When a Scot Ties the Knot (4 page)

BOOK: When a Scot Ties the Knot
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Chapter Three

O
nce she'd reached her decision, Maddie washed her face, sipped some brandy, and readied herself to go out and confront Captain Logan MacKenzie.

She got as far as the doorway—­where he appeared, looking for her.

His gaze swept her up and down, leaving her painted with gooseflesh.

“You look as though you could use some air,
mo chridhe.
Let's take a stroll and talk, the two of us.”

“Very well,” she agreed, a bit dismayed that it wasn't her idea now. She wanted to be in control. Or at the very least, holding her own.

But how could she ever hold her own with a man like this?

Maddie struggled to keep up with him as they walked out of the castle and through the arched stone gateway. His long, easy strides translated to a brisk pace for her.

They emerged from the castle's shadow into the afternoon sun and walked out toward the loch's edge. The weather was deceptively cheery—­sunny and warm for April, with a gentle freshness in the breeze. The sky and water seemed to be having a contest to out-­blue one another.

Captain MacKenzie's eyes bested them both.

“What a bonny afternoon to walk along the waterfront,” he said. “Just like old times, in Brighton.”

“You can stop teasing me. I'm well aware that I was a fool at sixteen. But I didn't stop maturing when I stopped writing you letters. I've grown into a woman.”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Yes. An independent woman. One who manages her own household and affairs. So let us be direct.”

They came to a halt on a small spit of land that extended into the loch like a gnarled green finger.

Heavens, he was so tall. Maddie realized that she was going to have an ache in her neck from staring up at him. She stepped onto a large, flat rock, closing their height difference to a more manageable amount.

Unfortunately, closing that distance only brought her closer to his handsome features and breathtaking eyes.

His attractiveness didn't matter, she reminded herself. This was
not
a long-­abandoned dream miraculously come true. This man was
not
the heroic Captain MacKenzie she'd invented. He was just a soldier who happened to share the same name.

And he certainly wasn't in love with her.

No, this man wanted something, and that something wasn't Maddie. If she could learn what his goal was, perhaps she could convince him to go away.

“You said you don't want money. What is it you're after?”

“I'm after this, lass.” He nodded toward the loch. “The castle. The land. And I'm prepared to do anything to get it. Even marrying a deceitful English minx.”

At last, here was an explanation she found credible.

Unfortunately, she also found it terrible.

“You can't force me to wed you.”

“I willna need to force you. You'll wed me eagerly enough. As you say, you're an independent woman now. 'Twould be a shame for these letters”—­he pulled the yellowed paper from his breast pocket—­“to fall into the wrong hands.”

He cleared his throat and began to read. “ 'My Dear Captain MacWhimsy. This morning, the dreadful Miss Price came to call. Lavinia is always prodding me for stories about you. Today she asked if we had kissed. I said of course we had. And then of course she had to ask me what the kiss was like.' ”

As he read, Maddie felt her face growing hotter. The edges of her vision turned a pulsing shade of red. “That's enough, thank you.”

He went on reading. “ 'I should have said something insipid, like
sweet
or
nice
. Or better yet, nothing at all. Instead . . .' ”

“Captain MacKenzie, please.”

“ 'Instead,' ” he continued, “ 'this silly, boastful word tripped off my tongue. I'm not certain where it came from. But once it was out there, I couldn't take it back. Oh, my captain. I told Miss Price our kiss was—­' ”

She dove for the paper. He raised his hand overhead, removing it from her reach. Despite herself, she hopped in a futile attempt to grab it. He chuckled at her attempt, and she felt the loss of dignity keenly.

“ 'I told Miss Price our kiss was
incendiary,
' ” he finished.

Oh, Lord.

He folded the paper and returned it to his breast pocket. “This one isna so bad, really. There are more. Many more. You may recall, they grew quite personal.”

Yes. She recalled.

For young Maddie, those letters had served as a diary of sorts. She would write down the things she didn't dare speak aloud. All her petty complaints, all her most uncharitable thoughts born of adolescent moods and disappointments. Her ill-­informed dreams about what love
could
be between a woman and a man. She'd sent those letters to Captain MacKenzie precisely because she'd never wanted anyone who knew her to read them.

And now he threatened to expose them to the world.

A sense of despair churned in her belly. She felt as though she'd spent her youth stuffing heartfelt wishes into bottles and tossing them into the ocean—­and suddenly, years later, they'd all been returned.

By a sea monster.

“What if I refuse to marry you?” she asked.

“Then I think I'll forward your letters on to someone else. Someone who'd be verra interested.”

She winced. “I suppose you mean my father.”

“No, I was thinking of the London scandal sheets. Most likely I'd go to both and see which one will offer me more money.”

“I can't believe anyone would be that heartless.”

Chuckling, he touched the folded letter to her cheek. “We're just getting acquainted,
mo chridhe.
But believe me when I tell you I'm nothing you ever wanted and worse than you could have dreamed.”

Of course he would be.

This was a perfect example of Maddie's luck. Of all the ranks in the army, all the names in Christendom, and all the clans in the Highlands . . . she had to randomly choose his.

If this had only been a matter of some mortification, Maddie would have taken that punishment, and gladly. However, if those letters became public, it would mean more than simple embarrassment.

­People laughed at a fool; they hated a fraud. Perhaps she hadn't set out to deceive all of England, but she'd made no objections to stirring her family's sympathy and her peers' jealousy. Years later, after the captain's supposed death, she'd accepted their condolences.

She'd even accepted a
castle
.

All of her acquaintances would know that Maddie had deceived them, and for the silliest of reasons. The gossip would haunt her family for years. And who would commission scientific illustrations from a woman infamous for lies? She could find herself all alone with no means of support.

Her sense of panic only grew.

“Let's discuss this rationally,” she said. “You're proposing to blackmail me with letters I wrote when I was sixteen years old. Didn't you do anything rash and foolish when you were sixteen years old?”

“I most certainly did.”

“Good,” Maddie said eagerly. Perhaps she could convince him to be sympathetic. He would agree that no one should be forced to pay a lifelong price for youthful folly. “And what was your foolish choice?”

“I joined the army,” he said. “More than ten years later, I'm not through paying for that choice. Most of my friends paid with their lives.”

She bit her lip. When he put it that way . . .

“Please try to understand. If you read my letters, you must believe I took no pleasure in lying. It simply mushroomed beyond my control. I've wished so many times that I'd never said anything.”

“You'd take it all back?”

“Yes.
In a heartbeat.”

She thought he flinched a little at her eagerness, but maybe it was just her imagination. She had a well-­established surfeit of imagination. Particularly when it came to men in kilts.

“If you want to take back your lies,” he said, “then you should marry me.”

“How do you reason that?”

“Think on it. You wrote letters to your Scottish intended. I received them. Those are the plain facts, are they not?”

“I suppose.”

“Once you marry me, none of it is a lie,” he pointed out. “It will be exactly as though you've told the truth all these years.”

“Except for the part where we love each other.”

He shrugged. “That's a minor detail. Love is just a lie ­people tell themselves.”

Maddie wanted to disagree with that statement, but she wasn't sure she could make a convincing case. Not from personal experience, at any rate.

And despite herself, she was growing intrigued. “What kind of arrangement are you suggesting?”

“A simple one. We marry for our own reasons, as a mutually beneficial arrangement. I get the property. You'll get your letters back.”

“What about . . .” Her cheeks warmed with a blush. “You know.”

“I'm not sure I do know.”

He knew what she meant, the rogue. He just wanted the amusement of making her say it.

She forced the words out. “What about marital relations?”

“Do I mean to ravish you, you mean?” He lifted a brow. “The marriage must be consummated. But I'm not interested in children.”

“Oh. I'm not interested in children, either.”

That wasn't precisely true. Maddie loved babies. But for one reason and another, she'd long given up on the idea of motherhood for herself. It wouldn't be much sacrifice to jettison the last raft of hope now.

“So just one night of consummation?” she asked. “And no emotional involvement whatsoever.”

He nodded. “We'll only need to live together for a few months. Long enough for me to establish ownership of the place. I'll build some cottages, put crops in the ground. Then you're free to do as you please.”

“You mean leave? What would I tell my family?”

“That we're like any other ­couple who married in haste and then found themselves reconsidering, wanting to live apart. It's not uncommon.”

“No,” Maddie admitted. “It isn't uncommon. In fact, that wouldn't even be a lie.”

Her head was spinning.

The idea of marriage had sounded preposterous at first. But maybe this
was
the next-­best thing to going back in time. Perhaps she really
could
take it back—­this ridiculous, impetuous tale that had taken over her life.

And, oh—­her heart pinched.

For the first time in years, she could visit her family without feeling like a fraud. This web of lies she'd spun had made it impossible for her to confide in anyone. She didn't dare let anyone too close.

The loneliness had worn on her. Most dreadfully.

And when she wasn't visiting friends or family, she could stay in the castle and continue her work in peace. Captain MacKenzie would be busy managing the lands. She only needed to share a bed with him the once.

She stole a glance at his bare legs.

Perhaps that bedding part wouldn't be entirely terrible. At the least, she would have the chance to satisfy a few matters of curiosity. She spent her days waiting on lobsters to have intercourse. Naturally, she'd wondered about the human equivalent from time to time.

“I need your choice, lass,” he said. “Will you be marrying me, or will I be forwarding all these letters to the London scandal sheets?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Do you promise me that no one will ever know the truth?”

“I swear they willna know it from me.”

“And I will be free to continue my own interests and pursuits.”

He nodded. “You have your life, and I'll have mine.”

Maddie felt dizzy, as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice. She took a deep breath, gathered her nerve . . . then jumped.

“Very well, I accept. We can be married as soon as it's practicable.”

“Practicable?” He laughed. “This is Scotland, lass. There's no need to wait for banns or be married in a kirk.”

“But you promised no one would suspect the truth. That means you must appear to be fond of me, at least at first. I think if you were truly
my
Captain MacKenzie, and we'd waited all these years to be together, you would want me to have a proper wedding.”

He closed the distance between them.

“Lass, if I were truly
your
Captain MacKenzie, and I'd spent years at war, yearning for the one woman I wanted to hold more than life itself . . . ?” He touched a lock of her hair. “I wouldna wait another night.”

She swallowed hard. “Truly?”

“Aye, truly. And I would have done this an hour ago.”

His head tipped to the side. His gaze dropped to her lips. And then his mouth did the strangest thing.

It started drawing closer to hers.

He couldn't be—­

Oh, Lord. He was. He was going to kiss her.

“Wait.” Panicked, Maddie put both hands on his chest, holding him off. “Your men, my servants . . . they could be watching us.”

“I'm certain they're watching us. That's why we're going to kiss.”

“But I don't know how. You know I don't know how.”

His lips quirked. “I know how.”

Those three little words, spoken in that low, devastating Scottish burr, did absolutely nothing to ease Maddie's concerns.

Thankfully, she had a reprieve. He pulled back and peered at her hair. He looked like a boy marveling at clockwork, wondering how it all worked. After a few moments, she felt him grasp the pencil holding her chignon.

With one long, slow tug, he eased it loose and cast it aside.

It landed in the loch with a splash.

His fingers sifted through her hair, teasing the locks free of their haphazard knot and arranging them about her shoulders. Tenderly. Like she'd always imagined a lover would. Sparks of sensation danced from her scalp to her toes.

BOOK: When a Scot Ties the Knot
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