earl. “I neither shoot nor fence,” he said, “so it will have to be fisticuffs if he challenges me to a duel.”
“I don’t think you need to worry,” the earl said. “Cat can shoot and fence, and she is very skilled at both.”
Sinclair had managed a smile, and later, Cat had kissed him to make up for her teasing.
But the truth was that her father would not be happy. She shivered when she thought of his expression when she told him what she had done. It might be enough to send her fleeing south again. Perhaps she and Sinclair would run away together like his parents.
Seeing her worried expression the nearer to Bonnyrigg they came, Uncle James sought to reassure her. “I will speak with your father. He will listen to me.”
“What if he refuses to allow me to marry?”
“He can’t. You are of age.”
“He still might try.”
James patted her hand. “He will be angry, of course he will be. But once he understands the situation, he will calm down.”
“You don’t think he will really challenge Sinclair to a duel?” she said, glancing toward the small square of window. Sinclair was outside stretching his legs before the last leg of their journey. His fair hair shone in a burst of sunlight, and he smiled as he and Jennie chatted.
“No, I don’t. He is more likely to use his fists.”
Cat wailed.
“I won’t let him hurt the lad,” James said quickly. Then, smiling, “You are very fond of him, aren’t you? I wasn’t sure at first, but I can see you are both good for each other. It would be a good match.”
“As long as Lord Armytage agrees,” she said grumpily.
James patted her hand as he rose to his feet. “Don’t run off if he says no,” he said. “I will think of something. You don’t want your father and brothers chasing you both all over the country.”
No, she didn’t want that. But neither did she want to abandon Sinclair. She loved him. Perhaps she had loved him from the first, just as he had her. The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable. Somehow she would have to make her family understand that, and accept him into their fold.
When they arrived at Bonnyrigg Castle, the MacKenzie family had congregated inside the front door to escape the drizzle.
Cat could see that Sinclair was nervous, but he held himself straight.
They entered into the great hall, the fire blazing in the great hearth and the weapons fixed to the walls gleaming with polish.
Everyone was welcomed and glasses of whisky were handed out.
No one seemed to have any trouble with Sinclair being there—perhaps they thought he was some friend from London.
It was when it came time for the introductions that the trouble began.
“Who did you say this was?” Rory shouted, his face as red as his hair. “The Master of Armytage? Did I hear ye right, Uncle James?”
“The Master?” Callum repeated, dark eyes blazing. “Why would you bring such a creature into our home?”
“The Master!” The title was then repeated over and over again. Even Henrietta shouted it out, hands on her hips and stamping her little shoe.
Everyone moved in closer, converging on poor Sinclair until they had him surrounded.
Uncle James was pulling Maxwell away when he tried to join in, his mouth moving as he hurriedly offered explanations and excuses.
But it was Cat’s brothers who were the real problem.
Tempers flared, even Donal was in the thick of it, clutching a handful of Sinclair’s fashionable green jacket.
Cat forced a path through the bulky bodies, elbowing them until they moved out of her way. Until finally she was able to set herself in front of Sinclair.
She gave Rory a hard shove. “Leave him be!” she cried. “Back off!”
“Are you a wee nut?” Rory shouted. “This is the man who’s trying to ruin us!”
“No, he isn’t!” Cat shouted back. It was the only way to be heard above the racket they were all making. “The man who is trying to ruin us is his grandfather. This is Lord Armytage’s grandson, and I am going to marry him.”
There was instant silence, and it made Cat’s ears ring. Rory’s mouth was still open and his eyes were shocked. It wasn’t the ideal way to tell her family, but it was too late now.
Cat felt Sinclair’s hands clasp her waist, and he tried to move her to the side. “You don’t need to protect me, Cat,” he said, eyeing her brother warily.
“Aye, I do,” she retorted, slipping in front of him again. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
“Marry him?” Donal demanded, staring from one to the other. “Oh no you won’t, Cat. Over my dead body.”
“If it comes to that!” she spluttered in frustration. “Will you just listen to me, all of you!”
But they were shouting again, wanting to know what hold he had over her to be able to force her into wedlock, and promising all sorts of retribution if a wedding came about.
Finally Maxwell waded into the melee. “Enough!” he roared. “Will you listen to me, you blethering gowks!”
Maxwell was used to being listened to, and everyone finally settled down and prepared to do so, although some of them not at all willingly. Uncle James caught Cat’s eye and gave her a nod, and she hoped that meant Sinclair was safe from attack for now at least.
The brothers had fallen back, leaving Cat and Sinclair standing alone to face her father.
“Is this why you went to London?” Maxwell demanded without preamble, eyes fixed on Cat’s face. “So that you could hunt out this man and marry him?”
“Yes,” Cat admitted, refusing to gloss over it. “I wanted to save Bonnyrigg. I wanted to save everyone. It seemed a possible way to do it.”
Maxwell stared at her for a long time, and then his shoulders slumped and he sighed. “Ah, Cat,” he said, “you had no need to do that. I would no’ have you sacrifice yoursel’ for us.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I wanted to. I needed to.” And then, glancing sideways at Sinclair, “And I love him, so it would be no sacrifice after all.”
There were mutterings at that confession, but Maxwell did not take his eyes from her face. “You love him?” he repeated in amazement.
“I do. And he loves me.”
Sinclair obviously thought it was now his turn to stand up. “I do, Your Grace. I love your daughter and want to marry her. With your permission, of course. And if I can help in any way to restore your home to you, then I will do it.”
“Ye will, will ye?” Maxwell contemplated him. “James says you have a marriage contract for me to read.”
“Yes.”
Maxwell nodded, still watching him, and then turned away.
He and James went to closet themselves in the office, but Cat was still surrounded by her dangerous pack of brothers.
She took Sinclair’s hand and drew him away with her.
Now here were her sisters-in-law and her mother to contend with, as well as Aunt Jennie, but she thought they seemed more curious than angry.
“You should have told me,” Luna said, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tight. “Oh Cat, it hurts my heart for me to think you dinna feel you could tell me.”
That hurt Cat too. “I didn’t tell you because I knew what you would have done,” she admitted, leaning back to look her mother in the eye.
“Forbidden you to go,” her mother admitted with a wry smile.
“Exactly.”
“You always were a headstrong wee lassie.” Luna turned to Sinclair and gave him a close examination. “Well, he’s handsome enough,” she said, with a half smile.
“Your Grace,” Sinclair said, with a perfect bow.
Luna wasn’t impressed. “We’ve been hating him for months now, and I’m not sure we can stop just like that.”
Sinclair looked worried.
“She’s teasing,” Penelope informed him, smiling. “How do you do, Master? I am Callum’s wife, and this is Grace, who is married to Rory, and this is Agatha who is married to Donal. We won’t shout at you, I promise, but we have other ways of making your life uncomfortable.”
“What ways?” Cat said uneasily. “I hope you are teasing.”
“Oh you know . . . Sheets tucked in too short, or a hedgehog in his bed.”
“Pen!”
Penelope patted Cat’s hand. “All I mean to say is we love our Cat, so you’d better not break her heart.”
“I—I would never break her heart,” he stammered. He turned to look at Cat, and they were momentarily lost in each other’s eyes. “I am forever grateful that she has said she will be my wife,” he said at last, sounding a little breathless. “Do you truly love me, Cat?”
“I do,” she breathed. “I truly do.”
Luna wiped a tear from her eye and sighed, and Jennie clasped her arm and leaned in to whisper. “I told you so,” she said. “Besotted!”