Kennedy felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. What tiny bit of love that had remained after his father tore him from his mother’s deathbed and sent him to university a year ahead of schedule, he’d killed when he’d married Jacqueline. Kennedy barely remembered the days when he’d worshiped his father. Yet those feelings cut like a knife.
“Of course, your father assumes you will choose from the pool of ladies with whom you are acquainted.”
Kennedy realized Stirling was speaking. “What? Oh, yes, I must marry a woman of breeding. He was very clear on that point.”
“This lady will fulfill that qualification. She is, in fact, Viscountess Kinsely, heir to the title. Her father died with no male heir.”
“A second title in the bargain,” Kennedy murmured. “You are correct, that would please my father.”
“It would please him even more if he thought the idea was his,” Stirling said.
Kennedy frowned. “What do you mean?
“I mean, if your father decided who you should marry…” His words trailed off and he shrugged.
In truth, Kennedy was surprised his father hadn’t chosen his bride. “How will my father come to this conclusion?” he asked.
Stirling grinned. “Leave that to me.”
“I can take no chances,” Kennedy said.
“Of course not.” Stirling rose. “I would guess that you’ll hear from your father by tomorrow.”
Kennedy stood. “How do you plan on making him think this was his idea?”
Stirling shrugged. “Very simple, really. All that must happen is for him to learn of the lady’s existence. He will be unable to refrain from interfering.”
* * *
The carriage slowed, and Anne caught sight of a massive stone mansion through the window. She had to be dreaming. The last two nights she’d lain awake searching for a plan that would save her home and her family. Nothing short of ten thousand pounds would ensure they had a chance at survival. Two hours ago, she’d received a note. A summons, really. The Earl of Buchanan requested—commanded—her appearance at his home at three for the purpose of… Despite the presence of the maid sitting across from her, Anne couldn’t help pulling the note from her reticule and reading it for the hundredth time. …arrange a betrothal between you and my son, Viscount Buchanan.
A hundred questions swirled inside her head. Why couldn’t his son find a wife? Why did the Earl want to marry her to his son? How had the Earl heard of her? She was the daughter of an impoverished viscount who didn’t move in Society. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had visited Edinburgh. Had the Earl not heard the terrible rumors about her? Maybe he had, but his son couldn’t get anyone better than an unfaithful woman. Her head felt near to bursting with questions.
The coach tipped slightly and in the next instance, the door opened. Anne extended her hand and allowed the footman to help her to the ground, then he helped her companion. Lady Peddington had insisted the maid accompany her. In truth, Anne was glad for her presence, even if her companion couldn’t offer any advice.
The footman closed the coach door and Anne nodded her thanks, then walked with the maid up the walkway to the door. She knocked. A moment later, the door opened and a footman led them to a large parlor where they settled on a divan. Anne’s heart began to pound and her hands sweated inside her gloves. She had not the slightest idea what to expect. How she wished Lady Peddington had come with her, but other duties prohibited her from accompanying Anne.
The door opened and a short, thin man entered. Anne rose and Molly followed her example.
“I am Mr. Spector, my lady.” He bowed. “His lordship’s solicitor.”
Anne looked past him at the open door.
“His lordship will not be here,” he said. “He is very ill. I represent his interests.”
Anne nodded. “Oh, forgive me. This is Molly, my companion,” she said.
Mr. Spector bowed again, and said, “Please, be seated.”
They resumed their seats on the divan and Mr. Spector took the chair to Anne’s left.
“As I said, his lordship is ill. He wishes his son to marry post haste.” The man gave what, Anne assumed, was meant to be a comforting smile, but it looked more pained than comforting. “He is willing to offer you a generous settlement.”
Anne’s heart pounded. She had known this topic would arise, but had assumed that by the time it did, she would be on intimate enough terms with her prospective husband for him to understand that her title would be her dowry. But a man in line for an earldom had no need of a title as viscount.
“Sir, perhaps his lordship is unaware that I have no dowry to offer, other than the title that will pass to my future husband.”
Again, the man offered a smile, this one almost a grimace. “Indeed, my lady, the earl is well aware you have no dowry. He is pleased that his son will carry your title. If you will take a moment and review the contract.” He pulled a document from an inside jacket pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to her.
Anne angled her head in thanks, and began reading. When she’d finished, she was more than certain she was dreaming. The earl would settle five thousand pounds on her on the day they married—which would be two days hence—and another ten thousand pounds the day she bore his son an heir. On top of that, she would receive a thousand pounds a year to do with as she pleased. The five thousand pounds was enough to get them through the first harvest season.
Her thoughts threatened to churn into chaos, but she forced order and concentrated on one thing: the money. There was no guarantee she would bear a son the first year. A thousand pounds a year wouldn’t support the estate, but another fifteen hundred would get them by. As the wife of a wealthy viscount who was heir to an earldom, there had to be a way for her to get more money. But how? Never mind. She would figure that out along the way. She couldn’t possibly get a better offer than this one.
She looked at Mr. Spector. “I own property north of Perth as well as in the Highlands. That property will remain in my possession.”
“I believe that will be acceptable, my lady. So long as the property falls to your son at your death.”
She nodded. “My mother and sister live at Dover Hall. They will remain there as long as they wish.”
He nodded. “You will reside here in Edinburgh until you bear an heir. After that, you may retire to the country, if you wish. Of course, your son will remain here in Edinburgh.”
A chill swept through her. Leave her son? She hadn’t considered that. But then, she hadn’t considered children beyond the knowledge that children were an obvious result of marriage.
“Are you saying, I will be banished to the country while my children remain here in Edinburgh?”
“Nae, my lady. I am saying that you would not be allowed to leave your husband and take them to the country.”
“Not even for a visit?”
“Of course, you and your husband may decide to visit anywhere you like. But the children will be raised here in Edinburgh.”
Her heart sank. She hadn’t given a thought to where her children might be raised, but upon reflection, she couldn’t imagine them being raised anywhere but at Dover Hall. This was far more complicated than she’d considered. But then, like now, she had considered only the money. What a fool she’d been to think she could simply marry a man and live life as she chose. She had to marry, of that there was no question. But her life would no longer be her own. She could visit Dover Hall and Marr Castle, but even that was dependent upon her husband’s goodwill.
What choice had she? At best, she her sister and their mother would last one more year before the creditors swooped down upon them. If that happened, none of them would have a home.
Chapter Three
Anne half wished she’d insisted upon meeting her future husband at the church rather than agree to wait at Lady Peddington’s for his carriage. Whether he picked up her and her family from Lady Peddington’s and rode with them to the church, or met them at the
church, there was no turning back.
Her sister fidgeted beside her on the couch in the parlor, and her mother sat in the chair to their right, gripping a handkerchief, as they awaited the viscount’s carriage.
“You look so terribly pale,” Anne’s sister said.
Anne gave Louisa a smile. “Nerves, nothing more. Once the ceremony is over and we’re all settled into our new life, things will be just fine.”
“I know it makes no difference, but I still want to say once more that I wish you hadn’t done this,” Louisa said. “We would have found another way. That nice Mr. Allen has been courting Mama. A marriage proposal is sure to come any day.”
“Mr. Allen is a nice man,” their mother said, “but he has no money to speak of.”
“Between us three and him, we could have found a way,” Louisa insisted.
Anne smiled. The determination and hope of youth. Only a year ago, she had been full of that same optimism.
“I’ve made a good match,” Anne said. “He’s the heir to an earldom—a very wealthy earldom. We need never again worry about money.”
“Only if he gives ye enough money to help us keep Dover Hall running,” Louisa said. “Not to mention, Castle Dòmnallach.”
“Two years from now, the estates will be self-sufficient,” Anne said. She would see to that. “You and Mama need never worry about having a home. You will have time to make a good match, Louisa, and Mama can marry whomever she likes, whether or not he has the skills necessary to run the estates. We shall stay in control of our property.”
“Dover Hall will go to your son,” Louisa said.
“Only upon my death,” Anne said. But Castle Dòmnallach will remain yours.”
At the thump of boot falls in the corridor, Anne snapped her attention toward the parlor door. Her heart began to pound.
Steady, she told herself. Mama and Louisa are here. You do not want them to see you frightened.
The boot falls came closer. Her mother’s and sister’s attentions were also fixed on the open door. Closer. He would be here any second.
Anne tore her gaze from the doorway, reached for Louisa’s hand and squeezed gently. Louisa’s head snapped in her direction.
“Remember,” Anne whispered, “this man will be your new brother. We must not make him uncomfortable.”
Louisa nodded, but worry furrowed her brow. From the corner of her eye, Anne glimpsed movement in the doorway.
“Viscount Buchanan is here to see you, my lady,” the butler announced.
Louisa’s eyes widened. Their mother started to rise. Anne, still holding her sister’s hand, pushed to her feet, pulling her sister up with her, and faced her future husband.
The butler stepped aside and Anne stared. In all her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have guessed that the man she was betrothed to was— “You,” she whispered.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered.
Their mother dropped into a courtesy. Louisa curtsied, pulling Anne down into a curtsy with her.
Anne straightened and extended her hand toward him. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, my Lord.”
Something flickered in his eyes. She realized she’d miscalculated, but didn’t know how. He approached, grasped her hand with long fingers, and brushed his lips against her knuckles.
“I cannot tell ye how pleased I am to meet you, my lady.”
He still gripped her hand. She tugged harder than she should’ve had to in order to free herself. She turned slightly. “May I present my sister, Lady Louisa, and my mother, the dowager viscountess.”
The viscount bowed over both their hands, then said, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“It was very kind of you to fetch us yourself, my lord,” her mother said.
He gave her a polite smile. “It is my pleasure, and, please, ma’am, call me Kennedy.”
Her mother angled her head in acquiescence and started to reply, when Dorothy and Fiona entered the room. They stopped short as if in surprise, and Dorothy’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh my,” Dorothy exclaimed. “We didn’t realize this room was in use. Forgive the intrusion.”
They realized it quite well, Anne wagered. The girls were not typically in this part of the house at this time of day. But all the better.
Anne smiled. “It’s no intrusion, Dorothy. Ladies, may I introduce Viscount Buchanan. My lord, this is Miss Williams and Miss Evans.”
The girls curtsied and the viscount gave a slight bow.
“How wonderful to finally meet you, my lord,” Linda said. “We didn’t have the chance to meet you when you attended Lady Peddington’s ball last week.”
Anne stiffened. The little vipers thought they would expose her to her mother.
“Which ball would that be again?” the viscount said.
“Lady Peddington’s ball, last Saturday evening,” Dorothy said.
The viscount frowned as if in thought. “Ah, yes, I believe I did drop by, but arrived later than intended, during Lady Peddington’s Midnight Ball.”
Anne stared. Was he giving them a set down for trying to embarrass her?
The girl’s faces turned ashen.
“Sir, you must be mistaken,” Linda quickly said. “We did not attend the Midnight Ball.”
His frown deepened. “Then perhaps it wasn’t me you saw.” He faced Anne and her family. “Forgive me, but we should leave if we are to reach the church on time.” His gaze shifted to Anne. “Have you any trunks, my lady?”
“Nothing to take with us to the church, sir,” she replied.
“And you are dressed for the ceremony?”
Her cheeks warmed. “Aye, sir. The lace is the finest in all of Scotland and the pink satin,” she smiled, “pink is a favorite of mine.”
“It is a stunning color on you,” he said. “Shall we go?”
They nodded and he stood aside as they walked past Dorothy and Linda and proceeded him out of the room. He caught up to Anne and her heart thundered with the fear that he would mention their meeting at Lady Peddington’s. He didn’t, however, and he helped them into the carriage, and they started forward with a creak of the carriage wheels. Anne was all too aware of the heat from his body. He remained a perfect gentleman, but made no effort to sit far away from her on their side of the carriage. Was he was taunting her? Was he one of those men who needed a woman to stay close at his side?
“Do you live in Edinburgh?”
Anne started at the sound of Louisa’s voice. To her surprise, the viscount smiled gently at Louisa. “A great deal of the time, aye. We have a castle in Inverness, which I used to visit every year.”
“Not anymore?” she asked.
“Not as much as I’d like,” he said. “Perhaps you will like to visit.”
Louisa smiled. “Indeed, sir, I would.”
He looked at Anne and her face heated. “Do you like Inverness, my lady?”
“I have never been.”
“It’s quite beautiful.”
Had that been a wistful note in his voice?
“You and your family are welcome to spend as much time there as you like.”
Anne’s stomach knotted. Was he going to send them away? Mr. Spector said otherwise, but…
They reached the church and entered the foyer. Anne glimpsed only four people sitting in the pews before a young woman ushered her mother and sister into the chapel, leaving Anne alone in the foyer with the viscount.
“Very clever,” he said in a low voice once they were out of earshot.
He didn’t have to explain, she knew exactly what he meant. “I had no idea you were the man I met at Lady Peddington’s ball,” she said.
He gave a mirthless laugh. “The coincidence is too much of a, well, coincidence. I do no’ believe you.”
She let out a frustrated breath. “How could I possibly have arranged this? Your father contacted me. I never met him.”
Doubt flickered in his eyes. “Do you know Sir Stirling James?” he demanded.
Sh
e frowned. “Who?”
“Never mind,” he said. “I supposed it doesn’t matter.”
His tone said it did matter. The murmur of voices echoed back to them from the chapel. “When I saw you at the ball, you did not appear to be a man desperate to marry,” she said.
“How does a man act who is desperate to marry?” he asked. “Any desire to marry had little to do with me being at that ball.”
She snorted again. “That, I believe.”
He gave her a critical look. “Your actions were not those of a woman interested in marriage.”
“You’re basing that on vicious gossip.”
“Hardly. I am basing that on the fact that you negotiated with me for a night in your bed.”
She lifted her brows. “I thought it was a night in your bed.”
His mouth twitched in what she realized was amusement, but the mood vanished almost as quickly as it came. “Let me be very clear on one important point. You will take no lovers until I have an heir and a spare.”
Fury whipped through her. “I assume the same rule does not apply to you?”
A cool smile spread across his face. “A man’s by blows will never be mistaken for his heirs.”
“Then the vows we are about to take mean nothing to you.”
“On the contrary, they mean a great deal to me. You and our children will have my protection and my support.”
“But not your loyalty,” she retorted.
“Make no mistake, my lady, real loyalty takes place outside the bedroom.”
* * *
The priest entered the foyer, and Kennedy turned to face him.
“If you are ready, my lord, my lady,” he said.
Kennedy nodded and the priest returned to the chapel.
Kennedy looked at his wife-to-be. “Shall we? He winged his arm toward her.
She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, then he led her into the sanctuary and up to the altar. Only half a dozen people sat in the pews, including Anne’s sister and mother. His father’s solicitor sat beside Jacqueline in the left front pew. Kennedy wouldn’t be surprised to find her outside their bed chambers with her ear pressed against the door, so that she could confirm the consummation of the marriage. One other man sat in the third pew. Sir Stirling James. Stirling gave him an almost imperceptible nod as they passed. After the ceremony, Kennedy would speak with him. He wanted to know how Stirling knew of Anne—and got word to his father about her existence.
Scandalous Lords and Courtship Page 3