Heirly Ever After

by Vernon, Magan

  How easy could the lies slip off his tongue? Or would he be backed into a corner now?

  But if he was backed into a corner, then so was I.

  Shit.

  I hoped he was more prepared than me.

  “Vacation. I needed a break from Scotland and wanted to visit somewhere that wasn’t overly crowded like some of the other big cities. And I was graced with the Southern charm of Madison,” he said as cool as a damn cucumber.

  “Right, but he wasn’t the charmer at first,” I said, watching the slightest quirk of his eyebrows in challenge.

  “Ah, no, I believe we did get into an argument our first meeting and she accused me of trying to get into her knickers.”

  Lady Elizabeth covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, and I even spotted the hint of a smile cross Gavin’s face.

  “Technically you were,” I challenged.

  “Madison,” my mother chided.

  I almost forgot she was next to me.

  When Jacob talked to me, giving me that damn smile, sometimes it was like we were the only two in the room.

  But of course we weren’t, and things were getting awkward real quick.

  “I won’t admit to or deny that statement. But as you know, I’m a gentleman and knew you needed a distraction after leaving that American boy.”

  Natalie coughed, pounding her chest before she fluttered her lashes and let out a haggard breath. “You broke up with Chris? Finally? For real this time? Not just like that breakup last Christmas when he got drunk and broke the toilet seat?”

  Okay, yeah, maybe he did do that.

  Among other things.

  Yet I still stayed in bed, crying for days over the guy.

  Who now had a new girlfriend.

  And a cat.

  What did I have?

  A fake date and the fear to admit to my mom and sister that I dropped out of school because of said ex.

  Jacob nodded in response to Natalie’s questions. “She dumped him the day I met her, and I have to say, your brilliant and beautiful sister is better off without him.”

  Okay, way to answer, Jacob. You get that point.

  “That seems like such a long time ago, though. And we don’t need to hear all about Jacob and me. We’re here for your wedding,” I threw out, hoping the attention would go off us.

  “Ah, yes, for my English cousin, Lord Gavin. May you and Lady Natalie’s final days before your courtship go as smooth as this earl grey,” Jacob said, raising his glass.

  “Hear, hear,” Lady Elizabeth said, raising her glass as everyone followed.

  We all took a sip, but I noticed Gavin’s watchful eyes stayed on my date. Was the break between the families as bad as Jacob told me? There was something big going on here, and I probably needed to figure it out.

  Along with my own problems.

  I cleared my throat as soon as I set my teacup down. “Excuse me, Jacob, can we talk in the hallway?”

  Before he could respond, I stood in a flash and hoped I didn’t rattle the china on the table too much. Mom and Natalie said something, but I ignored both of them, moving toward the doors as fast as I could in wedge sandals and praying that Jacob was following.

  As soon as I stepped out into the hallway, I turned around to see the doors shutting behind me and Jacob standing there with one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other on the closing door.

  “Everything all right? The tea not to your liking?”

  “I thought we had a deal,” I whispered, narrowing my eyes so he could see how pissed I was.

  He nodded, looking down, and the damn guy even had the nerve to smile. “I know. I just didn’t expect to see Lady Elizabeth. We’d never even met before, but there was something familiar about her. I don’t know. It was a strange magnetic pull, and I couldn’t lie to her. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed, my chest tightening as I tried to come up with the right words. “Well, now we’re screwed.”

  He snapped his head up, arching a brow. “How do you figure? I think the family seems happy we’re here, and Gavin even said he was the one to send my great-grandfather the invitation.”

  “Yeah, but now they totally think we’re in some weird cahoots to get you here as my date so you could infiltrate the wedding or something.” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to appear stern and imposing in all five-foot-two inches. “What are you really planning on doing?”

  “There is no cahoots or infiltration plan. I’m here to help you, my damsel in distress, and you’ve helped me to reunite with the family I’ve never known. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

  Was that really what this all was for him?

  But what else could he want?

  “Well, where do we go from here, then? The rest of the family should be coming in, both sides. I have to do wedding prep stuff with my sister, whatever that is, and who knows what’s going to happen?” I let out a deep breath and leaned against the wall behind me. “This was all a really short-sighted idea, and now we’re stuck.”

  “We’re not stuck. We move forward.”

  “How does one move forward if they’re stuck?”

  He smiled, taking a step toward me, and I could already feel the heat of his body radiating off him. When I took in a breath, I inhaled his woodsy cologne, and if I closed my eyes tight, I swore I could taste the tea on his breath.

  Stop. Getting. Distracted.

  “Have you ever had haggis?” he asked.

  I blinked, thrown at the odd question. “Isn’t that like leftover sheep parts scrambled with stuff?”

  He let a breath out through his nose as he smiled. “It’s a traditional Scottish pudding, yes, made from parts of a sheep and seasoned with onion.”

  “Okay, um, no. I haven’t. I’m also not sure what this has to do with anything.”

  “You said you can’t move forward when you’re stuck. Well, haggis is literally that, stuck.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

  He smiled, taking another step closer so we were now toe-to-toe. “My great-grandfather used to tell me that when our lairds used to slaughter the animal, the workmen could keep the offal as their share. The leftovers. They thought they were stuck with nothing. Until their wives started making haggis.”

  I tried not to laugh, so I ended up biting my bottom lip and didn’t meet his gaze. “Not totally following, because you’re making us seem like the leftovers here.”

  Jacob shook his head then placed his palms against my cheeks. His hands were warm, rough against my soft skin, and I couldn’t help but lean into him. My own body was betraying me. “I’m letting you know we aren’t completely stuck. There’s always a way to make something work. And so it’s out there who I am now.”

  I finally met his gaze, the pleading in those dark green eyes.

  He sighed. “If you want me to leave, I will. But I want to get to know my family, and I think we could help each other here. You still need a date, and who better to help you with a noble wedding than a laird himself?”

  His words hit me like a bucket of cold water.

  I knew nothing about any of this nobility stuff. I wasn’t like my sister who had studied so much history and now had lived here for a year.

  If I was here with Chris, I’d be worried the whole time about what he was doing or about him calling a baroness “dude.” But now the focus would be on me. What if I slipped up in front of the royal family? Did they know the royal family? No doubt there were protocols for greeting noble people, for how to dress appropriately, or even for how to eat during a multi-course meal. But I didn’t know any of them. All things I never considered before and now were swimming to the forefront of my mind.

  “What kind of noble things would I actually need you for?” I asked, trying to sound confident in my words, but there was a squeak to them like Mi
nnie Mouse.

  Cocky. Dimpled. Smirk.

  That damn thing infuriated me. Yet also I couldn’t deny that there was something about it that also had me trying to tame down the way it made my heart beat faster.

  “Well, this is probably the first of many teas. Plus, there are dinners. Rehearsals. Parties. But I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling a room full of nobles.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

  The damn bastard knew the right things to ask to have all my nerves sparking at the same time. It was as if the room had gotten smaller, and I involuntarily put my hand to my throat, making sure I could still breathe.

  “Since you’re here anyway, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to keep you around as a sort of personal guide,” I managed to push out, swallowing hard. The words had taken every last bit of effort I could muster.

  The heavy door opened, and I found Natalie standing there with one hand on the handle as she leaned forward, her eyes sizing up Jacob. “Is everything okay out here?”

  I smiled, trying to muster up the same confidence that he had. Maybe I could at least fake it, and with his help, I’d survive this week. “Doing great, just needed to take a breather. But I think we’re good now.”

  Natalie glanced between the two of us, as if her narrowed eyes could magically pull out the truth from both of us. “Okay. Food is about to be served, so whenever you’re ready to join us again would be great.”

  I nodded, stepping away from Jacob and making sure I kept my back to him so I could keep my wits about me. “Right behind ya.”

  “Me too.” His words were a hot breath right on the back of my neck.

  I would keep him to help me with all things nobility and as a distraction from my family’s questions. Nothing more. We both needed each other for this wedding, and that was it.

  Or it could easily blow up in both of our faces and ruin my sister’s wedding.

  If only we weren’t in too deep now to get out.

  Chapter Six

  Jacob

  Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled out the whole “you need me to understand nobility” card on Madison, but it had been a desperate moment. Natalie had been suspicious and ready to come to Madison’s aid. And Gavin’s fiery gaze showed he’d been ready to kick me out, even though technically I had an invite…just addressed to Great-Grandfather.

  I should have just come out and said that as the oldest MacWebley, I was rightful heir to the manor or part of it at least.

  I would have if I actually had any other proof but a theory.

  But even the theory was sketchy.

  My parents and grandparents never said a word about trying to claim Webley, no matter how dire our circumstances were. I knew they’d asked for help at some point but got nothing in return.

  Now I’d come in with a letter to storm the castle, as they say, but I still needed proof before I made my claim. I’d done many internet searches on manorial law, thinking that maybe that would spell out what the MacWebleys were owed as the original owners of the manor. But with the property being a wedding gift to the former Lady Webley from the MacWebleys, that crossed off a lot of things and left open a lot of questions.

  I’d also tried to find contracts online, thinking surely those would be public domain, but nothing. That was why I was here, and hopefully I could find them hidden or buried somewhere in the manor.

  Getting here was the hard part. Now it was time to get a little more information, and as luck would have it, Natalie was a historian. Between questioning her and pushing my cousin into revealing more about the Webleys, they’d point me in the right direction.

  As we sat back down at the table, I forced the biggest smile I could as I turned in Gavin’s direction. “So, tell me, I’ve only seen older photos of Webley, but I’d love to know more about the place since you’ve become the lord of the manor. Did you get it passed down from your father?”

  Okay, off to a start.

  Maybe.

  The man was like a fucking statue, barely even nodding his head and not a single movement of any of his facial muscles. “My aunt was the one who inherited the manor, and when she passed away, the manor went to me, but we’re still in the process of drawing up paperwork so that Natalie will actually own most of the property.”

  I was glad I didn’t have anything in my mouth at that moment or it would’ve ended up dripping down his stoic face. Transferring the property to his wife? A commoner? Was that even legal?

  From what I remembered, land could be passed down by a king or other nobility, but…

  Blast.

  Madison’s laugh broke me out of my own inner thoughts. “My sister was actually hired as the curator. That’s why she knows so much of the history of the place and all of the objects.”

  Natalie nodded. “You should have seen it before I went through everything and cleaned it up.”

  “Yes,” Gavin replied evenly.

  “My late husband’s sister was what some might call a hoarder,” Lady Elizabeth whispered.

  Gavin still didn’t smile. What was it going to take to get this guy to show a little crack in his exterior?

  “Yes, Great-Aunt Sarah did have a lot of items, which is why Natalie worked with the historical society, and we’re preparing the north wing to become a museum.” He glanced at his bride-to-be, and there might have been a little hint of a smile on his face. “All Natalie’s idea of course, but not until after the wedding and honeymoon.”

  Future plans for the manor?

  So not only was she going to be the official owner, but now instead of just living there, they were going to share the family history with everyone? History that would probably just focus on the English side and not the Scottish?

  Over my dead body.

  Natalie and Madison’s mother started exchanging niceties with Lady Elizabeth, and I nodded when I was supposed to but mostly stared blankly at my teacup.

  If I declared my intentions now and wrecked this wedding, I’d piss off Madison and the entire family.

  But I needed to restore my family’s honor.

  I just had to figure out the right way to go about it.

  “Jacob.” Gavin’s crisp tone broke through the echo of noise around me.

  I looked up to that statue-like face.

  “Yes?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as neutral as his, hoping he didn’t see my fists tightly clenched under the table.

  “Join me on the back porch for a drink while the ladies discuss wedding details.” It wasn’t a question; it was a command.

  I could have stood my ground and said that I was there for Madison, but I also knew if I got some time one-on-one with my estranged cousin, I could get some questions answered. Like if he knew the MacWebley family was entitled to anything.

  “Sounds grand.” I glanced at my date. “Don’t worry, I won’t run off. My cousin will make sure of that,” I said as I stood up then rounded the table to her side.

  Leaning down, I pressed my lips lightly under her ear, feeling her suck in a deep breath beneath me. It was the first time I’d had my lips on her skin, and the searing electricity that coursed through me rendered my mouth dry.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll behave,” I whispered.

  “You’d better,” she muttered.

  I squeezed her shoulder, not sure if that was the reassuring thing to do or if it was because I needed that one last touch. To remember who exactly I’d be hurting if I ruined this for her. I shouldn’t have even cared about a girl I barely knew, but the disappointment flaring in her eyes from our first meeting and then again in the hall was worse than her being angry. It was like a knife straight to the heart.

  Gavin led the way, and I followed him from the parlor and out to a large veranda overlooking the green space with rolling hills that went as far as I could see.

  �
�So, this is all yours?” I asked as a maid pulled a bar cart in front of a bistro table.

  Gavin nodded. “The family’s, yes. Mine and Natalie’s.”

  His gaze was set on the woman pouring two crystal rocks glasses full of brown liquid that I hoped was a good scotch aged at least ten years. And with the cut of the Waterford glasses, I was thinking maybe more like thirty years and straight from the highlands.

  As soon as the woman was done, she curtsied and then headed back through the doors. It wasn’t until she completely disappeared that Gavin finally turned toward me, his mouth in a firm line and his eyes a sharp glare.

  “What are you really doing here?”

  His words might have been harsh, but I didn’t even wince, showing the man in front of me that just because he had the big manor, that didn’t make him any more nobility than me.

  “I’m here to help my friend Madison, since she needed a wedding date and I just happened to be coming to the area,” I said coolly, grabbing one of the glasses from the cart, swirling the brown liquid so I could take in the subtle hints of toffee. Seemed like we’d have to repeat our cover story a couple of times more before anyone believed us.

  “That’s bullshit and we both know that,” he spat.

  I looked up from my drink, trying to hide a smile at seeing a crack in the man’s exterior.

  “If it’s bullshite, then why did you send my great-grandfather an invitation? You obviously wanted him here.” I raised an eyebrow. “Or did you think no Scottish MacWebley would show up?”

  With one hand in his pocket, he let out a breath through his nose before sauntering toward the bar cart. He picked up his drink then took a long sip, looking out over the horizon. “No, you’re right. I didn’t actually believe a MacWebley would come.”

  “So why send the invitation? Did I miss the memo on nobility etiquette?”

  He took another slow sip of his drink, still staring off into the grass before him.

  This was a power move.

  Trying to make me squirm while I waited for his answer.

  If that’s how he was going to play, then I could, too.

  He let out a deep sigh, shaking his head but keeping his eyes out on the lawn.