A Lady by Chance (The Marriage Maker Book 3)

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A Lady by Chance (The Marriage Maker Book 3) Page 4

by Tarah Scott


  Chastity nodded. “I am glad for you, kitten. Now return to him. You two will soon leave to begin your new life.”

  “It is your turn to be happy,” Jessica said.

  Chastity shook her head. “Remember something, Jessica. You told Lucy and Olivia not to impose upon you their desires. I ask the same of you.”

  “But they were right. I am as blissfully happy as they are.”

  “I pray that remains the case.”

  Jessica released her hands. “What are you saying? Do you think Patrick isn’t a good man?”

  “Nae, I am not saying that at all. I am saying, we do not know him.”

  Jessica stiffened. “I can see he’s a good man.”

  Chastity gave her a gentle smile. “Aye, he does seem to be a true gentleman.”

  “I am glad he is the man Sir Stirling chose for me. I would have been miserable with anyone else.”

  “I only want the best for you. For all three of you.” Chastity swiped at her cheek. “You are more than my sisters. You are—”

  “We are like your own children, aren’t we?” Jessica spoke past the rising lump in her throat. “Papa was right. You have done enough for us. You know how much we love you.”

  Chastity nodded. “Of course.”

  “Then you will understand that we want the best for you, too. We want you to be happier than all three of us combined.”

  “You are sweet, kitten.”

  Jessica shook her head. “No, that is you. I am the wild one, remember?”

  “Your new husband doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Do you think so?” Her heart pounded. “He is exciting, isn’t he?”

  “He is a man, no more or less. Do not let him turn your head so much that you forget how special you are.”

  “I will not.” Jessica smiled. “But only if you promise that you will not forget how wonderful you are.”

  “I am a spinster and more a mother hen than a fresh young miss like you.”

  Jessica threw her arms about Chastity “You are the dearest sister in all of Scotland. No, in all the world. Now you will be the bride of the Marriage Maker. And he will show you how special you are.” Jessica drew back. “Even I’m not such a green girl as to have missed how he looks at you. He is mad about you.”

  Surprise flickered across Chastity’s face. “What? Getting married has clouded your judgment. He wants a title on which to hang his name, nothing more.”

  “Hah!” Jessica stepped back. “Sir Stirling cannot wait to make you his wife.”

  Jessica gave her sister no chance to reply, but spun and headed back to the dining room. She suddenly had a ferocious appetite.

  Chapter Five

  Two hours later, the rented coach slowed on the muddy road along the River Ness as it neared the heart of the congested town. They passed through the busiest area, the driver carefully skirting street vendors and the crowds milling in and out of shops, inns, and taverns before Jessica finally caught sight of a wrought iron gate up ahead. The carriage bounced through a big rut, then made a sudden turn. Jessica slid against Patrick’s side. He yanked her close.

  “What are you doing?” She pushed from him as the carriage rocked.

  “I didn’t want you to fall.”

  She scowled. “The carriage only hit a bump.”

  He bit back a laugh. “Forgive my impertinence.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh dear, a wife is supposed to let her husband take care of her, isn’t she?”

  “Occasionally,” he said.

  “I will not complain the next time you try to save me from something silly.”

  “What if I try to save you from something serious?”

  Her brow furrowed prettily as she considered. “I don’t know. That’s never happened.”

  “What about when you fell from the tree?”

  Her expression brightened. “That was rather serious, wasn’t it?”

  “Perhaps just a little,” he said.

  “You may always catch me when I fall from trees.”

  He thought at first she was speaking as the child who had climbed a tree to save a kitten, then he glimpsed a hint of mischief in her eyes. The minx was young, but she wasn’t without womanly wiles. What sort of woman/child had he married?

  “I shall endeavor to save you every time you fall from a tree,” he said. “Of course, that means you must tell me when you plan to climb trees.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That is just a way for you to always know what I am doing.”

  The lass had a keen mind, but he would never have to worry about what she was thinking. She hadn’t yet learned not to speak plainly. He prayed that would never end.

  “I didn’t say I would stop you from climbing the tree,” he said.

  Jessica laughed. “You’re right. Thank you.” Her expression sobered. “Sir Stirling said you are a navy man, but that you will not return to the navy. Why?”

  Patrick was struck with the thought that she feared he would leave, despite what Stirling had said. An unexpected mental picture flashed of her in his arms while they watched snow fall and melt against the glass of his bedchamber window. Such a fate was far more desirable than long, wet nights on a ship.

  “I was wounded three years ago, my leg. I am of little use to them now,” he said.

  She gave him a deprecating look. “Rubbish. You have a sharp mind and intellect is always in demand.”

  Patrick blinked. “That’s very insightful.”

  “It is common sense.”

  Aye, nights with this woman was by far a better fate than anything he could have imagined.

  Her gaze shifted to his left then his right leg. “I did notice a slight limp when you were in the woods.”

  Despite knowing her remark was innocent, his male pride pricked and he gave a stiff nod. “It is hard to miss, my lady.”

  Her gaze yanked up to his face and he was surprised by the moisture that immediately glistened in her eyes. “Oh dear, I am not at all good at being a wife. Your limp was barely noticeable. I only noticed it because I once had a kitten whose leg was injured. I made a splint for her—well, I had help from Chastity, but it was I who kept a close watch on her so that she healed properly. When we left the church, I didn’t notice you limping at all.”

  His head whirled with the sudden change of topic, but he was given no time to catch up, for she launched into more explanation.

  “So, you needn’t give it another thought, for I don’t—and if anyone says differently, pay them no mind.” Her expression turned fierce. “If they say anything unkind, you tell me and I will deal with them.”

  He lifted a brow in surprise. “You mean you will defend my honor?”

  “Of course,” she replied with such quick honesty that unexpected warmth rippled through him. Aside from Stirling’s recent kindness, he had known little compassion, and certainly had not experienced that emotion from women.

  They bounced with another rut and Jessica grabbed his arm. Patrick squashed the impulse to pull her close and was relieved when the carriage came to a halt. They rocked slightly as Cobbs jumped from the driver’s seat.

  The door opened and Patrick looked at him. “Forgot about the ruts, did you, man?” Patrick smiled at Jessica. “Cobbs came late to driving coaches.”

  “I hardly noticed.” Jessica smiled at the rough-faced man.

  “It will no’ happen again, my lady.”

  He bobbed his head, then thrust a broad hand toward her. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to steady her steps from the coach to the ground. Jessica glimpsed his left hand, which he kept as his side, and noted the missing three fingers. Her heart twisted. What happened to the poor man?

  “There are no more dangers from here to the gate and the garden path to the door is swept clean,” he said.

  Patrick chuckled as he vaulted from the carriage. “And Cobbs would carry you so your feet don’t touch the ground, if you let him.”

  “So I would,” the big man said. “It is hig
h time that you brought a wife to Baldain.”

  “I have had you, old man.” Patrick took Jessica’s hand and started toward the house.

  Cobbs humphed, then hurried past them. He opened the gate wide and waited as they stepped through onto the stone-flagged path, well swept, just as he’d promised.

  Jessica noted Patrick’s slight limp as they strolled up the path, but it mattered not, for he walked tall and erect as a gentleman should. They reached the starkly white house’s blue-painted door and Patrick opened it. He swung Jessica into his arms and she thrilled when he carried her across the threshold.

  Cobbs stopped in the doorway after they passed through. “I will tend to the carriage and settle the horses. Maggie from the Golden Hart sent refreshments up to your room.”

  Patrick turned, Jessica still in his arms, and said, “Thank you.”

  The big man closed the door, leaving them alone in a startlingly empty hallway.

  “You may put me down now,” she said, though she half wished he wouldn’t.

  “As you wish, my lady.” He gently set her feet on the floor.

  Jessica surveyed her surroundings. No candles or lamps lit the area. Sunlight filtered in through a window set in the stairwell and light entered through three open doors. The two rooms on the right appeared bare. Up ahead, a formal sitting room bore at least a divan and two chairs. The remaining space held echoes, a tall ceiling, and walls made notable for the lighter squares that identified where pictures once hung. To her immediate left, steep wooden stairs rose to the upper floors. Three, if she trusted her first quick glimpse of the house. Though she supposed there would be a cellar and attic. Was the remainder of the house as bare as this floor? Her heart sank. Then anger flared.

  “Is this why you married me?”

  He frowned. “This?”

  “Your house.” She gestured toward the open doors. “Only your sitting room is furnished.”

  “There are other furnished rooms, though not many,” he said. “My bedchamber is one. The kitchen, of course. Cobb’s quarters. And a small dining room where all meals are taken. The others—”

  “Will be refurbished with my dowry,” she cut in. “That is why you married me. Does my father know you are impoverished? Lord Everson didn’t have any money, and Papa wouldn’t let Chastity marry him. He said the man only wanted her for her fortune and Chastity deserved a man who cared about her, not just her money.” She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t care about me at all.” She lifted her chin. “Take me home, this instant.”

  “Lass, I—”

  “I said you are to take me home,” she cut in.

  He frowned, then his mouth thinned. She’d seen a similar look on her father’s face when he set his mind to something—like the marriage of her and her sisters. Well, Lieutenant Patrick Chalmers was not her father.

  She whirled and took two steps toward the door. Strong fingers seized her wrist and he swung her into his arms.

  “How dare you?” she shouted.

  He marched toward the parlor.

  She squirmed. “Put me down.”

  He didn’t halt. Jessica thrashed. He hugged her so close to his chest that she felt as if she was in a vice. They entered the parlor and he dropped her onto a wing backed chair. She started to push to her feet, but he grasped her shoulders and held her still while he squatted eye level with her.

  “Hear me out. If you want to return home when I’ve finished my tale, I will take you myself.”

  She pursed her lips and folded her arms, but remained seated.

  He removed his hands from her shoulders and stood. “Baldain is my life and my curse. I agreed to Stirling’s proposal as a means to save my home.” He cast her a worried glance. “Aye, you were my only hope, if you want the whole sordid tale.” He paused and she realized he wanted her consent to go on. She dared not speak, for tears pricked the corners of her eyes, so she nodded. He gave a grateful smile that twisted her heart.

  “The very morning Stirling arrived with his offer, I awaited my solicitor and two bankers, who were my late father’s last creditors. I had repaid most of his debts by selling off everything of value. To satisfy these final loans, I agreed to give the creditors Baldain’s remaining land, keeping only the house itself.”

  “Oh,” Jessica breathed. Her heart squeezed. She couldn’t begin to imagine losing an inch of Gledstone.

  “They would have replaced the vast gardens with tenement buildings. Once, the gardens were called regal.” He sighed. “But that was long ago. It is now overgrown.”

  She unfolded her arms and grasped the chair arms. “You would like to see it restored.”

  “Aye, but I had a choice: lose all, or keep at least the house. If I sold the land, that would pay all remaining debts and Baldain House would remain in the family line.”

  Jessica searched his face. “So you did plan to marry?”

  “Eventually.” He looked down at her, so handsome in the thin sunlight. “Not this soon, though, I will admit.”

  “You wanted to clear your father’s debts first.” Of course, it made perfect sense.

  “My father left more than debts, lass.”

  Jessica stood. “I do understand. Gledstone Hall has been in my family for centuries. Living there is more like caretaking than owning. We are always aware of those who went before us, and who will come after we are gone. It is not so much a right, though I know some would say otherwise. My father taught us that Gledstone is a privilege and obligation, one passed down and bequeathed to us generation after generation. I cannot imagine the anguish should we lose even a foot of it.” She was surprised at the sting of tears. She threw her arms around his neck. “I acted very badly.”

  He hesitated and she feared she had doomed their marriage before it had become a real union. Then his arms wrapped around her and he gently stroked her hair.

  “Shh, sweet. You couldn’t have known. I should have told you before bringing you here. You deserve better, just as your father said about your sister.”

  She pulled back. “That was very different. Papa did not want Chastity to marry a man who didn’t care about her. And none of this is your fault. I am sorry your father—” She broke off.

  “Ruined his life and almost lost Baldain?” Patrick finished. He took her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. A shiver raced down her arms. “Never worry about speaking plainly, love. I wouldn’t want it otherwise.” He released her hand. “Baldain House isn’t ancient like your Gledstone. It was built by my great-grandfather, a wealthy merchant, in 1726. The house is young, as such estates go. But it represents everything and means even more to me.” He shrugged. “I would have sold my soul to keep it.”

  Jessica smiled. “Thankfully, you didn’t have to go that far. You only had to accept the Marriage Maker’s offer.”

  Patrick laughed. “Is that what you call him? The Marriage Maker?” His handsome face lit as his eyes crinkled at the edges. It was a transformation that did funny things to her stomach—and her heart.

  She beamed. “He did find excellent husbands for two of my sisters. Though I didn’t think it possible for him to marry me off.” She leaned toward him and his cock tightened when she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “I promised him I would make any man he chose dislike me.”

  “Nae,” he said in exaggerated tones.

  She looked up at him through her lashes and a primal need to claim her ripped through him. “But I do not want you to dislike me.” He froze when she reached up and tugged lightly at his cravat, “I will endeavor to be good, but I fear it will not be easy.” She lifted on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

  Patrick closed his eyes and willed his lust into submission.

  “I may not always act properly—as you just saw,” she said. “But I will do my best to make sure you aren’t sorry you married me.” He opened his eyes and cursed his timing. She stood so close and stared up at him with such open honesty that it took his breath. “Are you sorry?” she asked in a
quiet voice.

  He touched a faint mud-smudge on his topcoat. “Only that I was unable to completely clean my clothes after catching you.”

  She laughed with such delight that it seemed Baldain House leapt to life before his eyes. “I am sure Baldain will soon hum with many more servants than Cobbs, so any future mishaps can be nipped in the bud.” She took a step back and he resisted the urge to drag her to him. “Is that really your only regret?” she asked.

  “It is.” He traced a finger down her cheek. “The moment I entered the yew grove, some wild and ancient magic came over the place. When I looked up and saw you, then caught you, held you in my arms—”

  She threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest, and Patrick could do nothing but thank God for sending Stirling when he had.

  “I felt it, too,” she said into his coat. “Then, when my sisters helped me dress for the wedding, I felt almost ill. I did not want to marry someone else—not without having a chance to meet you, to know your name.” She tilted her head up and met his gaze. “I told my sisters of you and they insisted you were, well, you.”

  “They did, eh?” He flashed a smile. “How did they know? We’d never met.”

  “Sir Stirling described you.”

  “The scoundrel.” Patrick shook his head. “I should have known.”

  “He is a scoundrel,” she readily agreed. “Knowing you were my betrothed did give me an advantage.” A surge of happiness welled inside her. “Leastways for the nuptials. Naturally, I had no idea who you were when you happened upon me.”

  “You knew I was haunted.”

  “Are you really?” She stepped from his arms and glanced about. “Does your green lady follow you everywhere?”

  “I hope not.” He stepped closer.

  A prickling sensation swept through her. “I wouldn’t want her watching us, I mean seeing us when…”

  “When we make love?” he murmured.

  She nodded.

  “I have never heard of her doing anything so scandalous. I doubt she will appear for a very long while.”

  Jessica shivered. “How can you know? I have seen her twice now.”

 

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