Chapter Sixteen

M alcolm waited on bated breath like a lad daring his first kiss. What the hell had him so unsure of himself? Surely, this is what his friends felt when they’d come to the realization that they’d met the woman they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with.

And that was exactly what he wanted to do with Lizzie.

He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she absorbed what he’d proposed. Her face breaking into a beautiful smile that the devil himself wouldn’t be able to steal away.

She bobbed her head up and down before throwing her arms around his neck. He inhaled the scent of her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Mary stepped forward to intervene, but he stopped her with a wave of her hand and then unwound himself from Lizzie’s embrace.

“Afore we have any such displays as this, I must speak to your father.”

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout, but she nodded her head in agreement.

“Ye’ve a point. Mayhap we should make our way inside so that ye may have the necessary discussion?”

Thirty minutes later, Sir Barclay ushered Malcolm into his study and pointed to a chair for him to take a seat.

“Whisky?” he asked.

Malcolm nodded. Who was he to turn down a good dram? He’d be daft to do so.

“Thank ye,” he said as he took the glass and swirled the amber liquid in the crystal glass he’d been given.

Barclay took a seat behind his desk and leaned back, crossing his legs. “I’ve been informed that ye have something important to discuss with me.” He paused, waiting patiently for Malcolm to speak.

Malcolm cleared his throat and tilted his head from side to side, trying to relieve the tension that had built up in his neck. It was stupid really. Considering he was a grown man. He’d served in the war for Christ’s sake.

How did this wisp of a lass bring him to his knees?

Her charm. Her wit. Her beauty. And as much as it was not the proper countenance, her forwardness. He absolutely loved that about her. That she wasn’t scared to tell him what she felt. What she wanted. He found it absolutely enticing.

“In the past several days that I have spent with your daughter, I have found myself inexplicably drawn to her. She’s smart, and beautiful, with a personality I’ve no’ oft seen.”

Barclay raised a brow in question at the last part of his statement.

“That is in nay means an insult, sir. I find it quite,” he paused, searching for the correct word, “refreshing. All of this to say that I would like your blessing to court your daughter.”

He waited, not realizing he held his breath until Barclay gave him his blessing and his breath rushed out in a huff.

“Of course, she has a dowry, but I suspect that ye are well enough established that ’tis no’ of need or plays any part in ye asking for the courtship.”

“’Tis true. I am in nay need of any monetary gains from Lizzie. Whate’er coin or land she currently holds as dowry will remain hers to deal with as she pleases. I’ve nay interest in acquiring that from your daughter or family.”

And he meant it. Money was of no interest to him. He had plenty. Culzean and his estates were very successful. His father, grandfather, and the rest of his line before them were all incredibly savvy with running the Kennedy books.

The knowledge that even though he’d only asked for permission to court Lizzie, not marry her, though that was how they were speaking, was not lost on him. He actually quite liked the idea of spending his days with Lizzie.

Could he see her as Lady Kennedy? He could. With her personality she would run his estates with ease and authority.

But he couldn’t get ahead of himself. Hell’s teeth, he couldn’t very well propose yet.

Or could he? It wasn’t that long ago that he’d sworn off ever being in a committed relationship. But with Lizzie he also learned that it was okay to trust in someone. To believe in them. Something that, outside of his group of friends, he hadn’t done since the war.

“Well, I think cheers are in order.” Barclay held up his glass of whisky, pulling Malcolm’s attention back to him. “Slàinte Math!”

Malcolm dipped his head in thanks and repeated the cheer. “Slàinte Math!” Then in one long swallow emptied his glass of whisky and set the glass down.

Standing, he held out his hand to shake Barclay’s. “I thank ye for your blessing. I vow to take great care of her.”

“I shall hold ye to that promise. Now, I’m sure ye want to give the good news to Lizzie. Go on. For certain she is pacing the hall waiting for an answer.”

Malcolm nodded and swept out of the room. It didn’t take long to find Lizzie, she practically launched herself at him as he rounded the corridor that would lead him to the solar where he expected to find her.

“Well, what did he say?” she asked impatiently, between a smattering of kisses she planted on his cheeks.

He laughed aloud. “’Tis a good thing your papa said aye, otherwise this behavior would be most improper and have ye confined to your room.”

She hugged him close. “I kenned he would say aye.”

“How so?” he asked as he set her on her feet but kept ahold of her hand.

“He could see it. He’s quite observant.”

“Aye. So what shall we do now?”

“The hour grows late, but we could catch a show at the theater. If ye like the theater, that is. Funny, I’ve ne’er asked. I just assumed ye do. But ye may no’. We dinna have to go to—”

“Lizzie, Lass.” He grasped her arms and spun her to face him. “Stop. Whate’er makes ye happy, I will do.”

So they did. The theater that night was their first foray into society as a couple. Lizzie received some looks that he could only describe as jealousy, but she didn’t let them bother her in the least.

Malcolm was unsure what the lasses were jealous of. He’d never seen them before, so surely, he wasn’t a potential suitor for them anyhow.

Sitting in the box that Barclay was kind enough to let them use, they watched the play as it unfolded in front of them.

The theater had never been one of his favorite things to do, but with Lizzie at his side, watching her reactions throughout the play, he found he was quite enjoying himself.

But it wasn’t the play.

It was his company.

*

Lizzie felt like she was floating as she and Malcolm arrived to watch the play. Women she had kenned for years raised their eyebrows in surprise as Malcolm escorted her to their seat. A couple of them actually approached them to introduce themselves.

Of course, Lizzie kenned what they were doing. Fishing for information, no less. It didn’t matter. Their courtship would be all over the gossip papers in the morning.

And she didn’t mind that one bit.

“Well, Lizzie, who do we have here?” Matilda Smith asked as she lifted her hand for Malcolm to take.

Lizzie rolled her eyes at the audacity of the woman. They had attended etiquette school together and Matilda always took flirting to a whole new level as she looked at Malcolm, batting her eyelashes while she curtsied low to give him a glimpse of her cleavage.

With a reluctant sigh, she made the introductions. “Malcolm, this is Matilda, an old classmate. Matilda, this is Malcolm Kennedy, Earl of Cassilis.”

“Earl,” she drawled, dropping into another curtsy. “My lord, ’tis a pleasure to meet ye.”

Malcolm dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“What brings ye to Stonehaven?”

Not missing a beat, Malcolm bent and placed a kiss on Lizzie’s cheek. “Lizzie brought me here. And happy I am for it.”

Matilda’s eyes rounded in shock. “Well, that is a surprise. A lucky woman she is,” she remarked sarcastically.

“Nay,” Malcolm countered, shaking his head. “’Tis I that is lucky.” He picked up her hand and kissed the top, letting his lips linger.

Matilda gasped and quickly excused herself.

When she was gone, Lizzie struck him in the chest playfully. “Ye are awful,” she said with a giggle.

“Awful, but truthful.” His eyes held hers and heat pooled in her stomach. Whenever he looked at her with such intensity, she felt like she could drown in those beautiful eyes of his.

“For certain, Matilda has run off to her circle of friends and is telling them all about us.”

“I have no regrets.”

With intermission finished, the curtains pulled open, and the second half of the play began. They sat in silence, watching the conclusion unfold in front of them. All the while, Malcolm held her hand and she couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky she was.

Earl or nay, Malcolm was a special man, and he’d chosen her. And that made her ridiculously happy.

“Me neither.”

Later that night, after she’d retired to her room, she practically felt as if she were floating. So happy was she, she couldn’t stop the squeal that burst from her mouth.

When she’d bid Malcolm a good night, he was once again speaking with her papa in the study. They talked of subjects she found most uninteresting—accounts, estates, business. The conversation made Lizzie’s eyes glaze over, so she excused herself and let them continue.

A knock sounded and Mary poked her head inside the room.

“Come in!” Lizzie exclaimed excitedly, patting the bed beside her.

“Miss, ye are the talk of the estate. I am no’ surprised in the least.” She looked towards the closed door. “No’ only because of the kisses I saw ye both stealing, but ye and the earl’s eyes gave it away e’ery time each of ye looked at each other.”

“I can hardly believe Papa agreed.”

“Pfft. Why wouldna he? Lord Kennedy is an earl. Ye will be a lady, miss.”

Lizzie squealed again. “We have no’ discussed marriage, and no proposal has been made. ’Tis just a courtship right now.”

“Och, ’tis plain to see. A proposal will most certainly be forthcoming.”

Did she even dare to wish for it? She didn’t want to hope for something that might not come to fruition, but oh, she wanted it to be so. More than she was willing to admit.

“Let’s get ye ready for bed. After your trip to the theater, ye and the earl will be the talk of the city.”

She sighed. It had been some time since the Barclay name had been the talk of society. Not since the death of her brother those years ago. At least this time the interest was for good news.

Well, Matilda may say otherwise, but Lizzie paid her no attention. Though they were acquainted through etiquette school, they had never spent any time together outside of that. Matilda held herself in way too high regard for Lizzie’s liking.

But none of that mattered.

Matilda’s attitude and personality promised that she would grow old alone. Unless her parents married her off. Because right now, Matilda had no prospects, and her countenance guaranteed that none would be forthcoming with the exception of her parents coming into a large sum of money. They were not poor by any means, but Lizzie was sure her dowry was modest at best.

She didn’t want to think about Matilda. Instead, her thoughts shifted to Malcolm and a smile broke out on her face. She couldn’t help it.

“Ye will be mistress of Culzean Castle, Miss. How exciting is that?”

“Mary! Dinna say such things.” Her cheeks heated at the thought. She’d never run a household afore. The mere thought made her break out in a cold sweat. Would she be up to the job? Of course, she’d seen her mother run Tolton Hall like a well- oiled engine. But it was something completely different when she thought of having to do the same thing herself. And for a castle, no less.

“Och, dinna fash about it now, Miss. Ye will have plenty of time for such things in the future when the time arises. For now, ye just need to concentrate on the here and now.”

Lizzie dropped back on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. “I wonder what the morrow will bring. For certain, Malcolm willna leave for Culzean right away.” Or would he? She worried her bottom lip.

Mary pulled the drapes shut over the windows, blocking out the moonlit sky.

“I dinna think he will, Miss. I have a feeling that he will be spending a fair amount of time in Stonehaven.” She patted the chair in front of the vanity. “Come sit and I’ll brush your hair before bed. Ye need your rest for the morrow. I’ve a feeling ’twill be a busy one and ye want to look your best.”

Mary was right. The last thing she wanted when she faced everything tomorrow was her eyes puffy with lack of sleep.

After her hair was brushed to a shine, Mary ordered her under the covers. And as she drifted off to sleep, visions of Malcolm’s handsome face flooded her mind. She burrowed into the blankets, a smile on her face. Life couldn’t possibly get better than this, she thought before falling asleep.

How very wrong she had been.