The Laird's Forbidden Lady (22 page)

Not that the
ton
’s opinion would matter, living here in the wilds of Scotland. But they did matter to her papa and Dunstan made a good sounding board for its effect.

He seemed to take it in stride, because he continued to smile even if his usually warm blue eyes seemed more like a wintery grey.

She slanted a glance at Ian. His expression was thunderous.

He probably preferred her to remain silent. She leaned a little closer to Dunstan. ‘Were you able to catch the smugglers?’

The soldier flushed. ‘You know I did not. I did hear there was a woman involved. Quite the adventuress, some are saying. I doubt it myself.’ He raised a brow.

Was he trying to trick her into saying it was her?

Ian shot her a look that would make a lesser woman quake, but not one who had learned how to deal with the barbs issued by the ladies of the
ton.

She shuddered. ‘I can’t imagine any lady doing such a thing.’ She smiled up at the lieutenant. ‘It is very kind of you to take the time to escort us when these criminals are still on the loose.’

Ian snorted what sounded like a muffled laugh.

Dunstan glared at him and let his horse fall back.

‘You will get burned if you play with fire,’ Ian muttered.

‘He tried to trip me up.’

They passed through the heavy wooden gate into the keep and Ian drew the horse to a halt on the cobbles. The soldiers halted behind them in a clatter of hooves.

What had Ian said the day he brought her home last time? Oh, yes. He would not enter the gates while the keep was owned by another. Well, soon it would be his.

Dunstan once more brought his horse alongside. ‘One question for you, Gilvry.’ His voice was sharp, his hand on his pistol. ‘How did you manage a wedding in less than two days?’

Ian looked over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed. She turned to look at the soldiers guarding the gate behind them. There was no way out. Oh, dear, they were effectively trapped. She glanced at Ian in consternation.

He raised an arrogant brow and looked at the other man. Was he planning on fighting for her, after all? If Ian was him, he would have. He held the other man’s gaze. ‘Scottish law doesn’t require banns or a licence.’

Dunstan frowned. ‘There are some formalities, though, surely?’

‘All addressed and very nicely, too.’ Ian’s smile widened and his eyes showed a knowledge the other man would instantly understand.

Selina blushed.

The horse beneath Dunstan pranced sideways at a sudden tightening of the reins.

A palpable hit, Ian thought. Not quite a bullet to the arm, but close enough. Ian turned his attention to the portly gentleman coming down the steps into the courtyard. Albright. His father-in-law.

His colour was an unhealthy red. He rushed to the gig and helped Selina down, holding her in a tight embrace.

Something rushed through Ian’s veins in a hot tide. He forced himself to step down slowly and walk around the front of the horse and stand behind his wife.

Albright held her away from him, his gaze travelling over her. ‘Thank God you are safe. You gave me such a scare.’

Tears brightened Selina’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Father.’ Scarlet rose in her cheeks.

Ian waited for her introduction.

Was she ashamed to admit her newly married state? He would not be surprised if she was. A
little disappointed, perhaps even a trifle pained, but not surprised.

Albright became aware of his presence. His frantic gaze went to Dunstan, who hung back with his men. ‘Arrest this man. He is a smuggler. He abducted my daughter.’

The blond soldier curled his lip. ‘There has been no abduction, I am sorry to say, my lord. He has cleverly ensured your daughter cannot give evidence with regard to the charge of smuggling.’ The starchy prig gave a stiff nod. ‘If you will excuse me, my lord, I will be about the king’s business.’ He brought his horse’s head around and moved off.

Selina frowned.

Ian held his breath, waiting for her to realise what Dunstan meant. For her to realise his real purpose for the marriage. The one thing he could not deny.

Her puzzled gaze followed the soldier, then comprehension filled her eyes, followed swiftly by fury as she turned on him. ‘So that was part of your game, too. You really are despicable.’

His anger flared. ‘Tell your father our news, Selina,’ he said harshly, ‘or I will.’

Her shoulders sagged as she turned back to the old man also watching the soldiers leave, his jaw slack with astonishment.

She took a deep breath. ‘Father, I would like you to welcome my husband, Ian Gilvry.’

‘What?’ he said, his mouth opening and closing, his jowls wobbling. ‘What?’

Ian thought the old man would drop dead on the spot of apoplexy.

‘I married Mr Gilvry.’

‘No.’ His gaze shot to Ian. ‘It is not possible. There hasn’t been enough time.’

‘Under Scottish law it is quite possible,’ Ian said. He was getting quite weary of explaining his country’s laws.

Albright’s wife came running down the steps, her face full of happiness. ‘Selina, dear. You are safe.’

‘Apparently not,’ her father said. ‘She has married this fellow.’

He didn’t like being called a fellow, either.

‘My ancestry in the Scottish nobility goes back far longer than yours does in the ranks of the English,’ he said. ‘You can address me as Gilvry, or Laird. But I do not answer to fellow or you or lad.’

Albright reared back. ‘You are insolent, sir.’

‘Sir is all right, too.’

‘Father, Papa,’ Selina said in soothing tones, her voice light and breathy. ‘I am married to Ian Gilvry. There is nothing anyone can do to change it.’

There went the twang of his conscience again. It wasn’t as if she’d been asked for her hand and had accepted. Not in the sense a young
woman of her rank would expect to be asked. He’d tricked her, just as she’d said. Not that she hadn’t been a willing participant in the resulting seduction, he thought darkly.

‘May I say how pleased I am that Lady Selina accepted my suit,’ he said politely.

The old man looked ready to explode. He kept his face fixed on Selina. ‘Why? When you could have had so much more?’

‘It is too late for regrets,’ she said, but regret showed on her face.

Ian wanted to hit something.

‘You could have had a duke or an earl.’

‘Before the accident, Father.’

‘I would have settled enough on you to make it happen. I told you that. But you said you wanted Dunstan. And now this? A criminal. And Scottish to boot.’ He glared at Ian. ‘What have you done to my daughter?’

‘Melville,’ his pretty wife whispered, putting a hand on his sleeve. He looked at it and seemed to gather himself. It stopped his tirade at any rate.

Selina’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry, Father. It was all my own doing. There was really no other option.’

So she wasn’t going to tell her father how he’d tricked her.

Albright’s face reddened further. ‘You should be ashamed.’

He’d had enough of listening to the father castigate his wife. ‘Whatever your opinion of me, my lord,’ he said stiffly, ‘your daughter is now legally my wife. As is usual under these circumstances, I believe there are certain settlements to be made.’

The colour drained from the old man’s face. And from Selina’s too, he saw. What? Did she think he wouldn’t insist she receive her dowry? Did she think he would allow her to live in poverty?

‘Very well,’ Albright said. ‘Come to my study, Gilvry. Take your spoils.’ He glared at his wife. ‘Lady Albright, be ready to leave in an hour. As for you, daughter, I would prefer not to look on your face before I depart.’

She reached out a hand. ‘Papa, can you not understand that this could be a good thing?’

Her defence surprised him, but he could see it was hopeless.

‘I see nothing of the sort.’

The stricken look in Selina’s eyes gave Ian a pain in his gut.

Albright, his arm linked through his wife’s, turned and walked heavily up the steps. ‘Come now or come not at all, Gilvry.’

Much as he would have liked to stay and comfort
Selina, he had to get this business done. He gave her a quick hug. ‘Wait here.’

She looked ready to argue.

‘Wait.’

Chapter Sixteen

S
elina stared up at the old stone walls that were about to become her home. Permanently.

Years ago, dazed by his kisses, she’d dreamed of this. Now the dream of a foolish schoolgirl had come true. But not in the way she had imagined. There was no love involved. Just advantage.

What a fool. One smile, one look at his face and the defences she’d built up over the years had instantly crumbled.

What if Father never forgave her for this last piece of folly? What if he refused to see her ever again?

Perhaps Chrissie could soften his anger.

She looked up at her father’s study window. No doubt her husband and father would be engaged for a while. She ran up the steps and
headed for Chrissie’s chamber with hope in her heart.

She passed through the chamber with the oriole window overlooking the courtyard that would have once been the lord’s chamber and now served as Chrissie’s sitting room and into the bedchamber where she heard sounds of movement.

Chrissie was directing her maid with the packing.

She looked up at Selina’s entry with a small gasp. ‘Oh, Selina,’ she said, looking sorrowful. She glanced at the maid and walked into the sitting room before speaking. ‘Your father was out of his mind with worry. And now this?’

‘I know he’s upset and disappointed, but perhaps in time he will forgive me, don’t you think?’

Chrissie looked at her. ‘Not for a long while, I think. His heart is wounded, he had great hopes of Dunstan.’

It was more likely it was his pride she had wounded. A footman knocked. ‘Come for the baggage, my lady.’ They remained silent as he carried out Chrissie’s trunks and boxes, the maid following along behind admonishing him to be careful.

‘Will you write to me?’ Selina asked. ‘Tell me how he fares from time to time?’

‘If he does not forbid it.’ Chrissie smiled her
sweet smile. ‘But then, I will not ask his permission, I shall assume it. And I will speak to him on your behalf, when he comes down from the boughs.’

It was time to say farewell. Selina held out a hand. ‘Oh, Chrissie, I am truly sorry for spoiling your visit to Scotland.’

Chrissie shook her head a little ruefully. ‘It has certainly been a good deal more … exciting than I expected.’

Chrissie clasped her hands together and paced to the window, then swung around to face Selina. ‘I wish I’d never asked Melville to bring us.’

‘Me, too,’ Selina said. She couldn’t help her sigh. ‘I thought I had the future so carefully planned.’ And she had given it all up for a devil’s kiss.

A noise at the open door brought her head up. She winced as she saw Ian standing there looking like thunder. ‘I thought I told you to wait,’ he said.

‘I wanted to bid Chrissie farewell.’

‘Well, do it now. Her ladyship’s carriage awaits.’

Tears glinting in her eyes, Chrissie threw her arms around her and hugged her close. ‘I’ll speak to him for you.’ Head down, not looking at Ian, she whisked out of the room.

Ian’s hard expression softened. ‘Your father
doesn’t like this wedding any more than does my family. We can only hope they both come around. Come.’ He held out his hand. ‘We will watch them depart from the ramparts.’

He tucked her hand under his arm and walked her along the corridor to the door that opened onto the winding staircase that led up to the small platform behind the tower’s crenellation.

The narrow steps meant they had to go single file. She pressed the latch on the door at the top and stepped outside. She hadn’t been up here for a very long time and gasped at the strength of the wind and the way it buffeted against her ears. Her father’s carriage was already passing through the arch.

Gone without so much as a farewell and certainly no blessing. She had the sense she might never see him again. Prickles stung the back of her eyes. Her vision misted. She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at the receding carriage, wishing with all her heart things could have been different.

Had she known what would come of her attempt to help, would she have rushed out into the night? The answer wasn’t quite as clear in her mind as she thought it should be.

Ian looked at her straight back and the way the skirts of that shockingly red skirt clung to her slender legs, held there by the wind, and
didn’t know what to say as she watched her father’s coach disappear.

He wanted to offer comfort, but her straight back and stiff body shut him out. He had the feeling whatever he said would be wrong.

He was married, but somehow, at this moment, he felt lonelier than he’d ever felt during all his years as Laird. Being in charge of his people was a duty he could not share with anyone else. Except a wife, perhaps. The right sort of wife.

In the past he’d made decisions he wasn’t proud of, made mistakes, too, and those were his burdens to shoulder. But he’d always imagined that marriage would give him someone to share in his joys and, damn it, his sorrows in a way that brothers or clan members could not.

But the clan didn’t seem at all ready to accept her. And they could be cruel to outsiders. A shudder passed down his spine as he recalled what his brothers had said to her when they were younger.

He would do all he could to protect her from their anger. In time they would come to accept the idea. They must. While this marriage had not started off on the best of feet, surely it could only get better from here.

He put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened beneath his fingers, but then turned to face him.

His gut lurched. She’d been crying. He could see the moisture in her eyes.

An emotion he hadn’t expected rose in his gorge. ‘Are you so sorry for losing Dunstan, then?’

Damn, why did he have to ask that?

She looked at him for a moment, blinking back her tears before she spoke. ‘He would have made a perfect husband. He was my choice.’ She bit her lip and turned her face away as if appalled at what she’d said.