by Tarah Scott
“That is most kind,” Mr. Forbes said.
From the corner of her eye, Mia looked past Cook, who was cutting carrots at the table in the middle of the room, and she watched Aunt Leana carefully finger the tanned flesh around his wound.
“The cut isn’t deep, but it is about four inches long.” She frowned. “How in the world did you manage to hurt yourself?”
“As I said earlier, it was Lucy’s fault,” Mia quickly answered.
Mr. Forbes looked at her, brow arched, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
“How is the water coming, Mia?” Aunt Leana asked.
Steam rose off the water. “It’s nearly ready.”
“Put a couple of the smaller cloths in the water before it gets too hot, then ring them out and bring them to me,” her aunt instructed.
Mia grabbed a wooden spoon from the table, pulled a platter from the shelf, then dropped in two cloths and swirled them around. She removed the pot from the heat, then spooned the cloths from the water onto the plate. Gingerly, she tested the heat, found it bearable, then wrung out the water and delivered the clothes to her aunt.
Seeing Mr. Forbes’ bare chest up close—close enough to touch—made her oddly lightheaded. Aunt Leana extended a hand and Mia realized she wanted the cloths. Mia held out both hands, a cloth in each hand. Leana took the cloth from her right hand and began cleaning the wound. Mr. Forbes winced.
“Bring some of that hot water in a bowl, Mia,” her aunt said, as the maid that Cook had sent to fetch a clean shirt entered the room.
Mia complied and watched as Aunt Leana gently cleaned the wound.
“Do you plan to farm the land at Barkely Hall?” Aunt Leana asked, surprising Mia. Aunt Leana cared nothing for business of any kind.
“I do, indeed, ma’am,” he replied. “I will raise cattle, as well.”
“How nice,” Aunt Leana said, but something in her voice caught Mia’s attention.
After she finished cleaning the wound, Mr. Forbes said, “There will be no need for a bandage. I can have the wound further attended to at Barkely Hall.”
“I have no wish for you to ruin a perfectly good shirt,” Aunt Leana said. “It will take only a moment to secure a bandage.”
She had Mia stand to his left and they handed the bandage off to each other as they wound it around him. Mr. Forbes looked up at Mia. She tried to ignore him, but his stare, so close to her face, unnerved her. She took a step behind him as she handed the bandage to Aunt Leana but, when her aunt extended the end of the bandage to her, Mia was forced to lean so close to his arm that her breast brushed his shoulder. Her face heated and she quickly wrapped the bandage around his back, then handed the end to Aunt Leana, and gave thanks that was the last of the cloth.
Mia hurried back to the stove, poured out the last of the water and replaced the pot while Mr. Forbes donned the fresh shirt. The driver John entered, and she released a breath of relief when Mr. Forbes stood and began buttoning his shirt. Mia glimpsed his mud-covered breeches and couldn’t help a laugh. He paused on the fifth button and she realized he was looking at her. Mia lifted her gaze to his face.
His expression remained neutral as he said, “What is so amusing?”
All eyes turned upon her. She shook her head, afraid if she spoke, she would burst out laughing.
He glanced down at his breeches, then returned his attention to her and lifted a brow. “Do I have Lucy to thank for the muddy breeches, as well?”
The need to laugh evaporated. “As Aunt Leana said, she is a menace. Send them back with John and we will clean them for you.”
He resumed buttoning his shirt. “That will not be necessary.” He faced her aunt. “Many thanks for your hospitality, but I believe it is time I take my leave.”
“Of course,” she replied. “John will take you home.”
Mr. Forbes bowed slightly, said, “Ladies,” then left.
When his bootfalls receded, Aunt Leana whirled to face her and said, “Our troubles are over.”
Mia paused while removing the bowl of bloody water and stained cloths from the table. “What are you talking about?”
Her aunt opened her mouth to reply, then glanced at the servants. “Come with me.” She took the bowl and rags from Mia, set them on the table, then grasped her hand and pulled her from the room.
“Aunt Leana, what in the world is going on?”
She didn’t answer, only pulled Mia upstairs to their private parlor.
When they entered, Angeline looked up from her sewing. She frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“I have no idea,” Mia said.
Aunt Leana closed the door, then whirled to face them. “Mr. Forbes is the answer to our problem.”
“Who is Mr. Forbes?” Angeline asked.
“The new owner of Barkely Hall.”
“Someone finally bought the estate?” Angeline said. “It will be nice to have a close neighbor again.”
“What is nice is that an eligible gentleman has moved in next door,” Aunt Leana said.
“I can’t see how him being an eligible gentleman matters,” Angeline said.
“But it does,” their aunt said. “He will need a wife to run Barkely Hall. In fact, there is no doubt he is looking for a wife.”
“Perhaps he simply likes country life,” Angeline said.
“Pish.” Their aunt waved a hand dismissively. “No young gentleman of means prefers the country to gay city life.”
Mia began to comprehend her aunt’s line of thinking. “It does make sense,” she said. “A wealthy bachelor does not move into the country for his health—well, some gentleman might, but not Mr. Forbes.”
“Why not Mr. Forbes?” Angeline asked.
“Because he is—” Her cheeks flushed warm at the memory of his muscled chest. “He is, well, healthy.”
Angeline gave her an odd look that made Mia’s cheeks warm even more.
“Exactly,” Aunt Leana said. “He will need a wife.”
“What if he doesn’t know he needs a wife?” Angeline asked. “Gentlemen do tend to think they can get by without a woman’s help.”
“Never mind that,” Mia said. “Once he sees you, he will be smitten. Imagine; as mistress of Barkely Hall, you will live five minutes from home.”
“I thought you and Aunt Leana planned to sell Kaerndal Castle once I marry.”
Mia ignored the amusement in her sister’s voice. “If you married a man as wealthy as Mr. Forbes must be, then perhaps we may not need to sell Kaerndal Castle.”
“Not Angeline,” Leana said.
Mia looked at her. “What?”
“You, Mia.”
“Me? Me what?”
“You are the perfect wife for Mr. Forbes.”
Mia’s mouth fell open.
Angeline laughed. “What a wonderful idea.”
Mia looked from Angeline to her aunt. “But that’s ridiculous. We agreed, Angeline must marry as soon as possible.”
“We agreed because we do not want to see her chances for a good match ruined because of your father’s actions,” Aunt Leana said. “But a rich brother-in-law would ensure Angeline’s acceptance no matter her father’s crimes.”
“But-but—” Mia shook her head. “I don’t understand. Angeline is far more beautiful. Mr. Forbes will find her much harder to resist than me.”
What a shame it wasn’t her he happened upon in the woods, she thought.
Though, the last thing they needed was for George to find Angeline alone in the woods. He would be sure to elope with her. He wasn’t supposed to have returned to Inverness for another two months. Clearly, Angeline had written him of their father’s imprisonment and he had hurried home from wherever his ship had docked to beg her to marry him post haste. The young fool had mistakenly thought he could enlist Mia’s aid in convincing Aunt Leana to give her blessing on their marriage.
“I know exactly what to do,” Mia said. “We will plan for Angeline’s carriage to break down on the road just as Mr. Forbe
s is passing by. He will rescue her just as he did me, only he will fall madly in love with her.” Which he hadn’t with her, not one wit.
“Break down?” Angeline echoed. “Mia, that is positively diabolical. But I must point out it is a silly idea.” Mia opened her mouth to say the idea wasn’t silly at all, when Angeline added, “How did he save you?”
Mia recalled his intervention with George, but said, “I took a tumble down the hill. He, er, intercepted my fall.”
Angeline’s brows shot up. “Does that mean he caught you? I wish I had seen that. Is he handsome? I wager he is.”
“I-- That is of no consequence,” Mia said. “He is a perfectly polite gentleman—is he not, Aunt Leana?” But she didn’t wait for an answer. “And he is wealthy enough to have purchased Barkely Hall. He will make a very good husband.”
A knock came to the door and the maid, Sally, entered and curtsied. “A message arrived for you, my lady.” She hurried to their aunt and gave her a sealed envelope, then left.
Mia glimpsed the blue wax and recognized Sir Stirling’s seal in the instant before Leana slipped a finger between the lip and envelope and broke the seal.
She withdrew a note and her eyes scanned the paper. Her face lit. “Sir Stirling is hosting the promised house party this weekend and has invited us.” She looked up at them. “This is the perfect opportunity to make a connection with Mr. Forbes.”
“Indeed,” Mia said. “That is the perfect excuse for Angeline to be in the carriage when it goes into the ditch as Mr. Forbes passes.”
“Don’t be silly, Mia. Repair of the carriage would cost a fortune.” Excitement gleamed in Aunt Leana’s eyes. “Mr. Forbes will be attending the party.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Mia asked.
“Sir Stirling would never invite us to the house party and not invite our new neighbor, the gentleman to whom he facilitated the sale of Barkely Hall.”
She had a point. “There will be a multitude of ways to show Angeline off to her best advantage at a house party.” Mia stood. “We have much planning to do. We must inspect Angeline’s best dress and—”
“Sometimes you can be so dense, Mia,” their aunt cut in. “As I said earlier, it isn’t Angeline who should marry Mr. Forbes. It is you.”
Chapter Four
Magnus thanked John for the ride, then entered Barkely Hall’s front door. All he wanted was a hot bath and a brandy. Perhaps a brandy during the hot bath. Then another after the bath.
“Neill,” he called as he veered toward the staircase to the right.
“Here, sir.”
Magnus paused, his foot on the first stair, and looked over his shoulder at his valet. “You always seem to be in the right place at the right time, Neill. A bath, right away, please.”
The valet gave no indication of surprise at Magnus’s appearance and said, “Very good, sir. First, however, you have a visitor.”
Magnus turned to face him. Who could possibly be visiting? Stirling, of course. “The parlor, Neill?” He started down the hallway.
“Yes, sir. Mr. Young has been waiting for forty-five minutes.”
Magnus froze. Young? He looked at his valet. “Who is in my parlor, Neill?”
“Mr. Gordon Young, sir,” Neill said with a straight face.
Magnus narrowed his eyes. “You are aware, Neill, that I do no’ like the man.”
“Indeed, sir, but he refused to leave.”
Magnus eyed him. “I have never known you to be squeamish about shutting the door in someone’s face.”
“Aye, sir. Unfortunately, it wasn’t I who opened the door, but Mrs. Rose. Once she had seated Mr. Young, I saw no way to force him to leave, as we haven’t yet hired anyone large enough to be able to toss him out the door.”
“That will be my first order of business tomorrow,” he growled. “Stay close, Neill. If he becomes difficult, I will throw him out myself.”
“Of course, sir.”
Magnus strode down the hall with Neill following. They reached the parlor and Magnus continued inside while Neill waited in the hallway. Gordon stood at the window overlooking the lawn that stretched toward the east grazing land.
“You have outdone yourself here, Magnus.”
“What do you want?” Magnus demanded, although he wanted to ask, How did you find me in less than a day?
“Is that any way to talk to your business partner and friend?” Gordon turned. “Good God, man, what have you done to yourself? Have you been wallowing in mud?”
“State your business, Young. I am a busy man.”
“So I see.”
Magnus crossed to the tray where sat a decanter of sherry and glasses. He filled one for himself, then faced Gordon.
“You might offer me a sherry,” Gordon said.
“No need. You will not be staying. What do you want?”
“I’m fortunate to have found you. What the devil are you doing here in the country?”
Magnus sipped his sherry and waited.
“I have news about Blane you need to hear.”
Magnus snorted. “There is nothing about my uncle that I need to hear.”
“You will think differently if he decides to pay you a visit.”
“I will be even less hospitable to him than I am to you.”
“Bluster all you want, you cannot shoot your mother’s brother.”
Magnus snorted. “I can and will, if he comes anywhere near me—which I doubt he will. He no more wishes to see me than I do him.”
Gordon regarded him. “Do you really plan on taking this grudge to the grave?”
“And beyond, if I can.”
“You have no reason to complain. The money you made from The Honeydrop is probably what enabled you to purchase this estate.”
He wasn’t about to let the man drag him into that old argument. “I have been patient, Young. What do you want?”
“Your uncle has purchased another hell.”
Magnus tensed. “That has nothing to do with me.”
“You didn’t think The Honeydrop had anything to do with you, either.”
“No money lender in Edinburgh will give him so much as a shilling. I made sure of it,” Magnus said.
Gordon lifted a brow. “What about Inverness?”
* * *
Mia stared at her aunt and could only manage, “Me?”
“Why not?” Angeline said. “Any gentleman would be fortunate to have you as a wife.”
Aunt Leana rose and hurried to the small desk near the window. She lifted paper from a drawer, then removed the cap from the ink and dipped the quill. Mia crossed to her aunt. In her note, she thanked Sir Stirling for the invitation and said the four of them, Joshua was invited, as well, would attend the party. She set the quill down, then blew on the paper.
“What in the world has possessed you?” Mia demanded. “We agreed, Angeline must find a husband before news of Father’s incarceration becomes known. Surely, you must agree that the chances are greater that Angeline can find a suitable husband. We are concerned for her welfare, if you recall.”
“Angeline finding a suitable husband does not mean you cannot marry, as well.”
“No one wants to marry me,” Mia said.
Leana folded the paper. “A wealthy gentleman who clearly finds you attractive has moved in next door. That is a start.”
“Finds me attractive? Why that is-is ridiculous,” Mia sputtered.
“He finds Mia attractive?” Angeline said. “Oh my, that is interesting.”
“But he does not find me attractive,” Mia blurted.
“He doesn’t?” Angeline looked at Aunt Leana. “But you said he does, Aunt.”
“You know Mia, she is forever thinking gentlemen don’t find her attractive. I saw the way he looked at her—and lest we forget, he swept her into his arms and insisted upon carrying her into the house.”
“That only makes him a gentleman, not a prospective husband,” Mia insisted.
“He went well abo
ve a gentleman’s duty.” Aunt Leana turned her attention to Angeline and said in a confidential tone, as if Mia couldn’t hear, “He was very masterful. I half expected him to kiss her on the parlor divan.”
Mia flushed. “Aunt Leana.”
Another knock came to the door and the butler, Mr. Anders, entered. “A letter has arrived for you, my lady.” He crossed to Leana, gave her the letter, then bowed and left.
Mia caught sight of the return address: Mr. Barton, Esquire. Fear tightened her insides. It was the third letter from him in as many weeks. He was growing more insistent on payment. Mia didn’t like the man, but her father had insisted he was the finest lawyer in Inverness.
When Aunt Leana set the envelope on the desk without opening it, Mia exchanged a look of concern with Angeline. Their aunt was quite skilled at ignoring things she didn’t want to face.
“Now then, Mia, this is the perfect opportunity for you to marry a gentleman who will care for you,” Aunt Leana said.
Mia blinked. “Take care of me? I don’t need taken care of.”
“Your father would want this.”
“Would he indeed? He should have thought of that before he stole the duchess’s jewels.”
“He swears he is innocent,” Angeline said.
“I feel certain Father has never been innocent,” Mia said.
“Are you so very angry with him that you would think him guilty of a crime that isn’t in his nature?” Angeline asked.
“People do things all the time that aren’t in their nature. He knew full well we would struggle without him, yet he stole a necklace.”
“It is the legal fees that have done us in,” Angeline said in a gentle voice.
Mia sighed. “This is the very reason we want to see you well married, Angeline. You deserve more than spinsterhood, living in a cottage with Aunt Leana and I.”
“You deserve more than to end up living in a cottage with me,” Aunt Leana told Mia.
“But we agreed,” Mia said.
“We did,” their aunt agreed. “But a person of sense seizes opportunity. Now, you are an innocent. But that will have to change.”
Mia blinked. “I-I beg your pardon?”
“No, I don’t mean that,” she replied. “Just that you will have to entice him into, well, into seducing you.”