Dare to Love a Scot

by Dayna Quince

  “And you won’t tell anyone about finding me with Lachy?”

  His expression hardened. “No. But you will, once Peverel has left. Understand? If what you have is real, it shouldn’t need to be hidden.”

  Prim held his gaze. “This coming from the man who pretended to be his own secretary whilst courting my sister?”

  “Touché,” he muttered, turning back toward the castle.

  She hesitated. “I should go back to Lachy.”

  “I think you should return with me, and think very hard about what he’s promised you.”

  She ran after him. “He hasn’t promised me anything.”

  “He’s dallying with a lady in a filthy barn without having promised her marriage? I’ll have to shoot him, you know.”

  “It isn’t like that,” Prim replied.

  She didn’t believe Erick would shoot a person, but then again, he was fiercely protective of all the Everly women.

  “Weirick will.”

  That, she could believe. Violet’s husband was a frightening man, if one didn’t know him.

  “Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone about Lachy and me.”

  He sighed. “I promise, but only on the condition that you consider what I said.” He slowed as she caught up with him. “He has a solicitor investigating the sale. From our conversation last evening, I can only gather he thinks his grandfather was taken advantage of, which very well may be the case, but there is nothing to be done for it now, and it doesn’t change the past. The castle was my mother’s dowry, and now it is our primary home.”

  “But think of how it must feel for him,” Prim said.

  “Probably similar to how it feels to me right now. Someone wants to take my home, and I’ll fight with everything I have to keep it.”

  A chill went down her spine. She prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  They parted in the kitchens, and Prim went to her room to change before meeting with Peverel. She wanted this conversation over and done with as quickly as possible. Her ex-fiancé and his family would probably stay the night at Heather’s insistence, out of politeness, but tomorrow, they would leave. All Prim wanted to do was return to Lachy and apologize for having run out on him. He had every right to be angry, but hopefully he understood that she was running after Erick, not hurrying to see Peverel.

  They had so much more to talk about, especially after the revelations at breakfast, and what Erick had told her now. Lachy hadn’t said any of these things to her. Is there a reason? Is he trying to hide something?

  Maybe he had a good reason, or he thought by mentioning it, it would create unnecessary conflict between them.

  Prim shook her head in annoyance as she tugged her dress in place and her maid ushered her to the vanity to fix her hair. She didn’t have time to see Peverel, or explain to him that she wanted nothing to do with him. Lachy needed her, or rather, she needed to see him, and gain assurance that all was well between them. She didn’t care that he was investigating the sale of the castle, and she refused to believe that he was possibly using her.

  She knew better than that…

  Didn’t I?

  A wiggling worm of doubt burrowed deeper in her heart, and she sighed. Today had begun so wonderfully, and now it was sinking further into misery.

  “Ow!” she cried, as Ingrid dug a pin into her scalp.

  The maid grimaced. “I’m sorry, Miss Prim. My hands are good for nothing today. They ache like the devil.”

  “It’s fine,” Prim assured her. “But be sure to tell Mrs. Ferguson, so she can give you something to relieve the pain.”

  “I shall do just that. ’Tis no pleasure, getting on in years.”

  Prim would have to agree. She’d thought their circumstances after her father had died had been terrible, but the thought of losing everything she felt with Lachy loomed darkly. She couldn’t imagine her life without him, even though they’d known each other for such a short time.

  She audibly swallowed, tears fighting their way to the forefront.

  Ingrid finished repining her hair and then patted her shoulder. “Now, you go flay Lord Peverel’s hide, and make sure he leaves here, his tail firmly tucked between his legs.”

  Prim smiled. “I will.”

  She stood, her legs shaky as she made her way to the drawing room. Before reaching the doorway, she could hear voices inside—that of her mother, and the shrill tone she remembered as Lady Peverel’s—her almost-mother-in-law.

  Prim paused before the mirror, checking that her eyes had sufficiently dried, and that she appeared calm. Her stomach roiled, but she marched on, entering the room with a smile so brittle she thought her face might crack.

  Heather and her mother were on one sofa, while Lady Peverel and Miss Chambers, Peverel’s sister, sat on the sofa opposite them. Her ex-fiancé was standing by the mantel, looking perfectly poised. It made Prim want to pivot and run.

  Have I stepped back in time?

  She paused, not wanting to take another step forward.

  “Do join us, Miss Prim.”

  Lady Peverel beckoned with the wave of her bone-thin hand. Miss Chambers grinned at Prim, her smile so bright, it was frightening.

  Prim wanted to step back.

  Then Peverel straightened, and their gazes caught. A rush of emotion overcame her, including a fondness she didn’t anticipate. Her eyes pooled again.

  He came toward her, taking her hands and leaning into her with a level of concern she’d never seen from him before. Feelings rushed at her, sweet and familiar, like warm milk and honey. She tried to fight them, but her memories wouldn’t let her, as if they were determined to remind her that despite his having jilted her and humiliated her, there was more to him than that moment.

  In fact, they’d shared thousands of moments.

  He’d been her best friend.

  The revelation struck her like a rogue wave. She loved Lachy, craved him, and needed him on a level she’d never experienced before, but the man before her was not her enemy.

  She’d thought she didn’t need to know why he’d jilted her, but now she demanded an explanation.

  “Why, Adam? You were my friend,” she whispered.

  “Perhaps a moment to discuss this privately is warranted,” Lady Everly said from the sofa.

  Prim nodded and turned, knowing he would follow her. She led him to her mother’s sitting room, a comforting place filled with afternoon light, fluffy pillows, and the remnants of knitting.

  Prim turned to face him and folded her arms.

  “I wish I could go back and do things differently, but I can’t. I never wanted to hurt you like that, but there was no other way.”

  Prim scoffed. “No other way than jilting me? Pray tell, what terrible circumstance prevented you from coming to me in person before our wedding, the date of which was selected two years in advance? Two years I waited to marry you, Adam, and you waited until that morning of to call it off. Were you kidnapped? Held for ransom? Did someone hold a pistol to your head and force you to jilt me?”

  He shuffled his feet. “Well, no. I tried to go through with it, but…I just couldn’t.”

  “Why?” she asked in a low growl.

  “Prim…”

  Suddenly his porcelain face crumpled, and he collapsed to his knees. It was the first time he’d used her name so informally.

  She stepped back. “Stand up, Adam. Groveling will not excuse anything.”

  He shrugged weakly, letting out a sigh with a strange hitch. When he looked up at her, Prim was surprised to see real tears in his eyes. He’d had so much control over himself when they were together. This was a side of him she’d never seen before.

  “I am in love with someone my mother—or Society—will never approve of. You were the first woman I could see myself marrying, without ever expecting love or passion. And then—then you became more than just a plausible wife, but also a friend.”

  Prim stumbled back toward the sofa and sat. Their relationship had been
mostly platonic, and she’d tried for more after the spark of desire Lachy had given her, but she’d never thought that Adam had only wanted her for nonromantic reasons. She swallowed. She wasn’t necessarily hurt by the words—more like stunned. He’d never said that he didn’t want more from her than companionship while they were betrothed, and it had just been a specter around them until Prim could no longer ignore it. Perhaps he couldn’t then, either.

  Before meeting Lachy, she might have even accepted such an arrangement.

  But now…

  She could never settle for less than what she felt for him. Though, at the moment, her love for him felt more like a stone on her chest than wings on her feet.

  “I never expected love from you,” she finally admitted. “But as friends, I deserved more than a letter, the morning of our wedding. You could have just told me you were in love with someone else, and that you wanted to back out. We could have done this much differently.”

  He covered his face with his hands. “My mother wouldn’t let me.”

  Prim gasped. “Your mother? You are a grown man! A titled gentleman. You have more power than your mother will ever have! I knew you were close, but this makes it clear that it’s past time to cut the apron strings. Heavens, Adam. Get off your knees.”

  He sniffed and did so. She waved him to a chair, feeling more like a governess than a betrayed fiancée. So, he’d been in love. Someone else had been the recipient of his desires.

  I don’t feel an ounce of jealousy, but what if we’d gone through with it?

  Having found her own love, she would never want to stand in the way of someone else’s.

  “Is that why you’re here, then? To apologize?”

  He meekly met her gaze. “That, and to beg for your hand again.”

  Prim scoffed and folded her arms. “Absolutely not.”

  “My mother won’t let it rest.”

  “Then I’ll tell her no, as well.”

  “I understand your hatred for me. I deserve nothing less.”

  “I don’t hate you.” Prim sighed and tangled her hands in her lap. “You hurt me, but I do not regret what happened. I would have been unhappy in a loveless marriage. I know that now.”

  He nodded. “I know. As the wedding moved closer, I could see my friendship wasn’t enough for you. You wanted more, and I couldn’t give it. I’m so sorry.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. He had noticed a change in her, as she’d suspected. His rejection wouldn’t have been so confusing, if only he’d been honest with her about his feelings for someone else.

  “I wish you’d told me.”

  He appeared weary and aged, as if five years had passed, and not scarcely a week since she’d last seen him.

  “I wish I could have, Prim. I wish we could both have what we want.”

  His heavy tone saddened her.

  She couldn’t be mad at him now. She got to her feet and moved to his side, taking his hand. “I forgive you, Adam, and you may still see me as a friend, but I cannot marry you. I encourage you to face your fears, and marry who you truly love.”

  His expression crumpled again, and she thought he might start crying real tears, but then he sucked in a breath and his features hardened. “I wish that were possible, but it isn’t. I thank you for the sentiments, and yes, we will always be friends, Prim. Will you permit me to write to you?”

  “Of course. I should like to know where your life takes you.”

  His smile was flat as he patted her hand. “It will take me to another bride, one who will accept my offer of marriage.”

  He looked none too happy about it, though, and Prim couldn’t bear it. “There’s no rush, is there?”

  “Only my mother’s incessant nagging.”

  She squeezed his hand, and he stood. They made their way back toward the drawing room, but Prim hesitated outside the door.

  He took her hand again. “You needn’t see my mother and sister. I have every expectation that they will be quite unpleasant.”

  She leapt at the offer. All she wanted to do was find Lachy and tell him how she felt. She needed to apologize for how she’d left him, and beg him to love her in return. She couldn’t do as Adam would and marry someone for convenience. She wanted genuine love, she was going to get it.

  She popped up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Be brave. What’s the worst she could do to you?”

  He grimaced.

  A shadow in her periphery suddenly caught her attention. Lachy stood on the stairs, and then he slowly descended, his gaze holding hers, his face a mask of hard granite.

  Prim pulled her hand from Adam’s. She cleared her throat as Lachy reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Her palms damp enough to drip sweat, she waved at Adam.

  “Lord Peverel, I present Major Lachlan Dennehy.”

  “How do you do?”

  Adam turned to greet Lachy with a polite smile.

  “Aye,” Lachy said, briefly glancing at him, before returning his cold scrutiny to Prim.

  “Miss Prim, his Grace be wanting you.”

  He nodded toward the stairs, his regard and tone just short of scathing.

  “Lachy,” Prim whispered, her voice shaking. Even when he was determined to resist her, he’d never stared at her with such scorn. “What happened?”

  “Your brother-in-law will tell you. I’ve got business to tend to.”

  His gaze raked over her figure, and then he turned his back on her and left through the front door.

  “Dear God,” Adam said, as the door closed. “Do they all look like that?”

  “They?” Prim queried, though it was hard to hear through the blood rushing through her ears.

  “Scotsmen. The ones in London look ordinary, but he… He does not.”

  She had to force her lungs to work. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  She pivoted and raced out the door, but Lachy was already too far away to hear her shouts. She considered riding after him, but she wasn’t dressed, and her horse wasn’t saddled. Every second she waited, he disappeared farther into the horizon.

  “Prim.”

  Heather’s voice shook her.

  She turned around to see her sister and brother-in-law standing there.

  “What have you done?” she demanded, stomping toward Erick. “What did you say to him!”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Erick returned calmly. “He came to me and informed me that he was leaving to pursue his investigation. He claims to have proof the castle was not sold, but leased to the earl, and that the earl having sold it to the duke was illegal.”

  “And what about me?” Prim asked, though it was idiotic.

  Why would Lachy have said anything about me? Even though her feeble heart hoped he’d wanted Erick’s permission to marry her, certainly that had not been the case this afternoon.

  “He didn’t speak of you,” Erick said, his eyes kind but his mouth stern.

  Heather came forward and hugged Prim, turning her back toward the castle. Prim sobbed into her sister’s shoulder. The drawing room door was closed as they passed, and Heather walked Prim to her room, helping her into bed and running her fingers through her hair as she cried, just like she’d done when Prim had been sick as a little girl.

  Heather’s presence and murmured words of reassurance would have been enough comfort if this was any normal sort illness, but as Prim was rapidly discovering, a broken heart was completely immune to such things. There was only one cure, and he’d just walked out of her life.

  Chapter 15

  The following week passed in a haze of painful longing, all without any word from Lachy. Prim might have dissolved into a pitiful mess if it were not for Violet’s grim determination to see her get out of bed. Then there was the presence of Adam, and his diabolical mother and sister. His mother had fallen ill the morning they were due to leave, or so she made out, and was currently holed up in a room, with servants tending to her every need. It wouldn’t have bothered Prim, but Adam’s s
ister attached herself to her brother and dragged him everywhere she went, which suspiciously, was everywhere Prim usually was.

  Given the circumstances, he might have been an annoyance, but instead, his presence was strangely soothing to Prim. He didn’t ask questions, and he was better at hiding his opinion behind a polite mask.

  She considered him as they strolled through the garden, Miss Chambers and Violet behind them. Her sister was tugging Miss Chambers along, but Adam’s sister was attempting to stall them at every flower or interesting leaf, so Prim and Adam were mostly alone.

  “What does she think will happen?”

  He shrugged. “She harbors delusions that now that you’re a ruined woman, I won’t be so reserved, and then I’ll ravish you, which will then lead to our marriage.” He shook his head. “I’m convinced she was dropped as a babe.”

  Prim wanted to laugh, but her heavy heart would not allow it. “How long do they plan to keep this up?”

  “Until they think up another potential bride to torture me, other than you.”

  “You are quite eligible, though. Why not return to London and find one yourself?”

  He grimaced and gestured for her to sit. She did, and he sat beside her with a respectable distance between them.

  “I’m sort of…persona non grata in London at the moment.”

  “Good heavens, why?” Prim asked with alarm.

  “The marriageable ladies and their mothers did not take my jilting you very well,” he confessed. “And then there were other rumors that began, and… Here we are.”

  “So, your mother just assumed I would agree to marry you all over again?”

  “She’s not thinking clearly,” he admitted. “She took the events in London very hard. I think some time in Bath with the restorative waters will be our next venture to cure her, but not until she gives up on you, I’m afraid.”

  Prim sighed again. A heaviness she’d never experienced before, invisible, and yet punishing in its relentless weight, bore down on her. Will it ever end? She tried to imagine herself older, without Lachy ever returning to her. She was glad she was sitting at the moment, or she might drop to her knees and frighten Adam. How he had come to be a source of peace for her as her heart—fiber by fiber—tore itself in two, she didn’t know. But she was glad he was still here, even if it meant his delusional mother and sister remained, as well.