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Authors: Gerri Russell

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BOOK: Border Lord's Bride
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"You're here!" Heather cried, breaking out of her usual shyness. "Let me take your cloak." The young woman had the garment off her shoulders before Elizabeth could even agree.

"You're just in time for supper." Camellia smiled. "Please, sit by me, Miss Huntingdon. Tell me everything you know of…well, anyone! We've had so few visitors in the past months."

Rose squeezed Elizabeth's arm affectionately. "Having both you and our brother here will make everything better for all of us." At Elizabeth's doubtful look, she added, "I know it to be the truth. You'll see."

Elizabeth could only nod in reply. Why were they all being so nice to her? She'd been so worried that they would feel threatened or even resentful of her coming to take over the manor when the older girls were coming of age to do so themselves. She drew a sharp breath as she studied Rose's face. There was no animosity there, only relief.

The youngest girl, Lily, put her hand in Elizabeth's and offered her an innocent smile. "Our new sister has arrived, just as we requested," she said, her tone filled with awe.

Instead of the harsh response Elizabeth had expected, Lucius smiled.

He ruffled Lily's curly hair. "And here I thought you all as guileless as lambs. Instead you're plotting to snare me."

In the presence of his sisters, Lucius had transformed back into the man she remembered from her youth. He was alive again. All coolness had vanished. Or so she thought, until in the next heartbeat he turned to her. "We are not done with this conversation. Join us for supper, but after that you and I shall talk in private. Agreed?"

She nodded. It wasn't important that he love her, only that she be allowed to remain. "I'll not go home."

"We'll see about that," he said, then surprised her by offering his arm. After a slight hesitation, she placed her fingers on his forearm. She was suddenly conscious of the solid warmth of his body, the narrowed intensity of his eyes as he studied her. His anger vanished, replaced by a momentary smile.

Her breath stilled. She remembered that smile, the one that had warmed her clear to her toes and had made her reckless. Elizabeth flexed, then relaxed, her fingers on his arm, praying the sizzling sensation he'd sparked in her would dissipate. It didn't. But the knowledge of her continued attraction to the man steadied her resolve as she allowed him to lead her to the hall. She had no choice but to marry him. She'd already been sold to the Earl of Carrick to pay for her father's mistakes. She had no choice but to give this man her body as was his right by marriage, but her mind, her will, and most definitely her heart were her own.

 

All through the meal Lucius had been conscious of a change in Elizabeth. Something within her had shifted, taken on strength over the years they'd been separated. It bothered him, though he wasn't sure why.

Her delicate features had become more pronounced over the last five years. As a young girl she'd been attractive, with her wide brown eyes dominating her face. Now, she was a true Scottish beauty. The evening's candlelight revealed a heart-shaped face with a delicate jaw. Her lips were full and darkly sensual. Her tawny hair was a riot that looked as though it refused to be tamed. For a heartbeat he was glad to be free of his Templar oath of chastity.

Lucius frowned at the thought. Elizabeth might be beautiful, but she was not for him. He set his goblet on the table and rose to his feet. "Miss Huntingdon, Elizabeth, we must talk."

Elizabeth nodded as she stood, then bade his sisters good night. She drifted toward him, her posture rigid, her chin held high. A pillar of strength in a delicate package. He led her through the hall and into the solar. At the doorway he stopped. This room had always been his father's private chamber. The furnishings were just as they'd been when Lucius had left. For a moment he forgot all about Elizabeth and drifted into the room.

His father's desk. His fingers traced the polished surface. Behind the desk stood a shelf filled with the estate's accounts. To the left of the desk leaned a cane. His father's favorite. Lucius clamped his jaw against a rising tide of unwanted emotions. The man was gone. As was his brother. The estate and the welfare of his sisters were in his hands now.

He twisted back to Elizabeth. "Sit," he commanded, and directed her to the elaborately carved wooden bench near the shuttered window. He stood before her, towering over her. "I have no wish to marry you," he said bluntly. "As I am sure you have no wish to marry me."

She studied her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "In that you are wrong, my lord. My father and your brother have determined our fate. There is no going back."

"God's teeth!" Lucius erupted. "You'll cry off this betrothal at once."

Her gaze shot to his face. "It is impossible."

"Why? You don't care about me. 'Tis Marcus you loved." She paled ever so slightly, no doubt at the mention of her lost lover.

"You know little of my heart." She shifted her gaze to a point over his shoulder. "If the marriage does not occur, my father will be ruined."

He frowned. "How can that be?"

Again her gaze met his, and this time he saw something that hadn't been there before: fear. "Your family paid my father's debts. There is no possible way for us to pay you back. And no other future for me."

He turned away from her and walked behind his father's desk. His desk now, he amended. "Keep the money. I don't need it."

"That cannot be done."

" 'Tis a business arrangement. We shall make another one where you cry off and I make a gift of the funds to your family."

"If this marriage does not go through, I'll be destitute," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He hardened his heart to the sweet sound of her voice, which made his every nerve stand on end. "I don't care what becomes of you, just as you did not care about my feelings that day in the garden when I caught you and Marcus together."

"You saw what you wanted to see. Marcus surprised me. I did not return his kiss." She clutched her hands together, yet he noted how her fingers trembled regardless.

"You appeared to be enjoying yourself."

She remained silent.

"I would have stayed away from here forever."

She brought her gaze to his. "Then why did you come back?"

"Because I care what happens to my sisters."

"So do I." She straightened, and all her nervousness vanished. "You might think I have nothing to offer you in this marriage, but I do. I have many connections with the local clans. I can use those connections to help your sisters make agreeable matches. Without such guidance, they will likely end up in miserable situations or not married at all, and become old maids. Is that what you want for them?"

Cold, dark fury ate away at him as he glared at the woman who had fallen for his brother instead of him.

Despite his angry assault, her features softened. "No one asked you if you wanted this, Lucius, I understand that. No one asked me either. Marcus and my father swore to honor the pact. Not us."

He released a harsh breath. "So what are we to do? How do we undo what others have done?"

"We honor the betrothal."

"That is not acceptable."

"You've just arrived home. Will you not think on this for even one night? Please, Lucius, I beg of you."

"Is that why you came tonight instead of tomorrow? To force me into this decision all the sooner?"

Elizabeth paled. "I came because my father made me. As I am of no further use to him, he wanted me gone."

Lucius frowned. Obviously much had changed between Elizabeth and her father since her mother had died six years ago. "Very well," he said. "We will leave things as they are for tonight. But in the next four days I shall make you see all the reasons this marriage should not go through." He turned away, thinking he had the last words.

"And I have four days to make you see it should."

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

The blackguard has come home. Horatio Carr thrummed his fingers against the stout table in the common room of the Beardsman Inn, where he'd been forced to lodge. He should have been in the master's chamber at Midwick Manor instead of at this lowly inn on the outskirts of Newcastleton.

Why hadn't the French eliminated Lucius as they had his brother Peter? Better the French take the young heir than that the killing fall to him. But now he'd be forced into the deed if he wanted what should have rightfully been his: Midwick Manor and the earldom.

All around him the din of many conversations added a sense of confusion. He pressed his fingers against his temples in an attempt to gather his thoughts. He needed a plan.

Horatio frowned down into the empty mug that had only a short while ago been filled with ale. How could he force the boy back toward the Templars? If his nephew renounced the title, everything would fall into place. Then Horatio could begin his future as the Earl of Carrick. At the thought, his chest warmed. It had been so long since he had the kind of respect he deserved. How could being born a mere two minutes behind his brother separate the heir from the spare? Damn the system that had denied him his due.

Horatio increased the pressure of his fingers against his forehead. He'd already stolen away most of the staff in hopes the estate would cease to function. He hadn't expected the servants who'd remained to increase their efforts tenfold to keep that from happening. Though the estate was not thriving, it limped along. He could afford to cripple the estate during the winter season. But he would have to succeed by the growing season, or the failure of the estate would become his problem.

Time was of the essence here.

And in order to succeed, he needed another tactic, something far more devastating, something that would cut the young pup to the quick. Then an idea formed. The perfect solution to Horatio's problem. He knew Lucius's weakness. It was the reason he'd returned home.

His sisters.

Horatio closed his eyes, trying to block out the laughter of the woman sitting behind him and the shouts of the two men near the fire who wrestled each other like they were playing out of doors. The thump of a body against a wooden table made him startle.

He stood and backed into the shadows of the chamber as other men joined the fray. Horatio watched the ruckus, and as he did, his plan took on dimension. He needed at least two of these thugs as part of his plan.

The girls were the key. Lucius would return to the Templars or die. Horatio cared not which.

He pressed himself against the rough stone wall in the shadows. His cheeks heated, his fists curled and uncurled as hatred seethed green and evil within him. He would use the girls to get everything he wanted. Everything.

 

Lucius stretched in the chair he'd slept in by the hearth in the great hall, trying to work the kinks out of his neck. He'd slept in worse conditions, but never in his own home. He had a perfectly good bed waiting for him upstairs, yet he hadn't been able to bring himself to sleep in it or the chamber that had belonged to his father, and to Marcus after that. There were too many memories lingering abovestairs, memories he wasn't prepared to confront just yet.

Lucius stood and stretched again and noted the light seeping through the shutters was brighter than normal. He crossed the chamber and threw the shutters open. A blast of cold air greeted him, as did the sight of the estate blanketed in snow that had fallen during the night.

"Did you sleep well, my lord?"

At the sound of Elizabeth's soft voice, he tensed. "You used to call me Lucius."

"With your permission, I would be delighted to do so once more."

He closed the shutters. "You don't need my permission." A frown tugged at his mouth as he turned to face her. She was dressed in a dark woolen dress and a cloak, and held a second cloak draped over her arm. "You are leaving."

"Nay, you'll not be rid of me so easily, Lucius." She placed an added emphasis on his name. "I've come to take you on an outing." She held the cloak over her arm out to him. "Once you break your fast we'll be on our way."

"Where?" he asked suspiciously.

She smiled sweetly, and he knew from the days of their youth that the glint of determination in her eyes meant he wouldn't get anything more from her until he agreed.

He accepted the cloak. "If I do this, will you leave then?"

Her smile slipped a notch. "I'll make you no promises. Marie has oats and bacon set out for you in the kitchen."

As she waited for his reply, her gaze moved to the chair he'd slept in and the woolen blanket now lying on the floor alongside it. Her face remained blank, but in her eyes he could see a momentary sadness before she dropped her gaze to her feet.

He'd always been able to read her emotions by her eyes. At the thought he stiffened. What did he care what emotion she was experiencing, especially on his behalf? Elizabeth had betrayed him, and here was no forgiving that. He tossed the cloak over his shoulders and pushed past her, heading toward the kitchen. "Very well. Let's get this charade over with, so then you can leave."

BOOK: Border Lord's Bride
10.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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