Chapter Eight

O utside, the sun shone bright in the sky, but the air still held a chill. Willamina was glad that she had opted to cover her shoulders with her cloak before leaving Buckwood Manor. She looked back to see Gil far behind them, talking to a man she recognized, but could not remember the name of. He had been to visit her cousin previously.

Her hand was settled in the crook of Finlay's elbow, and she could not help but caress her fingers over the sleeve of his wool coat.

"Lord Primrose, I do believe that we have society properly fooled," she said, dipping her head and smiling at a couple that walked past them.

"I must agree. I had no' thought myself for an actor, but mayhap I should change professions."

She giggled. "I would verra much like to see ye on stage. I would be front row of the theater for every show."

He looked down at her, his eyes crinkled as she jested. "Would ye now?" He shook his head as they walked on. "Nay, I dinna think I could."

"Why no'?" she asked.

His eyes took on a faraway look as he thought on something, but as she waited, he did not expand on his thoughts. She really would be there to watch every show he acted in. It would be a marvelous performance, she was sure.

"I just think my talents would be better suited elsewhere," he said breaking into her thoughts. "I do have something I think we should discuss," he whispered conspiratorially.

She looked over her shoulder, ensuring Gil was still occupied with other things. Satisfied that he was, she focused her attention back on Lord Primrose. "Go on," she urged.

He patted her hand resting on his arm. "Since we are to be married—"

"On paper only," she cut in.

"Of course. But in any case, I feel it only proper that ye address me as Finlay. It doesna make sense to continue to call me Lord Primrose. Or I to call ye Lady Watson. Surely, that is no' how our conversations will go."

She nodded in agreement. He made a good point. They very well could not continue to be so proper if they were to be married.

"So ye should call me Willamina and I shall call ye Finlay?" She could feel the heat rush to her face from the suggestion. Really. She was acting as if she were a lass experiencing her first introduction into society.

"Aye, or a nickname. I would quite like to call ye Mina. It has a nice ring to it. 'Tis just one more way to show that we are in, in, in… Well, ye ken what I am trying to say."

Could he not say the word ‘love'? She ducked her head and hid her smile. She found his reluctance endearing and his choice of a nickname for her even more so.

"Well, Finlay," she said the name slowly. It felt odd, as if she were doing something forbidden. But, as he said, with them to be married, calling each other by their formal names would only raise suspicion. And neither of them wanted that. Mayhap she could call him Fin. Mayhap in the future. She wasn't sure she was ready for that yet. "It seems the city is abuzz with our upcoming wedding. I read about us in the society papers this morning," she said, focusing on the task at hand.

"I am no' certain I dare ask, but what are people saying?"

"That we are the match of the Edinburgh season. Which I find verra odd."

"How so? Because we are lying?"

"Nay. I believe we are both verra convincing deceivers." She found that funny. She'd never been one able to lie, barring the front she'd put on with Gerard. That was different, she was playing the part of wife and doing it convincingly. Was this the same? She was once again playing the part of wife, but this time it felt natural. Mayhap it was because she needed this to happen. Or mayhap it was because feelings were forming that she wasn't ready to acknowledge.

She thought back to the conversation at hand and chuckled. "With me being a widow remarrying. 'Tis no' my first time on the marriage market and I really should be old news that no one has any interest in. But it seems the opposite, and I find that quite odd."

Finlay shrugged. "Mayhap they realize what a lovely women ye are and canna help but talk about ye."

She shook her head. "Nay, I dinna think that is it at all. I believe, mayhap, that 'tis more so who I am marrying." She nudged him with her shoulder. "I have managed to catch the eye of one of society's most eligible bachelors. One that many a mother was clamoring to get their daughter in front of in hopes of catching the earl's eye."

"Ye flatter me, Mina. I think mayhap the gossip mongers are having a few slow days and just need to write about something to sell their papers. Tomorrow, someone will come along, or something will happen, and we will be forgotten."

They had made four loops around the square. Seen a number of men and women, couples, families. Some smiled, while others glared.

The women were the worst. The looks they hurled at Willamina she could easily ignore, but if she were younger and this was her first courtship, she would likely have a tougher time brushing off their attitudes.

"We should start thinking about dates. I ken we mentioned two weeks' time, but we need to settle on the exact date."

She nodded. "Gil would verra much like that, considering his push. He is the only family of mine that will be in attendance, so I dinna need to wait for any guests to arrive. But ye do. What of your family?"

He shrugged, his broad shoulders straining the stitching of his greatcoat. "'Tis just my brother. However, I have sent word to my best friends that I am to be married and would like them in attendance. I am certain that they will appear within the next sennight. Once they are here, any day is fine with me."

"Ye and your friends are close?"

"Aye, verra."

"Do they know what we are doing?" she whispered.

"Absolutely no'. I have told them naught other than I have met the woman of my dreams and proposed."

His eyes clashed with hers, the ice blue bright and fierce. If she did not know any better, she would think he was divulging his truth to her. But this was just a game.

She lowered her voice to ensure no one would hear what she was about to say. "Since none of this is real, what type of ceremony are ye expecting? An actual church wedding with me in a wedding gown? Or Gretna Green?"

His brows furrowed and he actually looked offended at her question. "I only plan on marrying once, Willamina. We will pull out all the bells and whistles and make this the grandest wedding that this city has seen in years. That's why there is no limit on the budget."

She opened her mouth in surprise, not able to come up with anything to say to that. Whilst she admired how he was willing to make this an extravagant event to ensure the city thought their union was real, she did not want to be the one to saddle him down. To stop him from finding true love in the future. He deserved better than that.

Better than her.

"I dinna think that is necessary. 'Tis kind of ye to say this is the only time ye will wed, but we both ken that is no' true. Once all of this blows o'er and my cousin is satisfied, and all the well-meaning, if pushy, mothers leave ye alone, we can have the marriage annulled. 'Twill be entirely possible since we willna have consummated the union."

His eyes darkened and a flash of emotion crossed his face before he replaced it with a smile. Was that sadness?

She was confused at his reaction.

"Let us no' fash about that for now. There will be plenty of time for plotting later."

She placed her hand on his chest. Warmth pooled in her palm. She wet her lips at the touch, then bit her lip and tried to clear her head from the thoughts that were running rampant in her mind.

Glorious, lustful thoughts. But thoughts she should not be having. No matter that he was going to be her husband.

"I dinna want to be the one to stand in your way from finding your true love match, Finlay. Ye canna do that with me and ye being connected forever. When the time comes, we will ken. And we will put an end to our union. Ye can e'en say 'tis me. I willna mind. I can handle another scandal."

"I will do no such thing, Willamina. Hear me when I say, I will take my vows to ye verra seriously. We will discuss this later, away from prying eyes and ears."

They continued walking, remaining silent.

Because really, what could she say to such a statement?

*

"Come to Rosewood Manor for dinner this eve. Ye can bring Gil, if ye must. Joan is welcome as well." They were nearing the end of their walk and Finlay was not ready to let Willamina go yet—at least not without guaranteeing their next meet-up.

Her eyes searched his. Mayhap she was trying to determine if he was being sincere. Indeed he was.

"We should discuss getting the plans underway. And ye can verify with your cousin what dates work for him."

Willamina laughed. "I can guarantee ye, Gil willna put up any resistance to whatever day is chosen—unless 'tis too far in the future. Then he may have something to complain about."

"I fear ye give your cousin too little credit."

She stopped walking to cross her arms over her ample bosom and cocked her head at him. "Do ye now? Have ye no' talked to him of late?" She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively in the air. "He canna wait for me to be out of Buckwood Manor. It doesna matter now, really, does it? I have no doubt that he will accept whatever date we choose, as I said before. As long as 'tis sooner rather than later."

Laughter bubbled up inside of him at Willamina's wee rant. "I guess we shall find out. Tonight at dinner. Promise me ye will come."

They began to walk again and she made a show of mulling the invite over. "I dinna ken. Mayhap another suitor with his own proposal will come knocking on Buckwood Manor's door and I will be forced to entertain him," she said slyly, a smirk lifting the corners of her pretty mouth. A mouth he wanted nothing more to do than capture with his own. If they were not in the middle of the street and Gil some paces behind them, he might have done just that. To taste her sweet lips. The urge consumed him.

He growled. "Ye wouldna dare."

"Oh?" Her brow raised in challenge. "Do ye no' think so?"

"Ye naughty minx. Ye tease me so. Whatever shall I do with ye?"

"I know naught. But ye will have plenty of time to think of such things once we are wed."

He groaned. Aloud. He could not help it. The things she was doing to him that she did not even realize.

By the time they were wed, his body would be wound so tight, he doubted it would ever unfurl.

Willamina looked at him, innocence dripping from her beautiful face and he knew she was well aware the reaction she elicited from him. And by the look of her face, she was quite proud of herself at that.

While they waited by the carriage for Gil to catch up to them, Finlay did not trust himself to speak. The thoughts that had overtaken his mind were far from proper. And for what he knew would not be the last time, he asked himself if he really knew what he was doing.

The truth was, he did not. Having Willamina live in his house, in such close proximity, and not be able to touch her? He was signing himself up for some self-torture. He only hoped he would survive such a feat.

"Ye look deep in thought. Is something weighing on your mind?" Willamina asked, her hand lightly resting on his arm.

He shook his head. "Nay. 'Tis naught."

Gil clapped him on the back as he finally joined them. "Are ye ready to return home, cousin?" He asked Willamina.

"Aye. Lord Primrose has invited us over to dinner tonight."

"Has he?"

"Actually, I asked Willamina to dinner, but I also extended the invitation to whoever else would like to join—or need to join as her chaperone."

"I am sure we will both attend. I thank ye for the invite."

Finlay nodded. "I thought we could discuss plans for the wedding."

Gil studied Willamina's reaction, and when she nodded her approval, he agreed. "What time shall we arrive?"