Scandalous Lords and Courtship Read online

“What shall we do now?” Brody asked.

  Though tempted to remain in her room, Fiona refused to cower here. The morrow was uncertain, but worrying over the future would solve nothing.

  “Shall we return to the drawing room?” she suggested.

  Unfortunately, little there interested Brody. He stared out the rain-spattered window with longing. “I wish I could explore the grounds.”

  “Mayhap the weather will clear, and you’ll be able to later this afternoon.” Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Captain Graham would agree to Brody doing so. “Shall we find a book to read to occupy our time?” she asked, although the idea of venturing to the library and seeing the captain again sent butterflies fluttering inside her.

  Brody agreed her suggestion was better than sitting in their rooms, and Fiona led her brother back to the library. Luckily, the room was empty, and they each selected a book before returning to the drawing room. The afternoon passed slowly, the rain continuing to pelt the windows. Obviously, the weather here was as moody as the captain.

  The longer it rained, the more concerned she became about being able to leave the next day. No servant came to offer tea or other refreshments or to light a fire. A chill seeped through to her bones. What an unusual place, she thought.

  At long last, the dreary day faded gently into twilight. Hunger pangs reminded her of how long it had been since the bit of bread they’d eaten that morn. She could imagine how hungry Brody was, though he hadn’t uttered a word of complaint. Would they be expected to eat with the captain? She rather hoped not. His demeanor wouldn’t do a thing for her appetite.

  Just when she thought to find a servant to inquire about a meal, Payne arrived and announced dinner was served. She hadn’t thought to change for the meal, but doubted the captain would require such formality, if he dined with them at all.

  The servant showed them into the large dining room where Captain Graham stood at the far end of the long table. Fiona’s stomach dropped at the sight of him. His hair was freshly combed, his jacket more formal than the one he’d worn earlier. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and caused her mouth to dry.

  “Good evening,” he said with a hint of a bow.

  If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought him nervous by the way his gaze darted between her and Brody. She returned his greeting and directed her brother to sit to the captain’s left while she sat at his right.

  A large silver candelabra graced the table, casting a golden glow across the polished wood. The china and flatware were lovely; the crystal glasses glittered in the candlelight. Payne poured wine for her and the captain and water for Brody.

  “Do you enjoy living here?” Brody asked as they waited for the first course to be served.

  A long moment passed, making Fiona wonder if the captain believed children should be seen but not heard.

  But his gaze held Brody’s as if giving his question serious consideration. “I like it very much, but there are advantages and disadvantages.”

  “I think it’s wonderful.”

  The captain shared a look of amusement with Fiona, the softening of his features causing her mouth to go dry.

  “This building is the rector’s quarters. My three friends share the main sanctuary and chapter room, as well as the north and east wing of the dormitories.”

  “It must be nice to live next to your friends.” Brody’s brow wrinkled as though he tried to imagine it.

  The captain frowned. “I suppose so.”

  Fiona studied their host, unable to make sense of his situation. Why bother to move to this isolated place with friends if one didn’t enjoy spending time with them?

  “This is our first visit to the Highlands,” Fiona said, hoping to continue the conversation, as stilted as it was.

  The harsh lines of his face eased again. “’Tis beautiful here. Rugged but peaceful. I missed it when I was gone.”

  Fiona hesitated to ask anything about his time away during the war since he’d returned with injuries. From what little she knew, few soldiers enjoyed talking about their time in battle. But she desperately wanted to know if he remembered Duncan.

  “Where did you get your dog?” Brody asked as a footman served a soup made of cabbage and salted venison.

  The conversation continued, making Fiona grateful for her brother, who filled the awkward silences. The captain seemed to be going out of his way to be less gruff.

  The next course consisted of partridge, carrots and turnips in a savory sauce.

  “How do you know Sir Stirling?” Captain Graham shifted in his chair as though uncomfortable at raising the topic.

  Fiona set down her fork. “He’s a friend of the family. He and my older brother knew each other well.”

  “Knew? My apologies. I forgot you mentioned earlier it is just you and Brody.”

  She nodded, not wanting to garner his pity. While their circumstances were desperate, she didn’t care to remain where they weren’t wanted.

  He cleared his throat, glancing between her and her brother. “Might I inquire as to what afflicted the rest of your family?”

  “Our father fell ill many years ago, when Brody was quite young.” She glanced at her brother’s frown, aware of how much it upset him that he barely remembered Father. “Our older brother died in the war over a year ago, and we lost Mother to a fever shortly after that.”

  The captain looked again at Brody and paled. “Where?” A furrow marked his brow when he turned back to Fiona. “Where did your brother...?”

  “In France.” Again, she hesitated, wondering if it made a difference whether he remembered Duncan. Their surname was a common one. As a captain, he’d surely led many men over the years and couldn’t remember them all.

  “Ainsley.” Captain Graham stared beyond her as though seeing something quite different than the dining room wall. Suddenly his gaze swung to Brody. “Duncan Ainsley.”

  “Yes,” Brody said with a sad smile. “Duncan. He wrote of you often.”

  “You share his look,” the captain murmured.

  “You remember him?” Fiona struggled against her tears.

  His intense gaze swung to her, pain and something sharper flashing across his expression. “Aye.”

  Fiona clenched her trembling hands on her lap, half hoping he’d say more, half hoping he wouldn’t—not when raw pain lingered in his eyes.

  Captain Graham blinked several times then picked up his fork. “This is quite the summer storm we’re having.”

  She swallowed hard and drew a slow breath, feeling as if she’d been dismissed. Once again, she found it difficult to believe this was the man her brother had described with such admiration. How she wished she had the courage to ask what he remembered about Duncan.

  ***

  Logan waited for Miss Ainsley in the library while she settled her brother into bed for the night. Was this his punishment for failing to save his men on the battlefield? To be reminded of his ineptitude each and every day for the rest of his life by marrying the sister of one of his men?

  Or was this a chance for redemption? To right a wrong he’d never intended?

  He braced his forearm against the mantle of the empty fireplace—as empty as his heart. He had no business marrying anyone, yet what choice did he have? She’d arrived based on his agreement to consider the marriage and had nowhere to return to.

  Duncan’s face arose in memory, as clear as yesterday. The teasing glint in his eye that seemed ever present. Except for the last time he’d seen him.

  Logan ran a hand over his face, wishing to wipe away that memory along with the accompanying ache.

  The true question was whether he could abandon Duncan’s family when it was within his power to aid them.

  “Captain?” Miss Ainsley stood in the doorway, her hands gripped before her, posture ramrod straight, expression solemn. “You wished for a word?”

  He studied her, hoping for a sign, some indication that he did the right thing. “Please, come in.”
/>   Too late, he realized he should’ve had the fire lit. The cold, damp evening had invaded the room, and candlelight did little to dispel the shadows. While he counted on the gloom to hide his pain, he’d forgotten that it would hide the lady’s expression as well. Mayhap that was for the best. He’d witnessed her sorrow at the dining room table when he’d mentioned Duncan.

  Had Sir Stirling known of his connection to this woman? Known that Logan would be unable to refuse the marriage once he discovered their connection? If he was a betting man, he’d place a wager that The Marriage Maker had not only known, but that Miss Ainsley had been selected because of it.

  Logan cleared his throat, aware of the lady’s close regard. “Upon your arrival, I was unaware you were Duncan Ainsley’s sister.”

  The candlelight flickered across her face as she stepped closer. She truly was a beauty. His heart thundered at the realization that he didn’t deserve a woman like her, so strong and brave. So beautiful.

  “Our surname is quite common. Does that matter to you?”

  He hesitated, uncertain how to answer. Somehow, he’d shifted from needing her to leave to needing her to stay. The knowledge left him unbalanced and awkward. “Aye, it does.”

  “How?” She tilted her head, revealing the slim column of her neck.

  “Duncan was a good man.” He shook his head. His description didn’t do the man justice. “A good friend. An excellent soldier. Loyal and hardworking, with an enthusiasm for life.”

  “You knew him well then?” Her tear-filled eyes glittered in the candlelight.

  He nearly groaned. What was it about tears that undid him so? He resisted an urge to draw her close and reassure her all would be well.

  But all would not be well. Not if she married him.

  The choice had to be hers. She needed to understand exactly what he was before she agreed. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to confess everything.

  “As I stated upon your arrival, I do not believe we would suit.” He could feel her ire and held up a hand to request that she allow him to finish before he lost the courage to do so. “The fault lies with me. I am not the man I used to be. As you may have noted, my leg remains weak and damaged.” He gestured at the offending limb, unable to forgive himself for the injury.

  “And?” she asked with a lift of her chin as though that reason were insufficient.

  “War changes a man.” He swallowed hard against the bile in the back of his throat. “No matter on which side he fights, or how justified he thinks the cause, it can leave a man...less than he was. Broken.” He clenched his fists. “My temper is most foul. I have little patience. I sleep poorly, if at all. Wartime memories often overtake my thoughts.”

  He tipped his head back, eyes closed, to draw a deep breath, but the tight band about his chest prevented any relief. He started when a hand touched his arm. He remained motionless when she touched his shoulder, then his cheek. The band dropped away, leaving him gasping. He opened his eyes and captured her gaze.

  Longing flooded him so sharply that he leaned into her cool hand. Then she withdrew her touch, and he reminded himself that she was not here for his comfort, but rather, for him to provide for her and Brody.

  “Duncan spoke highly of you in his letters,” she said. “I appreciate your honesty, but I will tell you that I am not the person I was before the war. Some of that is for the best, but certainly not all of it. While I have not suffered as you have...” her voice trembled. She cleared her throat. “Life has not been easy.”

  They had that shared experience, at least. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” There. He’d said it. The rest was up to her. He held her gaze, telling himself he would be at peace with her answer, no matter what she decided.

  She studied him in the candlelight for a long moment, making him wonder what she saw. “I would.”

  He lifted a hand and traced a finger along her jaw to the slight dent in her chin, something he’d wanted to do since the moment she’d stepped into his library. He should explain his expectations of the match. That they’d have separate chambers as he spent much of each night pacing his room, seeking relief from both his memories and the pain. He should describe the extent of the damage to his leg, that it was a terrible sight to behold. More than any of that, he needed to tell her that the blame for her brother’s death was his. However, he couldn’t get any of those words past his lips.

  How had he thought that marrying her would be a punishment when desire for her already coursed through him? In truth, he hadn’t realized he was still capable of passion. Perhaps life in an abbey didn’t suit him as well as he’d thought. God help him, but he wanted her.

  “You’re certain?” he asked.

  “Aye,” she answered without hesitation.

  Then, to his shock, she lifted onto her toes and kissed him, as though to seal her answer.

  And his wish.

  Chapter Three

  “Good morn, Payne,” Fiona greeted the servant as she descended the stairs the next day.

  He startled before giving her a questioning look. “Is it?”

  Fiona smiled. “Indeed, it is.” Sometime in the middle of the night, about the time the rain had stopped, she’d decided one of her priorities must be to win over the elderly servant.

  She admired his protectiveness of his master. Despite the fact that she and Captain Graham would be married as soon as the roads were passable and the minister could be sent for, she couldn’t think of her husband-to-be as Logan. His given name felt far too intimate.

  As did the memory of the kiss she’d given him the previous night.

  Her cheeks heated. What had she been thinking? Now, he’d surely think her a wanton woman. Oh, but the vulnerability in his expression had tugged at her heart. Though she’d meant only to comfort him, she’d found so much more. His musky scent held a hint of rain and peat moss. His lips had been warm and firm. For a moment, she imagined she felt his hand at her waist, as if he intended to draw her closer. Passion swirled through her at the memory, much like it had during the kiss. If merely the memory of a kiss could arouse her passions, what might happen if...

  “I fear the road remains impassable,” Payne said. “Ye willnae be leavin’ this day.”

  The warm feelings dropped away. Obviously, the captain hadn’t yet advised his loyal servant of their impending marriage. Mayhap Payne wasn’t the only person she needed to win over in this stark place.

  Brody, on the other hand, had been beyond delighted. Fiona feared that his joy had more to do with his wish to spend time with the hound rather than relief over the security of their future. For the moment, she’d accept his happiness, regardless of the reason. Presently, he remained in his room, looking at one of the books they’d borrowed.

  Instead of advising Payne of the new development in her status, she’d defer that task to the captain. “I wonder if I might ask for a tour of the residence.”

  Payne frowned. “I suppose, though I don’t see the point when you’ll soon be leaving.”

  She smiled, determined not to allow his remark to bother her. “Is there a housekeeper or other servants I could meet?”

  “If you insist,” he said grudgingly.

  “I do,” she said, forcing a brighter smile. Somehow, she needed to prove to Payne that she also held the captain’s best interests at heart. But how?

  The morning passed quickly as Fiona explored the residence with Mrs. Bingsley, the housekeeper, who’d been visiting her sister when they’d arrived.

  “Can we see the remainder of the abbey?” Fiona asked once they reached the kitchen.

  “A tour of the outbuildings will have to wait until Lord Kilbreck returns with his brother and Captain Rhys and their wives,” Mrs. Bingsley answered.

  “The other men are married?” Fiona asked in surprise.

  “All but Captain Rhys.”

  Sir Stirling had said nothing about any of the other men marrying. She’d envisioned Captain Graham and his three friends alone at
the abbey.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” Mrs. Bingsley nodded to the table near the window. “I will make ye some tea.”

  Fiona liked the stout woman whose cheery demeanor was a welcome change from the men in the home. To Fiona’s relief, the servant didn’t question her interest in the abbey or its occupants.

  She also wasn’t surprised that the library and the captain’s chamber had been excluded from the rooms she was shown.

  “Should we send tea to the captain?” Fiona asked.

  “We wouldn’t want to bother him,” the housekeeper said. “Why, ’tis a miracle he allows the maid in to dust on occasion.”

  From the few details Mrs. Bingsley shared, Fiona had the impression the captain preferred his home to be as cold and bleak as possible. Did he seek to punish himself? Fiona didn’t pretend to understand, but hoped he’d allow her to implement changes. Whatever had happened during the war didn’t mean he should live without creature comforts. In her opinion, his service to his country meant he deserved far more than the simple comforts of a roaring fire and a bracing cup of tea.

  Captain Graham remained absent until luncheon. When Fiona learned he’d be dining with them, she’d coached Brody to temper his excitement at staying. She didn’t want her brother’s youthful enthusiasm to overwhelm her husband-to-be. Not this early in their relationship.

  To her disappointment, the captain barely glanced at her. His tightened expression kept her from saying more than a few words, though Brody sent her several questioning looks.

  The longer she watched the man, the more she wanted to help him, but suspected he wouldn’t welcome her intrusion. Although he offered her marriage, she didn’t think he was truly ready to share his life with her.

  How could she blame him when she felt the same? Mayhap, at some point, they would learn to trust each other enough to share their lives.

  “Would it be permissible for me to walk about the abbey?” Brody asked as the meal drew to a close.

  Captain Graham hadn’t said more than four words in one sentence since they’d sat down. Now, the way he looked at her brother, Fiona worried that the man would refuse Brody’s request.