Chapter Thirteen

F inlay glared at Fingal. "Get out," he shouted. "Get the fuck out!"

His brother stood, sneering as he spat blood onto the floor. "Gladly. My work here is done."

Finlay lunged again, but Gunn was ready and stopped his advance, shoving him into a chair while Malcolm escorted Fingal and Yvette out of the room, then shut the door behind him.

"Well," Alexander said. "I am guessing that did no' go as planned."

Gwen and Clarissa stood. "We shall take our leaves as well. We will see ye in the morn."

The men watched and waited as the women escaped to the salon or wherever they were going to go to get away from them.

With just the five of them remaining, they all took a seat. The table was a mess. Glasses had been spilled and plates scattered. Finlay noticed a couple of pieces of dinnerware had been shattered.

He cocked his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth and he tried to slow down his simmering anger. "Gentlemen, I do apologize for my behavior." He blew out a breath and shook his head. "This night took quite the turn, I will admit."

"What was your brother referring to?" Malcolm asked.

"I should have been the one to tell Willamina. In my own way," Finlay spat, disgusted as much with himself as he was at his brother.

"Color me confused," Alexander remarked, as he grabbed a bottle of wine from the side table and righted the glasses to fill them.

"Ye all remember my father. He always had a wit about him. This time he, by way of his will, demanded that I marry before I turn twenty-eight, or I forfeit the title to Fingal."

"What?" Gunn asked. "Can he do that?"

"'Tis his will, he can do whatever he deemed fit." He drank his glass of wine in one long swallow, and Alexander leaned over to refill it.

"So, ye dinna love Willamina—Lady Watson?" Nicholas asked.

"That is the thing. I do. Well, I dinna know if 'tis yet love, but I," he paused, looking for the right words to say. "I have feelings for Willamina that run true."

"There ye go," Alexander said. "Ye just need to explain it to her so she understands. Women are fickle creatures, but their minds get all befuddled when it comes to matters of the heart. She will accept your explanation, no harm, no foul."

"I do take offense to ye describing women as such, Alexander. That is my sister ye speak of."

Alexander's look of annoyance drew a smile from Nicholas.

"I fear 'twill no' be so easy as to explain my actions. 'Tis complicated."

"Why no'?"

It was bad enough that he had to tell his friends about his deception. He was not about to divulge Willamina's reasoning for accepting their agreement.

He had to talk to her. Before he said anything else to anyone, they needed to talk. Tomorrow was their wedding day.

And come hell or high water, he planned to be married.

"I care no' to speak of this any further this eve. As instructed, I will visit with Willamina in the morn and hopefully we will clear up any confusion." He stalked to the door. "If ye will excuse me. I apologize for the ruined e'ening."

Not waiting for any acknowledgment from his friends, he swept out of the room, stopping by his study to snag a bottle of whisky and a glass, then retreated to his room. He dropped into the chair in front of the fireplace and poured himself a healthy serving of whisky.

He cursed Fingal. He should have known that his good-for-naught brother was up to something. The bastard would not let it be until either Fingal got the title or Finlay married.

"Shite!" He threw the glass into the fireplace and watched the flames spark as crystal shattered everywhere.

This whole thing was a mess. Tomorrow, he would be at Willamina's doorstep, begging if he had to.

Gil would surely take immense pleasure in watching him grovel.

But grovel he would if that is what it took to get Willamina to see the truth.

*

After a sleepless night, Finlay knocked on the door of Buckwood Manor just after nine o'clock. It was early, but not so early as Willamina would not be up and already broken her fast. He could not wait any longer to call. The night had already seemed to last an eternity.

"Lord Primrose," Domenic greeted as he opened the door. "Lady Watson is expecting ye."

Finlay tried to hide his smile. That she was waiting for him could only mean good things, he had to assume. The opposite was not something he wanted to entertain, and he pushed any negative thoughts out of his head.

Domenic led him to the parlor, where Willamina sat with a teacup perched in her hand.

"My lady, Lord Primrose has arrived."

Her hand shook ever so slightly at the announcement, causing the tea to slosh in the cup before she stabilized it.

"Thank ye, Domenic. Ye may go."

Finlay watched as the butler disappeared down the hall.

"Well, are ye going to sit or shall we speak with ye standing at the door?"

Finlay jumped into action, mumbling an apology as he sat down at the seat across from her.

"Tea?" she asked.

He declined and waited for her to speak. He wanted to start the conversation but felt that it was important for her to take control, so he let her have it.

"I understand that our," her tongue darted out and wet her lips, "dinner last eve didna go as anticipated."

He chortled. There was no other reaction that would be suitable. "'Tis an understatement, indeed."

"My night was spent sleepless and in deep reflection. Playing our deal over and over in my head." She sipped her tea, her eyes focused on the window.

"And what have ye come to conclude?" he asked, a hint of anxiousness tinging his voice.

"Our arrangement, as ye will, was one agreed upon out of need, not out of want. My cousin insisted I marry, and I only wanted to keep what was rightfully mine. But ye, ye on the other hand, said that ye needed to get married to take ye off the marriage mart."

"Aye."

"But that wasna exactly true, was it?" Sad blue eyes clashed with his.

He took a deep breath as he picked at imaginary lint on his trousers as he thought of the best way to answer her question. In the end, he could only give her the truth.

"Whilst 'tis true that I wanted to be out of sight of all the young women looking to make a good, suitable match, I also had another reason, which I stupidly withheld from ye. Willamina, I dinna know what I was thinking. I was being daft, really."

"Ye played me for a fool."

"Nay. Absolutely no'."

She set the saucer down with a clatter and stood up. Pacing in front of the window. "I dinna ken why I e'en care. We were ne'er a love match. It was strictly business. Your reason for the union didna really matter any more than mine did. In the end we both would get what we wanted." She spun and pierced him with an intense stare. "I just wish ye had been honest with me. Be honest with me now. Was what your brother spoke the truth?"

He nodded in defeat. "Aye. 'Twas. When our father passed, neither of us knew what was in his will. He had kept it a secret and neither of us paid any heed. Until the reading that is. It stated that if I dinna wed by my twenty-eighth birthday, I would forfeit the title of earl and it would move to Fingal."

"Why would your father demand such a thing?"

He shrugged, shaking his head from side to side. "I dinna ken. It made no sense really. And honestly, I had not paid it any heed, until the nearing of my birthday. I spoke with his solicitor and the will was iron-clad. There was no way around it."

"So ye decided to find a fool?"

"Nay," he stood and approached her, grasping her hands in his, thankful that she did not pull away. "The garden party when we first met? That was the first party I had gone to. I abhor attending such affairs. But I went in the hopes of finding someone that I would find interesting. Someone that I could possibly see spending my future with."

She sniffled, her shoulders rising and falling before shifting her gaze to the window once again.

"Willamina."

Her eyes returned to his.

"E'eryone that I had met that day didna hold my interest. They were either too meek and timid, or too boring, or too passive. Until I met ye. And in my mind, I saw our future."

"And an end to your potential problem."

"Aye, that too, but it was ye. Ye and your personality. Your independence that drew me to ye."

She ducked her head, but not before he saw her wavering smile.

"When I saw that your cousin was forcing ye to wed, and ye stated ye had no such want, I thought we could solve each other's problems, and mayhap enjoy each other's company in the process."

"Ye didna e'en ken me or naught about me."

He chuckled. "Ye showed me more fire in that short interaction we had in the maze than the lot of lasses that had been pushed on me all day put together." He squeezed her hands, and his heart jumped when her fingers squeezed back.

"At first, aye, 'twas a business deal. Made in both of our favors. But the longer we spent together, it became less about business and more about ye."

"I told ye I dinna need a husband." She whispered.

"I know."

"Will your title be enough? I canna give ye the relationship ye desire. The one ye deserve." Her eyes bore into his as if she were trying to make him see.

"My title be damned. Would I like to keep it? Aye. But ye ken what I want to keep more?"

She slowly shook her head, her lower lip quivering slightly.

"Ye. I want to keep ye more."

She closed her eyes and he brought his hand up to sweep her hair behind her ear. "I canna stop thinking about the kiss we shared. I ken ye felt it, too."

She turned into his hand, placing a kiss on his palm. "I have my own sullied past," she whispered.

"I dinna care." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"'Tis ugly. Ye got a glimpse at the theater. But believe me when I say that I am no' nor have I e'er been a fraud."

"It doesna matter. Whate'er it is, we shall work through it. And I promise no' to keep any more secrets from ye, Mina. Just tell me ye will marry me still."

*

Mina. He had called her by the nickname he'd given her earlier and it went straight to her heart. As they stood there, near the window, so close their fronts rested against each other, her breath coming in short gasps, she looked into his ice-blue eyes.

He had told her the truth, but had not demanded she do the same. She had not been untruthful about anything that she had told him, but she had left many aspects out.

However, this could be her salvation. Did it really matter that he was doing it to keep his title?

Nay. Not when she had agreed to the union to keep her own assets.

They were practically doing the same thing.

"Aye," she whispered, her mind made up.

"Aye, as in ye will marry me?" he asked, sounding incredulous.

She nodded and he pulled her even closer though she thought that was impossible. And as his head dropped to hers, he captured her mouth in a searing kiss that matched the one the other night. Something deep in her belly stirred.

As if awakening. And this time when his tongue sought entry, she did not resist. She gave herself into his kiss, pushing her hands through his hair and his hands moved down her back, slid lower, cupping her buttocks and pulling her closer to him.

A throat cleared in the doorway, and Willamina practically tumbled backward trying to put distance between her and Finlay. "Cousin!" she exclaimed, hand on her heaving chest.

"Shall I assume by that display I just witnessed that the wedding is still taking place?" He glared at Finlay. "And I will say that if ye say nay, after what just happened, my cousin is now compromised, and ye will marry her."

"Gil, dinna be obtuse. And dinna threaten Finlay." She looked back at Finlay and was taken aback by the emotion on his face. Mayhap they could have a happy marriage after all. If his kisses were a preview of what was to come, she could only imagine. She shook her head to clear it from her straying thoughts. "The wedding will go on as scheduled."

Finlay pulled her back to him and kissed her neck, causing her to shiver and her skin to heat.

Gil scoffed. "Ye are no' married yet, Primrose. Save it until after your vows. I willna have ye defiling my cousin in my home."

Willamina could not help but roll her eyes as her cousin spun and left the room. Noticing the time, she gasped. "We must make haste. The time for our ceremony draws near and neither of us is ready. I am to meet with Gwen and Clarissa to help me get ready soon."

Finlay gave her a charming smile. "Fear no'. I can bring ye to them. Gather whate'er ye need. I will load it onto the carriage."

"Thank ye. I shall fetch Joan as well."

She rushed out of the room, fearing her face was red as the skin of a ripened apple.

In her room, she rang the bell to call for Joan. Her body was a bundle of nerves. She tried to sit and wait for her maid to arrive, but she could not sit still. Finlay had set her nerves afire and she was not sure what to do about it.

Guilt still niggled its way under her skin for not revealing her past to him. There was also the part of her that felt like a hypocrite. And for all her thoughtful bravado earlier, in the back of her mind, she still worried that if she told him the truth of what had happened before, that he would call the ceremony off. That couldn't happen. No matter what, she needed to get married. Today.

"My lady?" Joan appeared in the doorway. "Are ye unwell?"

"Nay, nay, I am fine. We must make haste. We will be traveling with Fin—Lord Primrose for the ceremony."

A huge smile broke out on Joan's face. "So 'tis still happening?" She nearly squealed with excitement, clapping her hands together.

"Hush, Joan! He may hear ye."

"Sorry, my lady," she whispered. "This is good, aye?"

Willamina blew out a breath but could not keep the happy smile off her face. It was good, was it not? "I believe so, Joan. Now let us gather e'erything we need for the day. Lord Primrose will send for the rest of our things later."

Quickly, they chose the items needed, including the boxes from the modiste that contained her wedding dress and the lacy nightdresses the woman had designed, even though she would not be wearing them.

Or maybe she would.

An hour later, her trunk and boxes had been loaded onto the back of Finlay's carriage and the three of them were tucked inside on their way to Rosewood Manor.

Gwen and Clarissa met them at the door and whisked Willamina away into the room Clarissa and Alexander were staying in whilst they visited. In a whirlwind, she was transformed into a beautiful bride.

As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but smile; tears threatened to spill. She had never felt or looked so beautiful. This was such a contrast from her first marriage.

"Dinna cry, Willamina. What is wrong?" Clarissa asked. "Do ye no' like it? We can change whate'er ye are unhappy with."

Willamina shook her head. "Nay. 'Tis the opposite. I love it. Thank ye."

Gwen settled in beside her and patted her knee. "Tears of joy are the best thing. I am glad that ye and Finlay resolved the incident from last night. I am sure Fingal had his reasons for airing such grievances during dinner, but 'twas no' the right time to do so."

Willamina nodded. She could only surmise that his ultimate goal was to stop the wedding. If he prevented that from moving forward and Finlay didn't marry in time, then the title would go to Fingal. A purely selfish move. But titles and money made one act addlebrained sometimes.

A knock sounded, and Alexander's voice called out from the other side. "Ready? I am to bring ye to the chapel."

Willamina took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. For a wedding that was only for paper, she felt just as nervous as if it were real. All those around them thought it was real and she supposed some of that weighed on her shoulders as well. Even after Fingal's outburst, Finlay's friends didn't think any differently. Mayhap he had taken them aside and explained things to them and they were acting how he wanted them to.

She could not stop the little voice in her head whispering to her that she wished it could be real. Of all the men she had met, Finlay was by far leagues ahead. A greater match she couldn't wish for. And Gil was happy that he would finally be rid of his cousin and any responsibilities that came with her.

Her heart seemed to rule her lately. It was slowly letting Finlay chip away at the walls she had built around it. And she wasn't even upset about it. Instead she found herself looking forward to the future. Something she hadn't done in a very long time.

Clarissa clasped her hands and pulled her up. "Ye look beautiful. Finlay will be speechless."

And he was. When she rounded the corner on Gil's arm and began walking down the aisle at the small chapel tucked away into a corner on the estate, Finlay's mouth dropped open before he snapped it shut his Adam's apple bobbing, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Those ice-blue eyes locked on hers and for the first time, she believed this was real.