The Scot. Lyn Stone
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She swallowed hard, imagining what would be required of her. Though not precisely sure of the exact details, she knew it would not be pleasant. She had heard whispers. “But you would give me time…time to adjust. Time to know you?” She hated the pleading note in her voice.
“All the time you need,” he promised, then qualified it, “within reason. I will be needin’ heirs sooner or later, and so will you. Who’ll take the earldom after your father if not your son? He told me you’re nearin’ twenty-five and I’m close on to thirty myself. Won’t do to wait years, but there’s no powerful rush to it.”
She rose from the chair, feeling at a disadvantage having to look up at him. Yet when she stood, she still had to do that. He was incredibly tall. And well made, she noticed, trying to assess him in rather the same way she would a horse to be purchased.
His features were pleasing, especially the dark-fringed green eyes and mobile mouth that seemed to smile quite readily. And kiss exquisitely, she recalled with reluctance. Someone had broken his nose, giving it a hawk like character. Yes, she had to admit that the Scot was handsome in a rough-cut sort of way.
His dark wavy hair could stand a trim. For certain, he needed someone to guide him in the purchase of clothing. That suit was atrocious, his tie crooked and his collar wrinkled.
He did not strike her as terribly intelligent. What man with any sense would risk marrying a woman whose father had listed her numerous shortcomings so willingly and seemed so eager to be rid of her? Well, at any rate, he appeared to be one male she could easily outwit. That was something in his favor, she supposed.
It was a well-known fact among women that children usually inherited intelligence from the mother and physical appearance from the father, so she needn’t fear she’d bear ugly imbeciles when the time came. If it ever did. She would stall for as long as possible, of course.
Aside from that consideration, Susanna knew it was highly unlikely she would find a better bargain down the road in York. There was nothing for it but to take her chances. And pray.
“Very well, I accept your offer of marriage,” she announced in her most businesslike voice. “However, there are conditions.”
“Aye, there will be those,” he agreed. “You go first with yours.”
So surprised that he would allow this, Susanna had to think quickly. “Uh…well, I would require the time we mentioned before. You know, before we…” Her hands were fluttering. She clasped them together in front of her.
He nodded. “Already granted. Have you aught else, then?” he asked politely.
She bit her lips together. “Never impose your will upon me. Freedom to come and go as I please, no questions asked.”
“Come and go where? There’s not much traffic about the Highlands, lass. We’ll be coming down here or to Glasgow once or twice each year, I suppose. Not wise to strike out on your own.”
“Hmm. I am beginning to see why my father thinks this will be beneficial. What are your requirements of me?” she asked.
“No gambling. Loyalty to my people and yours. Faith-fulness,” he said seriously. “And that you be just in your decisions.”
She waited a moment. When he did not add anything, she asked, “Is that all?”
“That’s a fair bit when you think of it, lass.”
“No more than I would have given without your listing. But I have one more thing I require, Lord Garrow.”
“’Tis James,” he informed her, then held out a hand, gesturing for her to make her further demand.
She did, fully expecting him to argue. “You must allow me to speak my mind in all matters to anyone, as I will, without censure, even if you do not agree.”
His teasing smile took her off guard. “Censure? That means punishment, aye?”
“Aye, lad, it does that,” she replied, returning his smile as she shamelessly mimicked his speech.
He shook his head and laughed, a merry sound that made her join him. It felt wonderful to laugh. It felt even better to know she would not have to beg her father for anything, or worry about his criticism, or bow to any man’s wishes, ever again. This one, she could wrap around her finger and do as she pleased. She knew it. At last, she would be free of all the constrictions women had labored beneath for centuries and so, could encourage others.
Her father returned at that moment, sweeping into the room as if prepared to calm the hell broken loose in his absence. He stopped short, obviously puzzled by their gaiety. “What—what have you decided?” he demanded.
“Why, Father, was yer ear not to the door? Or has yer hearin’ gone bad? Jamie and me are betrothed, doncha ken?”
The Scot laughed even harder as he slid one strong arm about her waist, drew her close and soundly planted a kiss on her temple. Susanna permitted it without protest. It wasn’t so bad.
Even if greed for Drevers, desperation for employment, or simple lack of good sense were his motivation, Susanna reveled in the unusual feeling of being wanted. She boldly slipped her arm around him and hugged him back. She meant it for show at first, to taunt her father, but found it felt good to have an ally, even if the Scot was an unwitting one.
Yes, she could manage him with no trouble at all. Within a year, she would have him convinced they should live in London where she could resume her crusade. Her father would have no right to cut it short the next time, and her husband would not gainsay her once she plied her wiles upon him. She did have wiles, she was fairly certain of it.
Who would have thought her luck would reverse itself in such a strange and rapid fashion? There was solid proof her cause was righteous.
Chapter Two
James usually resisted change, but there was little to be said for the status quo in regard to his current situation.
Taking a wife seemed, on the one hand, a reckless thing to do. He could barely support the souls in his care already. However, he doubted Eastonby would grant him the stewardship of Drevers unless he wed the lass.
Working that close to home, without the necessity of leaving for half the year, would surely benefit both himself and the clan. The people of Drevers would certainly be better off for it. He could not afford to question his own preferences when this would affect so many lives beyond his own.
To be honest, he had to admit the idea of the marriage did not exactly put him off. Something about Susanna Childers sparked a sense of anticipation and excitement James had thought dead and buried along with his boyhood. The lass would prove to be an adventure, that was for certain.
He was suddenly aware of his life having been driven by little more than an almost desperate need to meet his responsibilities. What was a wife but one more of those? And yet…
She’d be a handful to tame, this one, he thought with a grin. A glorious handful.
Other than his mother, women had never given him problems. There had been quite a few, admittedly more in his youth than recently, due to the