Chapter Two #3
Jasper hurried to pick up his own mug and took a long sip.
“Lady Serendipity been watching over all six of them girls ever since their mother died. She promised the duchess that she’d not marry till all her sisters was happily settled with husbands of their own.
” He leaned in closer, almost whispering.
“All seven have to marry for love—not status—for the young duke to come into the full of his inheritance. Richer than Croesus, they are, and he has to settle for an allowance until all his sisters find good men who love them.”
“And has Lady Merry found hers?” Duncan asked, then glared at Malcolm, daring his insolent brother to make one sideways comment.
Jasper shook his head and licked his lips while staring at his bowl of barley stew.
“Lady Serendipity and Lady Merry are the last two still looking for husbands.” With a knowing grin, he shook his head.
“Even though them two be of age, neither is in any hurry to walk down the aisle.” Then he frowned.
“Lady Merry might be closer to wanting to find a man than Lady Serendipity, though. She loves babies more than anything and wants a houseful of her own someday.”
“She canna accomplish that without a husband,” Malcolm said.
“No,” Jasper agreed, “but even though she be bright spirited, don’t be fooled into thinking she don’t know what’s what.
Sharp one, she is, and kind all the way to her bones, but she’ll not settle for any man who thinks a woman should always agree with her husband and do whatever he wishes.
She has a mind of her own.” He took another long draught from his mug.
“Even His Grace knows better than to cross her.”
Duncan sipped the warmed rum, savoring its buttery spiciness. “Good to know.”
Malcolm eyed him with a knowing smirk. “And who allowed his sour disposition to show his arse within minutes of pulling the woman out of the river?”
“I was merely curt because of the situation.”
Malcolm snorted. “Ye were a rude arse, and ye know it.” He wrinkled his nose before taking another sip. “What was that old saying Mother always used? Ye catch more flies with honey?”
“Haud yer wheesht or ye can bed down with the horses this evening.”
Malcolm laughed, then lifted his mug in a toast, signaling that the women had returned. “Ladies—come and enjoy. This drink will warm yer wame.”
Merry gave him a dubious look as she and Serendipity took their seats. “What is a wame, exactly?”
“’Tis what we Scots call yer belly, my lady.” Duncan slid the last two remaining mugs closer to the ladies. “Beg pardon for such explicit language.” He shot his brother a quelling glare.
“Oh, it is very good,” Merry said after a sip, then frowned at the untouched food on the table. “Forgive us for delaying your meal. Eat, now. I know everyone must be famished. I know I am.”
Jasper and Malcolm hurried to obey, but Duncan took his time.
“Seri?” Merry put a mug in her sister’s hands and closed her fingers around it. “We are all right now. In the morning, we shall lease a carriage and start home. All will be well. I promise.”
“Aye, Lady Serendipity, and we shall guard the two of ye this evening. No harm will come to either of ye. I swear it.” Duncan was determined to make peace with the woman. He knew he had not impressed her with his behavior.
A tear streaked down Serendipity’s cheek, making her duck her head and shy away. “Forgive me. I am usually much better than this. But water…the river…” She clutched Merry’s arm. “When I saw you pulling Merry from the carriage, I was so afraid I was about to lose her.”
“But we are safe now,” Merry said ever so gently as she hugged Serendipity close. “Now drink and eat. If I bring you home ill, Chance will be overwrought. You know he cannot manage without you.”
Serendipity blushed, took a sip from her mug, and managed a tremulous smile. “This is very good.”
“The barley stew and bread are even better.” Merry slid a bowl closer to her sister and nodded. “Eat, Seri. It will make you feel so much better.”
“I will.” Serendipity nodded, managed a few bites, then paused and looked first at Duncan, then at Malcolm. “Thank you both for all you did today. I fear things would have gone much worse without the two of you.”
Duncan accepted her kind words with a polite nod.
“Think nothing of it, my lady.” He had never been comfortable with praise because, in his experience, it was always a double-edged sword.
His father had lavished kind words on guests at their home, but whenever he afforded any to Duncan, a clout to the head always followed, along with a stern But you should have done so much better.
And his father was usually correct. He should have done better.
He cleared his throat and shook off the pain of his past as if it were an annoying insect. “How far do ye mean to travel tomorrow?” he asked Merry. “The snow could prove to be quite deep.”
“Broadmere Hall is in the Lake District,” she said, “near Binnocksbourne. Naught but a few hours, but with the snow, I am sure it will take longer.” She bit into a buttery crust of bread, coating her top lip and making Duncan lick his own.
“Ye should stay here until it is safer to travel,” he said, entranced by the way the tip of her tongue cleaned the butter from the outside of her mouth. “There are no more rivers to cross, but ’twill still be bitterly cold.”
“Do you and Malcolm intend to remain here until it is safer?” Her eyes glinted with a slyness that warned him he best word his answer with care.
“I shall check the roadway in the morning before we set out.” He dared to reach across the table and dab the last of the butter off her mouth with a fold of linen. “And have no doubt, lass, I shall be more than happy to share my intentions.”
Her beguiling blue eyes flared wide with surprise, but she smiled, clearly accepting his unspoken challenge. “Good, my lord. I look forward to hearing them.”