A Borrowed Scot (8 page)

She stood, clasped her hands together, and walked toward the doorway. As she passed him, she looked up. A muscle in his jaw clenched. She almost raised her hand and cupped her palm around his jaw.

He looked as if he would flinch if she touched him, but that wasn’t what she was feeling from him. He was angry and disturbed, but something else was there, something dark and powerful, an emotion she’d never felt.

Perhaps this moment was not unlike the night at the Society of the Mercaii. She felt as if she were drugged, subdued and silent, her surroundings swirling around her.

“Good night, Veronica,” he said, his accent coating the words with honey.

The look in his eyes, measuring, and a little dangerous, didn’t make her afraid. Instead, she felt warmth spread through her body.

“Will you come to me tonight?” she asked, congratulating herself for her courage in asking.

The seconds ticked by, and he said nothing. Evidently, the absence of an answer was an answer.

“You won’t forget to extinguish the lamp?”

He frowned but still didn’t speak. After a moment, he nodded.

She walked down the hall, only too conscious of his gaze. At the base of the stairs, she stopped and looked back at him. How handsome he was and how mysterious.

Montgomery grieved with such ferocity that the emotion was almost a living thing, hunkered down on all fours between them like a creature from a nightmare. He stood silent and alone, embraced by shadows.

She wanted to draw his head down so it could rest on her shoulder, enfold him in her arms and hold him, and tell him that grief had a way of becoming more bearable each day. She’d never forgotten her parents. They were always with her, their loss like a wound leaving an ugly scar. She would never be without the scar, but the wound was beginning to heal.

Montgomery, however, would not allow her to comfort him. She knew because he turned and entered the study, closing the door softly behind him, a repudiation without words.

Very well, he wouldn’t come to her tonight.

What a fool she was to be disappointed.

She was an innocent yesterday; she would be an innocent tomorrow. For how long? The length of Montgomery’s grief?

How long would that last?

Chapter 9

E
dmund Kerr sat at the desk and withdrew a sheaf of papers from his leather folder. He’d been empowered to discuss something with Lady Fairfax, a task he found objectionable. That duty should have been performed by Lord Fairfax. Instead, it had been delegated to him. Edmund picked up the bell, rang it twice, then placed it back on the top of the desk, inwardly counting how many seconds passed before his summons was obeyed.

Not only had it been something of a shock to realize that the 11
th
Lord Fairfax was an American, but Edmund had had to travel to that country to tell the man of his good fortune. He’d also been forced to use the power of his persuasion to convince Montgomery Fairfax to take up the title.

He’d found Montgomery without too much difficulty. The man had been a decorated war hero, and the government of the United States, however much in disarray they might have been after their civil war, was diligent about keeping track of their war heroes.

All in all, it hadn’t been that distressing a journey. He’d seen the devastation, of course, but since he knew no one in America, the ruins he’d passed had been more like viewing a daguerreotype than witnessing something personally affecting.

In the first few weeks, he’d thought Montgomery Fairfax would turn his back on his inheritance, refuse it, and go about his business in America. He’d had to cajole the man to England and through the process of being recognized as the 11
th
Lord Fairfax. Now the man was married, another shock. With marriage came heirs, and it was inevitable that the Fairfax clan would increase in numbers soon.

A depressing thought, but then, he hadn’t been appreciably cheerful since discovering that an American would take up the title.

A maid came to the door, finally, a great many minutes after she should have arrived, looking surprised to see him sitting there instead of Montgomery.

“Will you summon your mistress?” he asked.

At her look of confusion, he added. “Lady Fairfax.”

She nodded and disappeared, all without a word spoken.

He shook his head and arranged the papers Lady Fairfax would need to sign in front of him. Sitting back, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the confrontation.

V
eronica’s breakfast was eaten in solitude, an odd event after living for two years in the cacophony of her uncle’s home. Not having to make a concerted attempt to ignore her cousins made for a better mood to start the day.

Her first full day of being a wife. In the previous day, she’d seen her husband for a total of two hours, at the most. She was mulling on how to correct that situation when Mrs. Gardiner entered the room.

“Your Ladyship,” the housekeeper said, smiling, “Mr. Kerr would like to visit with you if you’ve a moment.”

“Mr. Kerr?”

“Lord Fairfax’s solicitor, Your Ladyship.”

“Oh yes,” Veronica said. “What could he want with me? Isn’t it Montgomery he needs?”

“His Lordship has taken himself off to the import warehouse,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “He’s buying more silk. Mr. Kerr specifically asked for you, Your Ladyship.”

Why on earth was Montgomery buying silk? Why was the solicitor requesting her presence? Just two more questions to add to the pile of them she’d accumulated since her wedding.

As she stood and left the dining room for Montgomery’s library, she pushed back her dread. Had Montgomery requested an annulment? She was certainly not underage, but did he think her mentally incompetent? They shared no relationship of any sort. What other grounds could he use?

Dear God, what would she do if he annulled their marriage? Where would she go? Uncle Bertrand would not take her in, that was certain. An annulled wife was almost as shocking as an unmarried girl who’d been ruined. She would really have to take the last of her father’s funds and travel to Scotland alone.

But what would she do, once there?

Fear is a wasteful emotion, my dear child. How much better it is to confront an issue than to be frightened into inaction.
Her father’s words. He would have cautioned her to wait until she’d heard from the solicitor himself before imagining different scenarios.
Never borrow from the future more than you can handle today,
he’d always said.

She stood at the door to Montgomery’s library and waited until the solicitor noticed her.

“Your Ladyship,” Edmund Kerr said, standing at her entrance.

Mr. Kerr waved her to a straight-back chair in front of the desk.

She took her seat, arranging her full skirts with the dexterity born of years of practice. Finally, Mr. Kerr sat, stacked his papers in front of him, and gave her a toothy smile.

The solicitor’s face was long and narrow, his forehead broad, his nose a petite nub. His beard was closely trimmed to his face and extended to his sideburns as if calling attention to his large brown eyes. His ears were narrow, pointed, and lay flat against his head.

Regrettably, Mr. Kerr reminded her of an earnest squirrel, a resemblance accentuated by his habit of tapping his papers with the edges of his palms as if the stack of papers was a nut he’d found.

What she felt from him, however, was not as amusing.

An odd darkness surrounded him, as if he were angry and attempting to hide it. She bent her head, ostensibly arranging her skirts while she concentrated on Mr. Kerr’s emotions. Regret? Sorrow? There was something about him that was oddly off-putting.

“Lord Fairfax has instructed me to tell you about the marriage settlement he’s made for you, Lady Fairfax. Although this arrangement is normally made prior to the actual nuptials, His Lordship did not want to involve your uncle.”

“A marriage settlement?”

“Yes,” he said, and named an amount that had her staring at him in shock.

“That’s very generous,” she said. More than generous. She could live the whole of her life comfortably on that amount.

“Why, Mr. Kerr?” she asked, pressing her damp palms against her skirts.

“Why, Lady Fairfax?” Mr. Kerr’s mouth turned down, making him look like an angry squirrel. “I agree, Your Ladyship, it is odd. However, His Lordship was adamant you have enough funds to enable you to live well on your own.”

A ball of ice formed in her stomach. “Does he not anticipate being with me, Mr. Kerr?” she forced herself to ask. “Is he annulling the marriage?”

He looked surprised, staring at her without speaking for several moments.

“Have you any knowledge he might wish an annulment, Lady Fairfax?”

She shook her head.

“Then I should not concern yourself with that thought. Especially since His Lordship has made ample provision for your future.”

Because of Montgomery’s generosity, people would not have to take her in, show her charity. She’d have enough money to set up her own household no matter what happened in the future.

“Is my husband returning to America, Mr. Kerr?”

The solicitor didn’t answer her immediately. Finally, after an agonizing minute, he shook his head. “I have not been told that, Lady Fairfax.”

“Would he tell you?”

His face settled into disapproving lines. Was he annoyed because she’d asked? Or annoyed at the thought of Montgomery doing anything without consulting him?

“He would have to do so, Lady Fairfax. There are any manner of details that would need to be arranged if His Lordship decided to return to Virginia.”

She told herself she should be grateful for the settlement and not delve further into Montgomery’s plans. Another example of meekly acquiescing to the future?

“If you’ll sign these, Lady Fairfax,” he said, “I’ll take them to the appropriate authorities. The next time you’ll see me will be in Scotland.”

“You’ll be in Scotland, Mr. Kerr?”

“I live in Scotland, Lady Fairfax. At Doncaster Hall.”

She signed where he indicated, keeping her emotions in check. Later, out of Mr. Kerr’s presence, she would think about everything he had said and whether to worry about it or not.

M
ontgomery’s errands had been successful, resulting in promises from several companies to expedite his orders to Scotland. London was too congested for his purposes. Edmund had assured him there was room enough in Scotland to do what he wished. He entered the townhouse with his thoughts occupied by the design of the air flow chambers only to be stopped by the sight of his wife.

Veronica was sitting on the steps.

He didn’t need any type of clairvoyant gift to figure out she was annoyed.

“You’re waiting for me, I see,” he said.

She didn’t speak, merely stood, walked down the steps, her gaze not leaving his. Instead of approaching him, however, she walked into the parlor, never glancing back to see if he followed.

Montgomery debated going on to his library and finishing the lists of equipment he needed, then discarded that thought. This conversation had been coming since the night before, when he’d decided it would be wiser to remain celibate than to bed a stranger.

Evidently, Veronica was angry about his decision.

That was not, however, the first comment she made when he followed her.

“Are you returning to America?”

He entered the parlor, a plainly decorated chamber, the antithesis of the room in which they’d been married. The Countess of Conley was given to an over appreciation of her furnishings. Mrs. Gardiner was, blessedly, more restrained in her taste.

“We’re going to Scotland.”

Veronica clasped her hands together and looked up at him.

“Are you taking me with you?”

“What made you think I was traveling to Scotland without you?”

Relief flashed in her eyes, so quickly that if he’d not made a practice of studying the men in his command in the last four years, he might’ve missed it.

“When? When are we leaving?” she asked, flattening her hands against her skirts.

“This afternoon,” he said, realizing he should have told her earlier. He’d been used to thinking only of himself for so many years, he’d have to become acquainted with another person’s needs.

“The train leaves at two. Will you be ready?”

She nodded.

He retreated to the sofa, set at a right angle to the fireplace. Upholstered in a green and flowery fabric, it was a bit too feminine for his tastes. Perhaps an English parlor was a woman’s domain.

Veronica didn’t sit beside him. Instead, she stood in front of him and repeated her first, surprising, question.

“Are you returning to America?” she asked.

“Why would you ask that?” Caution tempered his words.

She took a step toward him, then another, halting only when she was an arm’s length away.

“Why did you give me a settlement?”

When he didn’t answer, she frowned at him, standing in front of him as if he were a boy in short pants and she his chastiser. He wasn’t particularly fond of being chastised.

He leaned back, folded his arms, and regarded her.

“You’ve provided quite adequately for me, Montgomery. Is that supposed to make up for desertion?”

“Desertion?” he asked, surprised. “I provided for you, Veronica,” he said. “Be satisfied with that.”

She studied him for a moment, as if deciding whether to believe his answer.

“You didn’t come to me last night,” she said, finally, startling him again.

He wasn’t used to her straightforwardness. She didn’t flirt. She didn’t hide behind double entendres. She wasn’t the type to hint at anything. Instead, Veronica came right out and told him what she was thinking.

A woman’s wiles had no effect on him, but her directness was fascinating. So, too, her voice. With her accent of Scotland, she changed words, made them sound new, as if English were a language he’d just started to comprehend.

How the hell did he answer her complaint?

“I’m not prepared to bed a stranger,” he said, giving her the truth.

She blinked at him several times.

Did she
feel
something from him? Oh, for the love of God, was he beginning to believe she actually had a Gift?

“How will we be anything other than strangers if you continually avoid me?”

“I haven’t continually avoided you,” he said. “We haven’t been married a full day yet.”

“It’s been a full day,” she said, glancing at the mantel clock.

“Are you always this argumentative?”

She considered the question. “I believe I was,” she said. “Not lately, of course, but when I lived with my parents. My father liked to debate. I often took the other side of an argument simply to please him.”

Before he could comment, she took another step closer. “You’ve never even kissed me,” she said.

“Why do I worry you?”

She blinked at him again.

“Last night, you said I worried you.”

“Oh, good heavens, Montgomery, you’re an American. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met. You’re a stranger. I’d be a fool not to be worried.”

“Yet you still wanted me to come to your bed.”

“I’m a bride. You’re supposed to come to my bed.”

“Am I?”

“Don’t you know?” she asked, blinking at him.

He was almost tempted to continue to tease her, to see what she would say. She amused him, and he hadn’t expected that.

“A kiss? Is that all you want?”

Without giving her a chance to answer, he reached over and grabbed her skirt, pulling her toward him until she tumbled into his lap. Her hands fluttered in the air for a moment until his arms locked around her waist.

“In what way am I different?”

She was evidently not prepared to answer that question because she simply stared at him.

He tipped her head back, his attention on her face, a face even then coloring under his inspection. He lowered his head.

“I’m a Virginian,” he said. “You can’t utter a dare to a Virginian and expect him to ignore it.”

Her eyes widened.

Amused, he placed his hand over her eyes.

“You’re supposed to be overcome by passion,” he said, bending to kiss her lightly. “Or at the very least, overwhelmed by romance.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt romance,” she said against his lips. “Or passion.”