The Highlander and the Wallflower

by Michelle Willingham

  Give him a chance, she told herself. Be honest.

  She took a sip of her tea. ‘Cards aren’t my favourite pastime, I fear.’

  ‘Then what? Watercolours? Reading? Hunting boar?’

  She choked on her tea at his last suggestion, and laughter caught in her throat. Boar? What had prompted that question? She bit her lip, trying to keep her mirth under command. His humour was entirely unexpected. ‘I cannot say that I’ve ever hunted boar.’

  ‘Wolves, then?’ he offered. ‘Or dragons, perhaps.’

  The laird’s dry teasing did ease the tension between them. A slight smile played at her lips. ‘I have been known to hunt down my cat when she refuses to come in at night. Unfortunately, Belinda believes in staying out all night when she finds mice as her prey.’

  ‘Is she here now?’

  Regina shrugged, not knowing if he truly held an interest in her cat. ‘I imagine she is asleep on my father’s papers in the study.’ The thought of the large feline sprawled across the earl’s desk made her smile deepen.

  Now that she was smiling, the laird appeared more relaxed. ‘I thought we could have a word about our meddling fathers.’

  And with a single sentence, her mood shifted to wariness. If he had called their fathers meddling, then he was about to discuss their potential marriage. Regina wasn’t at all ready for this conversation. She couldn’t possibly consider a proposal. Not this soon. She hardly knew the man, despite her father’s wishes.

  Panic boiled inside her, and it took an effort not to blurt out no. Instead, she forced herself into a voice of calm. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You ken that our fathers wanted to arrange a match between us,’ Locharr said. ‘They were good friends, and it was my father’s dying wish that we be married.’

  She knew that, but she couldn’t imagine marrying anyone just now. Why should it matter what their fathers wanted? She was a grown woman, capable of deciding for herself whom she wished to marry.

  But your own father may be dying, her conscience warned. Would it not grant him peace if he knew you would be cared for?

  The earl alone knew the truth about what had happened that night. He wanted her to be protected, far away from London society. And he was willing to pay a high dowry to ensure that she was wedded to a man who could guard her from all harm.

  Lachlan MacKinloch certainly met those terms. The man was large enough to intimidate anyone who dared to threaten her. His very size dominated the room, but it also evoked all the terrible memories she had wanted to push away. Marriage to him might create a sanctuary—but it would also bring back the terror she had spent almost five years trying to forget.

  And for that reason, she wanted to refuse. She wasn’t ready to even consider being bound to a man. ‘No,’ she answered hastily. ‘I do not intend to marry.’

  Instead of arguing with her, the laird’s face turned thoughtful. He paused for a time, choosing his words carefully. ‘I ken that you have your life here and that you dinna wish to change it. But if you would consider a life in Scotland, I swear to you that I would make no demands upon you as a wife. We would live as friends, and you’d have your own room.’

  She stared at him, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Her own room? And...was he implying that he did not intend to touch her? He couldn’t be serious.

  ‘What about children? What if I don’t wish to—that is, what if—?’ She felt her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but he seemed to understand her meaning.

  ‘It could wait several years,’ he promised. ‘We are both young enough, and my first concern is to my clan. The winter was harsh, and they’ve no’ had verra much food. I need to provide for them.’

  In other words, he needed her dowry. And he was willing to consider a celibate marriage in return.

  For the first time, she studied him, wondering if this was even a possibility. Could she live with this man, far away in Scotland, where no one could threaten her with the scandal of the past?

  She decided to clarify the issue. ‘Are you saying that it would be a marriage where you would...allow me to be alone?’

  ‘No’ precisely,’ he answered. ‘You would live with me at Locharr and help me look after the people. I would expect you to be mistress of the household and take on those duties. But consummating our marriage could wait until later.’

  Well, that was clear enough. There was no question that this was the strangest marriage proposal she’d ever received. And yet...it was something to consider. If he was being serious and would not expect a true marriage, it might be a possibility. Still, it was entirely too soon to accept.

  ‘I will think about it.’ Then she added, ‘Would you care for more tea?’ The moment she spoke, she realised what a foolish question it was. His cup was still full, barely touched.

  Locharr shook his head. ‘In truth, I dinna care for tea. But I’ll have another sandwich.’

  She offered him the plate, and he took a sandwich with buttered bread and minced ham. Regina poured herself another cup of tea and took a biscuit from the tray. She nibbled at it, and admitted, ‘I must say, I was not expecting this conversation. At least, not so soon. And not from someone who used to play such terrible tricks on me.’

  ‘I was an angel,’ he teased. ‘I dinna ken what you are talking about.’

  From the mischief in his eyes, he knew exactly what she was talking about. ‘You tied my hair in knots. My maid spent most of the day trying to untangle it. You were a horrid boy.’ Whenever her family had visited the MacKinlochs, Lachlan had teased her mercilessly.

  Locharr only smiled and ate. But as they dined in silence, she saw his demeanour beginning to shift. Instead of being hopeful at her consideration of the proposal, his mood dimmed. He eyed her as if he wasn’t certain what to think of her as a bride. Certainly, he didn’t have the hopeful anticipation of a bridegroom. Instead, there was a sense of regret, though she couldn’t understand why. If he didn’t want to marry her, then there was no reason to ask. Likely he didn’t mean to be rude, but he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic.

  In the end, he said, ‘Thank you for the tea. I would be glad if you’d think about my offer of marriage.’

  He might as well have spoken about the weather again, for all his lack of eagerness. Out of habit, she rose from her chair, and he did the same. She held out her hand, and he squeezed it gently.

  ‘I will send word when I have made a decision,’ she said.

  He nodded and then departed from the room. After he’d gone, she sank into a chair, not knowing what to think. She ought to be grateful that Locharr had offered a celibate marriage. It was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? A life to live as she chose, with no man to threaten her.

  Her thoughts drifted to Dalton St George. In her mind, she compared the two men. Dalton would never have agreed to such a marriage. Although they were friends, even the slightest touch of his hand upon hers evoked the heat of anticipation. Among the ladies of the ton, he had a rather wild reputation—indeed like a rake. But with her, he had only ever been kind and gentle.

  And yet, was that not just as dangerous? With a man like Lord Camford, it would be more difficult to maintain a cool distance. He was one who might lure her into trusting him, slowly breaking down her boundaries.

  Unlike the laird, who wanted to maintain them. There was no question she ought to be delighted by this offer. And yet, she could only feel a numb emptiness.

  The door opened, and her mother entered with barely concealed excitement. ‘Well? What did he say? Did he ask you to marry him?’

  ‘He did,’ Regina admitted.

  Her mother’s smile lit up her face. ‘Oh, my darling, how wonderful! And you accepted his suit?’

  ‘I told him I would think about it.’

  Arabella’s smile faltered. ‘What is there to think about? Our families have been friends for years. And we b
oth know that this marriage is very important to Ned.’

  She studied her mother for a time and then voiced the question she had been wondering. ‘But why is it so important to him? I know they were friends, but I feel as if there’s something more. I don’t understand why Papa and you want me to marry Locharr so badly.’

  Her mother took a chair, and she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. Then she regarded Regina and admitted, ‘When he was alive, Locharr’s father loaned Ned money during a time of great need. He never asked for repayment, but instead, he wanted our families to be joined in marriage.’

  ‘So I am to be given as repayment,’ Regina said. It felt rather mercenary, as if her father had offered her up in sacrifice. ‘How much did he lend to Papa?’

  Arabella shook her head. ‘I never asked. But he will never allow you to marry anyone else, regardless of rank. Even when I suggested that the money could be repaid, he outright refused. It’s a matter of honour to him.’

  It might be honour, but to her, it felt like all choices had been taken from her. She didn’t want to marry any man at all.

  And yet, Locharr had offered the only sort of marriage she would consider. He appeared to have little interest in her as a woman, which gave her a sense of relief. No other man would agree to such an arrangement—so what choice did she have?

  ‘I don’t have to give him an answer right away,’ Regina insisted. ‘And I will think about it.’

  Her mother brightened and clasped her hands together in hope. ‘I am so glad.’

  But Regina couldn’t feel the same way at all.

  * * *

  Dalton stared at the handwritten note from Lady Regina. Only six words were written by her hand, but they struck a fist into his heart.

  I am sorry for your loss.

  Today marked the anniversary of his brother Brandon’s death. And she had remembered. Out of all his friends and acquaintances, she was the only person who had sent him a note of sympathy. Though it was a simple gesture, it meant a great deal to him. He had been close to his brother, and Brandon’s death had created an emptiness that could never be filled.

  A heaviness settled into his throat, for their entire household seemed shrouded in darkness. His father had secluded himself in his study, and Dalton knew he would not see him the rest of the day. It was early afternoon, and he needed a distraction.

  His gaze centred upon a stack of invitations, as he turned over the possibilities in his mind. He sorted through the cards, and when he saw the garden party hosted by Lady Anne’s mother, he hesitated. Regina would be there, for she was Anne’s best friend. The thought of seeing Regina was a welcome one, and it would give him the chance to thank her for the note.

  He hadn’t written a reply to his own invitation, but he didn’t suppose Lady Anne would mind if he arrived late to the party. He had to escape this prison of melancholy within this household, or he would drown in difficult memories.

  Dalton ordered a carriage and made a cursory attempt to seem presentable. He didn’t bother to change his attire, but instead waited impatiently for the vehicle to be brought out.

  On the way to Lady Anne’s residence, he thought about the blackmail note Regina had showed him, demanding three thousand pounds from her father. He had no answers yet, but he had paid a Bow Street Runner to learn more. Surely something would turn up within another day or two.

  * * *

  When he arrived at the Blyton residence, the guests were already out of doors. The flowers were blooming cheerfully, and several guests were indulging in a game of croquet. He greeted Lady Blyton and Lady Anne, making casual conversation while he discreetly searched for Regina.

  She wasn’t among the others, and it took some time before he eventually discovered her standing near a stone fountain. Her red hair was pulled back from her face, tucked beneath a green bonnet. Her gown was a matching shade of green apple, and the sight of her made him stop to appreciate her beauty. Her maid was nearby, but Regina was otherwise alone. When she saw him approaching, her face appeared troubled.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you here today, Lord Camford.’

  He drew closer and took her gloved hand, raising it to his lips. ‘It’s been a difficult morning,’ he admitted in all seriousness. ‘I appreciated your note. And then I found it impossible to stay at home. There were too many memories. My father refused to see anyone, and... I needed to get out.’

  He knew he ought to let go of her hand, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.

  ‘I’m glad you did,’ she answered. ‘No one should be alone on such an anniversary.’ There was warmth and sympathy in her voice, but she extricated her hand from his.

  ‘I wanted to see you,’ he said.

  ‘Because you learned something about the threat to my father?’ Instantly, she drew closer, bringing her voice to a whisper. ‘Who sent the note?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve made some enquiries, but I don’t know yet.’ Keeping his voice low, he said, ‘I will find your answers, I promise. But today, I just...wanted to see you.’

  He didn’t care that his words were trespassing into forbidden territory. Lachlan had been so withdrawn last night, and it didn’t bode well for the future. Dalton knew he had no right to even be here with Regina, not with the direction his thoughts had wandered. He imagined what it would be like to take Lachlan’s place.

  ‘Camford, don’t say that,’ she whispered. And yet, though her words were a warning, he was spellbound by her blue eyes and soft skin. He wanted to take her face between his hands and kiss her until she could no longer stand.

  You can’t, his conscience reminded him. She doesn’t want you in that way. She never has.

  And if he trespassed and claimed what he truly wanted from her, it would end their friendship. She was already hesitant, eyeing him with wariness.

  Regina flushed, but she didn’t turn away. The tension stretched between them, and he said nothing more. There was no sense in speaking of feelings when she didn’t feel the same way. Better to bury the thoughts and never say them.

  ‘Locharr asked me to marry him yesterday,’ she said at last.

  Her words stopped him cold, for he’d never imagined that Lachlan would ask so soon. It meant that his friend was resolved to go through with the union, setting aside the governess. He should have expected it, but it seemed far too early.

  ‘And did you give him an answer?’ The words came out more demanding than he’d intended, but it unnerved him to realise that he was losing her so soon.

  Regina dipped her hand into the stone fountain, cupping the cool water. ‘I told him I would think about it.’

  He breathed a little easier since she had not said yes. And yet, he recognised that he had no right to court this woman. She belonged to his best friend. What right did he have to interfere? None at all.

  Before he could say another word, Lady Anne appeared. ‘There you are. We are playing another game of croquet in teams. Both of you, stop being wallflowers and come join us.’

  Though he didn’t truly want to play, the idea of striking a ball with a mallet might relieve some of his tension.

  ‘Very well,’ Regina answered. ‘If I must.’

  ‘There are prizes for the winners,’ Anne added.

  Dalton regarded Regina and asked, ‘What do you think? Will you join me?’

  Her eyes held a warning, but she nodded. ‘I will.’

  * * *

  Regina was well aware of Lord Camford’s dark mood. His demeanour appeared restless, and when it was his turn to play, he struck the ball with too much force. It ricocheted off the metal wicket and rolled to the far end of the grass.

  It couldn’t be jealousy, could it? She hadn’t actually agreed to marry the laird, but even if she had, Camford had known of the long-standing promise between her father and Tavin MacKinloch.

  There wa
s no denying that the laird’s offer of marriage suited her. She would have the chance to leave London as his wife, live in a safe place, and their union would have no intimacy. The thought of the wedding night terrified her, but Lachlan had not even tried to kiss her hand. They had known one another for many years, and she was aware of his need for her dowry. It was an excellent offer, one she was strongly considering.

  But something made her pause. There had been a strong change in Lord Camford’s behaviour, ever since she’d told him of the proposal. Though it should not have come as a surprise, he seemed on edge. The air between them seemed charged, like lightning during a storm.

  Once, he turned to look at her, and his green eyes revealed an intensity that stole her thoughts. Though he had never spoken of anything between them, she sensed that he had considered it. Her skin warmed, tightening at the unexpected vision of his mouth upon hers.

  She sensed that a kiss from Lord Camford would be demanding and heated. The blood seemed to rush to her face as she wondered how she would respond. It was forbidden to even imagine it. She turned to meet his gaze and saw the hard line to his jaw and the bold stare in his eyes.

  But it was her own response that frightened her. For it felt like a sudden awakening.

  He had been her friend, a calm presence beside her who had made her feel safe. Never had she considered what it would be like to be courted by him. His wicked teasing had been a deterrent—or was that really true? She was starting to wonder.

  He excused himself to walk across the lawn towards his wayward croquet ball. His long strides revealed his unspoken annoyance, and she suspected it had nothing to do with the game. He took careful aim, and she watched as he struck the ball back on to the course. As he returned to her side, she tried not to be too blatant in her observation of him. But the truth was, she couldn’t quite help herself. She was aware of the way he moved, the purposeful strides when he followed the path of his ball.