Border Lord's Bride (2 page)

Lucius flinched at the mention of Peter's name, then nodded impatiently. He moved toward the hearth and the two long benches angled in front of the open grate. "Tell me, Hadwell. What is happening? Why is my father's brother scaring off the staff?"

Hadwell slipped onto the bench as though his legs were no longer able to support him. "While yer father yet lived all was well. 'Tis only when Marcus inherited that things turned rough."

Lucius sat on the bench near the fire. Warmth enveloped him, yet did nothing to relieve the chill that had settled inside. "Rough. In what way?"

"Yer brother did well enough, and the estate produces well, at least it did. The troubles started after Marcus died. That's when most of the servants and some of the crofters disappeared after yer uncle's visits. Lucky fer us 'tis winter and the crops are yet tae be sowed."

Lucius stood and paced before the fire. "What could Horatio possibly gain by crippling the estate? And why are the servants leaving? Many of them have spent their entire lives here at Midwick."

" 'Tis troubling," Hadwell agreed as he stood also. "He must be offerin' them somethin' they can't say nay tae."

Lucius stopped in front of the faithful steward. "Thank you for staying with the girls, Hadwell. Your loyalty will not go unrewarded."

The old man grinned. " 'Tis and has always been a pleasure tae serve yer family."

The tension in Lucius's shoulders eased. "I'll be needing you now more than ever to guide me. I've been a warrior for so long, I've forgotten all else. I'm ready to assume my responsibilities."

Hadwell's gaze fixed on his face. "All of 'em, milord?"

"Of course." He frowned suspiciously. "Why?"

" 'Cuz there's one obligation I'm nae sure ye'll like. There's nay way out of it though. 'Tis almost as if the previous Lord Carrick knew—"

"Hadwell. Speak plainly."

"Yer tae be married in four days, milord."

Chapter Two

Lucius shook his head dazedly. "Married? To whom?"

Hadwell worried his hands as he took a step back. "Tae Elizabeth Huntingdon."

Elizabeth
. Lucius felt as though someone had hit him in the gut with a mailed fist and knocked the breath out of him. He stilled. "You cannot be serious."

"Deadly serious, I'm afraid." The old man pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels. "The terms were quite clear. When ye accepted the title as the Earl of Carrick, ye accepted all that went with it, including the betrothal of Miss Huntingdon tae the Earl of Carrick. That's ye."

Lucius shifted his gaze to the flames in the hearth. The news about his uncle's visits and disappearing servants and crofters was unsettling enough. And he was expected to marry on top of that? "I would rather burn as Peter did than wed that woman."

"If ye don't go through with it we'll all suffer. The marriage was tae bring the two properties together tae help strengthen our defenses against the English. That's yer fight now."

Lucius jerked his attention back to his steward. "I'm done with fighting."

Hadwell shook his head. "The English raidin' parties have started again. None of us are safe."

Lucius stared at the man, hard. He could feel a tic in his jaw leap along with the pounding of his heart. It took everything he had to keep himself in check. He could fight the English. He could help protect his country, but he could not, would not, marry Elizabeth.

Hadwell's features softened. "I know this is nae easy fer ye. I remember how 'twas between the two of ye. The marriage will nae bring any funds tae the estate, quite the opposite in fact. But think of yer sisters. They need a woman's influence as they enter their own marriageable years. Ye need a woman's touch around here. Especially with the servants gone, there's much tae be done. Think on it, milord. 'Tis fer the best, ye'll see."

"Does Elizabeth know?" Lucius asked.

"Aye." Hadwell's face turned pink.

"Has she anything to say about this arrangement?"

"There's nothing she can say, milord. She needs this marriage as much as ye. 'Tis done," Hadwell said dully.

Nay, what had sparked between Elizabeth and him five years ago was certainly not done. But it would be soon if he had anything to say in the matter.

He'd accept the earldom, but not the woman who came along with it. She'd rejected him once. She wouldn't get the chance to do it again.

Elizabeth Huntingdon strode slowly away from Huntingdon Hall until she came to the slight rise in the land dividing her father's property from that of Midwick Manor. Standing in the semidarkness, she pulled her woolen shawl more tightly around her shoulders against the falling snow. Through a veil of white she trained her gaze on the dark figure on a dark horse in the distance.

Lucius Carr had come home.

She wasn't expecting him until tomorrow, yet somehow she knew… Her steps had led outside before she knew where she was headed. A harsh breath escaped her. She tipped her face up to the night sky. Snow caressed her cheeks but did nothing to soothe the turmoil that twisted inside her. She closed her eyes, praying Lucius would not hate her all the more for the agreement that had been made.

He hated her enough already.

And yet they were to be married in four days. On Christmas Eve.

"What are you doing out here in the snow?" Her father's voice cut the silence.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned to see her father striding toward her.

"You mustn't become ill. We can't have that. You are the only thing standing between this family and ruin."

"A few minutes in the snow will hardly send me to my death," she replied quietly.

"Do you realize how serious this situation has become? We are on the verge of losing it all, despite the betrothal agreement. All because of you." Her father's gaze narrowed. "The previous lord and I allowed you your female sentiments by postponing the wedding until you were ready. But no longer. You will marry the new earl before this opportunity escapes us."

A gust of wind tugged at the tawny brown curls she'd failed to tie back. She allowed her father's voice to fade into the background. The wind quickened, bringing heavier flurries of snow. The first low rumble of thunder sounded.

She shuddered at the unusual sound of thunder during a snowstorm. Was it an omen of things to come? When she looked back at the rise of the hill, Lucius was no longer there.

"Elizabeth!" Her father's voice was harsh beside her. "Lord Carrick is arrived. You must go to him."

Elizabeth looked up at her father in wild protest. "Tonight? In this storm?" The land was cloaked in shadow. The wind tore at her hair and flattened her shawl against her chest.

"Aye. Tonight. My debts have already been paid by the former Earl of Carrick, which makes you the new earl's possession now."

"But we've not yet been wed."

"A mere formality. The terms are already arranged and executed. The longer you put this off, the harder it will be. And we cannot risk the new earl pulling out of the agreement."

"Can it not wait until morning at least? He just arrived. Perhaps he wishes time with his sisters."

Her father shook his head. " 'Tis done. Let it be over with. Off you go."

"Will you not go with me?"

He shook his head. "You are best rid of me as I am of you."

His words brought tears to her eyes that were quickly slapped away by the wind. She should have been used to the bite of his tongue and his neglect. The only time he was ever pleasant to her was when he was in his cups, or gaming, and he was neither of those things now.

Elizabeth drew herself up. Her father's debts had been paid. His life was renewed. For her, the payment of that debt had only just begun. Her father's mind was made up. "I shall go, if that's what you desire." Her voice was uneven and she had to steady it before she continued. "Might I at least take the wagon?"

He nodded. "If you're quick about it. I want Farnsworth to return with the horses before the snow gets any deeper."

Elizabeth nodded numbly as she moved back toward the structure that was her home no longer.

It took Elizabeth's father's only remaining servant, his steward, a short while to pack her clothing into her trunk and strap it to the wagon. With a final nod, her father sent her out into the darkness to travel the short distance to Midwick Manor.

If only I could put this off until tomorrow. Or forever. Elizabeth drew a ragged breath and willed her heart to slow as the wagon pulled to a stop in the drive of Midwick Manor. A single stable boy came out to assist her. The young boy and her father's steward settled her trunk near the door. With a bow, Farnsworth returned to the wagon and set the horses in motion, leaving her standing beside the stable boy.

Elizabeth held her tears in check. It would not help her to spill them now. Her father cared nothing for her. His delivery of her unto her bridegroom was proof of that. She suspected that by the end of the week, instead of attending her wedding, he would be on his way to Edinburgh and the nearest gaming house to spend what little remained of her wedding price.

Drawing in a breath, Elizabeth steadied herself. Her father and Huntingdon Hall were her past. The doorway leading inside Midwick Manor was her future, and she would make the best of the situation. She was away from her father's gaming, and his foolishness. She should find relief in that fact and make the very best of the situation at hand.

She had to succeed here. Lucius had to marry her. If he did not… She forced the thought away. There was no going back for her.

"Are ye ready tae go inside?" the stable boy asked, breaking into her thoughts.

"Oh aye, forgive me. I was just taking a moment to gather myself." Elizabeth ran a hand through the wild tangle that was her hair. Her fingers tugged against the knots the wind had created. She hadn't even had time to prepare herself. Her father had been in such a hurry to get her away from Huntingdon Hall. She frowned into the darkness. Her old gown, tangled curls. What a beguiling bride she made. Assuming Lucius…Lord Carrick…would have her.

She straightened. He would accept her. He had to. She'd been waiting her whole life to have the kind of home she'd always wanted. Mustering her resolve, Elizabeth nodded to the young man beside her. He opened the door, then waved her inside.

"Wait here, milady. I'll get Marie for ye."

Elizabeth waited in silence for several long moments before a portly woman with silver-brown hair and rosy cheeks hustled toward her from the back of the house. "Oh goodness," the woman said, her kind eyes growing wide. " 'Tis you!"

"I do apologize for this inconvenience. My father felt it urgent I come to you this evening." Elizabeth gripped the handle on her trunk. She lifted the edge, then dragged it farther inside.

"The master is home, he is. Though I'm nae certain this was the wisest way tae—"

"I'll take care of this, Marie."

The familiar male voice was hard and cool. A shiver went down Elizabeth's spine. The trunk slipped from her hand and hit the stone floor with a thud that echoed in the deathly stillness of the hallway.

Marie bowed, then with a last look of concern fled the scene.

Elizabeth dropped her gaze to the floor, to the black boots not two feet from her. She'd known this moment would come. She'd dreaded seeing Lucius again after they'd parted on such bad terms. She'd rehearsed in her mind so many ways she should respond to him: with cool aloofness in one scenario, with meekness in another. Neither of those practiced responses came to her now.

He was dressed in a dark tunic and breeches that were slightly rumpled, as though he too had not had time to refresh himself since his arrival home. It took everything she had to look him in the face.

"Are you so eager to marry the lord of this manor that you had to come tonight?" His words were harsh.

Looking at him now, at the barely concealed anger that flashed in his eyes, she knew that time had not dulled the way in which they'd parted five years earlier. "My father insisted."

"Well, at least you've learned how to obey in the years we've been apart." He glared at her.

"Don't you dare look at me that way. I'm not entirely at fault for how we parted." Elizabeth started pacing as her fear vanished. "Or for the situation we find ourselves in now. You could have…"

His hand gently clasped her wrist, stalling her movements. "I could have what?" His tone was soft.

Heat rose to her cheeks. The tension between them became palpable. You could have fought for me. She met his gaze directly. "It's in the past." She was spared from explaining further when a ruckus erupted from the ladies' parlor. Squeals of delight and laughter mixed with the scamper of feet. Lucius's fingers vanished from her wrist. A moment later she found herself enveloped in the arms of his five sisters.