Chapter Six
“Go inside, lass. ’Tis bitter cold.” Duncan hated to leave the hospitality and joy of Broadmere Hall, but most of all, he hated to leave Merry.
He had relented and spent the night there rather than lodge at the inn in Binnocksbourne, and that had made matters even worse.
The swarm of siblings, nieces, nephews, dogs, and cats had made him feel like one of their own—a strange feeling, indeed.
One he had never felt from his own family.
But now it was morning, and time to return to Galkirk and prepare for his trip to London the following week.
“On wi’ ye now. The wind is about to blow yer cloak off yer shoulders. ”
The nip of the icy breeze had reddened her nose and cheeks, but her eyes still sparkled. Merry caught the garment closer around her. “It would be rude to send you on your way and remain in the hallway. I intend to watch you until you ride out of sight.”
“Nay, lass. ’Tis bad luck to watch someone ride away. Ye might never see them again if ye do that.”
“Will I see you again?”
Wily minx. She had set her trap, and he had walked right into it. “Aye, lass. In London. Once I see what needs tending to at the townhouse. Malcolm was the last to stay there a while back.”
“Ye make me sound as though I am a wild beast that drags its kill through the hallways.” Malcolm drew his mount closer.
“’Tis rude to eavesdrop and even ruder to speak in such a manner in front of a lady. Dinna make me clout ye.” Duncan shooed his brother away with a flick of his hand.
Malcolm grinned and offered her a dramatic bow from the saddle. “Forgive me, Lady Merry, and do take care. Until we meet again in London.”
Merry waved. “Be safe, Lord Malcolm, and do not vex your brother overly so. Please?”
“I shall try, my lady.” Malcolm urged his horse onward, leaving Duncan to finish his goodbyes.
“My brother is a liar.” Duncan gave her a formal bow when all he really wished to do was take her in his arms and never let her go. “Inside wi’ ye now, lass. Please.”
“Duncan?”
“Aye?”
“Between now and the next time we meet, will you do something for me?”
“And what might that be, my lady?” The mischief in her eyes filled him with leeriness.
“Try to learn how to smile.”
He frowned. “Learn how to smile?”
“Yes.” She pointed at his face. “The opposite of what you are doing at this very moment.”
“I know how to smile.”
“Do you truly?”
“I do.”
“I have never seen you smile.”
“I reserve my smiles for special occasions.” Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled—but then again, he had never paid that much attention to it.
She rolled her eyes and made a face. “Well, then, while we are apart, learn to be more generous with your smiles. I would like to see one someday.”
Barely restraining a groan, he tipped a resigned nod. “I shall do my best, my lady.”
She stole a glance at the house, then got on tiptoes and pecked a quick kiss to his cheek. “See that you do.” Then she rushed up the steps, her cloak billowing behind her. “Be safe,” she called out, then waved and went inside.
“Heaven help me,” he said, staring after her. How could she possibly draw him ever deeper under her spell each time he was with her? Shaking free of the daze, he launched himself up into the saddle. “Come, Spartan. Malcolm has the lead, and we canna be having that, now can we?”
The horse’s resounding snort fogged in the brisk air, then he took off with a ground-eating gallop. They soon caught up to Malcolm and his mount trotting along at a leisurely pace.
“About time,” Malcolm said. “Did ye kiss her?”
“I did not.” But the memory of her hurried kiss to his cheek set Duncan ablaze, keeping him warm on the cold, wintry day. “’Twould not be proper.”
Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. “The two of ye are meant for one another. Where would be the harm in one little stolen kiss?”
“One kiss from Lady Merry would never be enough.”
“Fair point.”
They rode along in companionable silence that Duncan knew would never last—and it didn’t.
“Are we bringing Mother?” Malcolm asked.
“What?”
“I think Mother would enjoy some time in London. Are we bringing her?”
Sensing his brother was once again scheming, Duncan braced himself for whatever Malcolm was about to put forth. “Did she ask to come to London?”
With a shrug, his brother adopted an impossible-to-believe innocence. “She might have.”
“As poorly as ye lie, ye should find other ways to launch yer trickery.” Duncan squinted against the cold wind that made his eyes water. “Why did she not ask me?”
“Ye know why, Duncan. She still blames herself and doesn’t wish to burden ye in any way.”
“Having ye conniving for her is burden enough. Stop doing it and have her speak with me directly.” He wished they could all just pretend life with his father had never happened.
He didn’t blame his mother for his sire’s cruel ways.
Every man’s actions were their own, and only that man should stand in judgment for them.
Not only that, but he could remember the one time she had tried to spirit them all away and escape his father.
She had paid dearly for that courageous act.
It had nearly cost their mother her life. “I will speak with her.”
“It will be good to have us all at the townhouse,” Malcolm said, “and she needs to meet Lady Merry. When do ye plan on asking her to be yer wife?”
“It is too soon.”
“In whose opinion?”
“Everyone’s opinion.” Well, everyone’s opinion but his. Even Merry had requested they go a bit slower when he suggested he would carry her off to Gretna Green and marry her. “Besides, she hardly knows me, and she has already made a request I dinna know if I can do.”
Malcolm eyed him as though he’d sprouted a horn between his eyes. “What request?”
“She wants me to smile more often.”
“Ye never smile.”
“I rarely know of anything to smile about.” Duncan allowed himself a heavy sigh.
“Well, ye do now. Ye’ve yer own bit of English sunshine thawing the icy cockles of yer heart. Dinna be a coward about it. Be thankful and smile.”
Duncan glared at his brother, willing him to shut his gob.
“Well?” Malcolm threw up a hand. “Try it. Smile.”
Duncan bared his teeth.
“Ye look as if ye’re straining to have a shite.”
“A fine help ye are.”
“Try again, and dinna bare yer teeth. Ye’re not a rabid dog, growling at being cornered.”
Doing his best to lift the corners of his mouth until his cheeks ached, Duncan aimed his smile at his brother. “Better?”
“’Tis better than the toothy one, but not by much. Think of something that makes ye happy—as if I dinna know what that might be.”
Duncan relaxed his face, took a deep breath, and blew it out while visualizing Merry. A peacefulness washed across him, along with an aching need to see her again. A moment out of her company was an eternity too long.
“That is much closer,” Malcolm said. “Ye dinna look as though ye could bite through iron. In fact, ’tis the happiest I can ever remember seeing ye. Maybe that is yer smile, and we just dinna recognize it because we’ve never seen it.”
As long as Merry thought it was a smile, that was all that mattered.
Returning to the subject of their mother accompanying them, Duncan shifted in the saddle.
The very idea of packing the entire household made his arse twitch.
“I dinna wish to carry everything we own to London, ye ken. We must restrain her.”
Malcolm eyed him as if his mind had left him. “Ye may tell her that when ye speak with her.”
“Coward.”
“’Tis not cowardly to know an unwinnable battle when I see one.”
“None of the servants will stand against her either.” Even though Mother was a demanding sort, she was fair and good to her people, and they all loved her for it.
Duncan envisioned them packing up the entirety of Galkirk as though they were never to return.
“Even if I speak with her about it, she’ll have them slip things in, thinking I’ll never notice. ”
“If the weather improves, we can tell her we mustn’t load the carriages too heavily because of all the mud.”
“I will speak with her,” Duncan said, knowing the cause was lost. He cast a pointed look at his brother. “And ye best back me on this rather than siding with her, ye ken?”
Malcolm grinned. “Of course.”
“Liar.”
“Ye know she’ll insist on taking her cats.”
“She can take the feckin’ cats. They keep her company.” Then Duncan reconsidered. They would be in London. Would she not be attending teas and parties and those sorts of things? “Will she truly wish to bring the cats? All of them? Will she not be busy with whatever women do in London?”
“Maybe. But ye’ll be so busy attending parties and balls, ye’ll not have time to notice.”
“What the devil is that supposed to mean? Why would I be attending parties and balls?” Duncan shuddered at the prospect.
“So ye wish yer Lady Merry to be dancing and laughing with all those gentlemen of the ton who are in search of wives?”
“What?” With a tug on the reins, Duncan halted his mount. Jealousy crackled through him like an all-consuming inferno. “What the devil are ye talking about?”
“She is of age, Duncan. Unmarried. Not officially courting or betrothed, and even if she were, she would still be expected to attend events. Her brother is a duke. He also needs her married off. Surely ye dinna believe she will sit at home whilst her friends and family enjoy parties and social gatherings. The woman loves to laugh. Loves to dance. Ye saw her at her birthday.”
“She is mine,” Duncan said, not caring that he sounded like a man crazed with greed.
“Then ye best stay close to her to ensure no one else steals her away.”
“No one takes what is mine,” he said. “Not ever.”
Malcolm thumped his fist to his chest. “Then guard yer heart, brother, and stay close to her until she is officially yers.”
*