The Duke’s Scottish Lass_Brethren of Stone

by Tammy Andresen

  “If you’re not upset yet, then I shall continue. You need to speak with Delia about Reginald.”

  “That is not your business.” Stone made a heaving slash toward him but he was angry and his move was easily avoided because it was so obvious.

  “Delia is now my business. She thinks it’s her fault that Reginald died.” Roderick hit him with another body jab.

  “Eliza says the same, but it simply can’t be true. Why would she think—”

  “Don’t ask me, ask her. The silence is killing her, she needs to discuss it and you must give her permission to do so.”

  Stone faked left and then swung right, giving Roderick a good thump on his right side. He grunted from the force. “It’s not my way.”

  Roderick groaned. It had been a good hit but he used the extension of Stone’s arm to his advantage and plunged his sword in what would have been a kill shot if they were not only sparring. “Then make it your way. She needs to heal.”

  “I already told you to mind your own damn—”

  “Stone, I won. Victor’s spoil or whatever you wish to call it. But you are speaking to her.” He took a step back. “And then I need to talk with her too. She won’t consent to our match until she’s worked through her feelings.”

  Stone glared at him silently. He couldn’t refuse and Roderick knew it.

  * * *

  Delia watched them out the window. She’d at first thought to cook, working through her feelings but her feet had carried her upstairs instead to the salon where she’d met Roderick. Her thoughts swirled round her mind and she wanted to sift through them. But as she’d sat she’d heard the clash of metal against metal and had moved to the window to see Stone and Roderick sparring once again. Their mouths moved and she couldn’t remember ever seeing Stone speak so much. What were they discussing? Most likely their business. Stone took a giant heaving swing and Delia blinked. Her brother appeared angry. She wondered why.

  She did not have to wait long to find out. Within minutes of the men exiting the yard, Stone charged into the north tower salon.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, startled.

  “Roderick is under the impression that you blame yourself for Reginald’s loss.” Stone’s voice came out low and dangerous.

  Delia was unfazed by her brother’s gruffness. But Roderick’s betrayal was another matter entirely. “How dare he share—”

  “Share? So it is true? Delia, I consider you to be a woman of reasonable intelligence.”

  “Thank you, ever so kindly.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Stone ignored it. “But bloody bullocks, if anyone is to blame, it is me. I should have protected ye. If I hadn’t let ye fall, he never would have gone over. And I should have ordered him from the edge. He never did have any sense where ye were concerned. I told him twice he was too close.” Stone’s face had twisted into a painful knot. His breath caught and Delia felt her own throat tighten and swell to where she could barely breathe. Tears were stinging her eyes again.

  “I should have been watching, Stone. I was foolish and irresponsible. If I had only paid attention to what I was doing.”

  “You were a child.” He looked at her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “You don’t think I am at fault?” she breathed.

  “No, and neither does anyone else. The burden of guilt is mine to bear.”

  She shook her head. Stone bore much in this family. “Your burden is already too heavy, you should allow me to lighten it.”

  His eyebrows rose then. “I have been trying to get you to lighten my burden by marrying Lord Manchester. He just bested me in sword play. His business is growing. He, more than any other, could help me support this family.”

  Delia stared at her brother. For a man who spoke infrequently, he had boxed her into a corner with this conversation. She took a deep breath. “He said the marriage was Reginald’s idea.”

  “And so it was. Reginald saw beyond what Manchester was to what he could be. What he is now. He is a good man.”

  “But Stone, I am afraid.” She worried her lip with her teeth.

  “Of what?” Her brother patted her back awkwardly. It was not a usual part of their relationship.

  “How can I go on making a life when Reginald has none?”

  She heard Stone take a deep breath. “We owe it to him to lead the fullest lives possible. That is what would make him happy.”

  “Roderick said the same.” The noose was closing in. Roderick had been right about something else. Stone and Roderick were nearly impossible to fight.

  “He’s a smart man and he’ll make an excellent husband. Say that you’ll marry him so that I can dispatch the Earl of Sunderland post haste.”

  She gave her brother a glare. She was losing and she knew it, but she wasn’t ready to admit defeat, yet. “I shall think on it.”

  “You are a stubborn chit, you know that?”

  “I have had the very best teachers. Now, if you will excuse me, I’d like to lie down. It’s been a taxing morning.”

  “That is probably best.” He gave her back one final pat.

  “Stone, you really ought to talk more. You’re quite articulate when you put your mind to it.” She gave him a devilish grin. She was teasing him, but the truth was, their conversation had made her heart feel lighter.

  “I shall not speak for a month after this,” he replied solemnly.

  Delia shook her head. “That is absolutely absurd.”

  “Now go rest and decide when the wedding will be. I can have the bans posted tomorrow if necessary.”

  A scathing retort rose to her lips but the sound of the gatekeeper interrupted her words. Crossing the room to look out the tower’s other window, she saw a large band of travelers and wagons proceeding through the gates.

  “The Earl of Sunderland,” Stone gritted out.

  Chapter Six

  Even from her perch in the window, Delia decided she did not like Lord Sunderland. Riding at the front of the group, he wore a deep red cape over his cravat that spoke of a desire to be seen. His posture was incredibly stiff with none of the easy grace Roderick or her brothers had. She squinted her eyes. The look on his face was that of someone who had just smelled something awful. Did he look like that all the time?

  “Were you picking the least desirable candidate possible?” She turned to Stone, narrowing her eyes.

  He looked everywhere but at her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I could demand a season.” She crossed her arms.

  His face visibly paled. “You don’t even like…” His words trailed off.

  “I could learn to love it.” She fixed him with a pointed stare.

  “Understood.” Stone cleared his throat. “But what is the need? Manchester is a most acceptable choice—”

  “Enough.” She waved her hand at her brother as she huffed. In her heart, she was feeling the shift. She would marry Roderick, but Stone didn’t know that yet and the problem of emotional attachment still plagued her.

  “Should I introduce Sunderland then?”

  “May as well,” she grumbled as she gave him a final glare.

  “We’ll meet him in the entry, come with me.” Stone exited and she followed.

  It was worse than she could have ever imagined. Lord Sunderland did indeed always look as though he had smelled something awful. His hooked nose curled up distastefully so that she had a clear view of every nose hair that protruded from his overlarge nostrils.

  Admittedly, he was neither fat nor old but he was no less unattractive. Unlike Roderick, he had clearly never swung a sword and his thin body looked soft in his clothes, a contradiction that was most puzzling.

  As he was introduced, he dramatically twirled back his blood cape, which was mostly out of fashion, even Delia knew that, so that it sailed behind with a giant flourish. He bowed to her. “My lady.” And his nasally voice grated every sense she had.

  She cur
tseyed. “My lord,” she murmured, but he was barely looking at her. His eyes were taking in every detail of the castle’s main room.

  “What a majestic home you have.” His eyes continued to dance from place to place. “A few splashes of color would do wonders.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, though it hadn’t really been a compliment.

  He didn’t look at her or respond. Instead he turned to Stone. “My Lord.” He bowed. “I would request a moment of your time to discuss the details of the dowry.”

  Stone’s head reared back, his teeth baring slightly. “There will be time enough for that. Why don’t we allow you time to…freshen up after your long journey?”

  “Most right.” He gave another elaborate bow and then the butler moved to show him to his room.

  Stone stood completely still until the party had exited the main room, then he turned to her. “I don’t know what punishment you want to bestow upon yourself but I’ll not assign a penny of your dowry to that man.”

  Her lips parted in argument but then she closed it again. Truth be told, he made her skin crawl. If she were honest, she had pictured a kind grandfather and her imaginings had never wandered behind the chamber door. To think of that man taking his husbandly rights made her queasy. But she didn’t want to give Stone the satisfaction of admitting it. Not yet, anyhow, so instead she turned and left for her room.

  She would not get that rest now. Instead, she would be changing her attire, yet again, to greet her gentlemen callers.

  * * *

  Glazed eyes stared out the window. Delia had long given up attempting to listen. Lord Sunderland had been droning on for over an hour. She thought they were now talking about his wardrobe but she couldn’t be entirely certain. They had first talked about how he had redecorated his town house. It had included gold plating of several items done in French stylings.

  His nasal voice continued on, “I have found with my dark hair that red is the color that suits me best. The dye must be imported from China, but truly, it is worth it. Don’t you think?”

  “Mmmm,” she responded. She glanced over at Eliza as she chaperoned. The other woman’s face held the same blank stare. Delia had quickly realized that her participation was not required for this conversation so she sat and pictured Roderick swinging his sword yesterday.

  “Pardon the interruption,” Stone’s voice called from the door. “But Lady Delia has another appointment.”

  “Another appointment?” Lord Sunderland nasally voice responded incredulously. “I was not aware that—”

  “You’ve now been made aware,” Stone cut him off. “The Duke of Manchester.”

  Roderick’s large body filled the door. He gave Lord Sunderland a simple nod.

  Sunderland stood, giving a bow.

  “Sunderland,” Roderick mumbled.

  Sunderland stared at his competition with open curiosity. It was the first time he had been silent since he had entered the room

  Roderick raised his eyebrows. “If you will excuse us.”

  “Of course.” Sunderland made for the door. Finally when he reached the threshold, he turned back to Delia. “My lady.”

  She gave a nod, sighing with relief as he went. Stone followed Sunderland out the door and then Eliza settled herself inconspicuously back in the corner.

  The door closed softly and Roderick crossed the room, and took her hand into his. For a half a second, she made to protest but the second he touched her, a thrill ran through her and she sighed instead. How could one touch be so comforting and yet amazingly exciting, all in one breath?

  “How do you fare?” he whispered in her ear.

  Inexplicably, tears sprang to her eyes. She had just entertained another suitor and yet he was asking after her well-being. Either his roguish ways had taught him exactly what to say or he was more concerned with her than with himself. “Do not attend me so, if you are not sincere.”

  His lips curled into a smile, and the hair upon the back of her neck raised up. “Delia, only you can take a question of concern and turn it against the asker.”

  She looked to the side but a one corner of her lips turned up. The exchange pulled her out of her sadness. While she was happy to spar verbally with him, especially after the exchange she had just had with Sunderland, she wanted her body pressed closed to his. She was drifting closer to him and she wanted to touch him again, like she had in the kitchen. “I am not turning it against you, simply making sure. How do you fare?”

  One of his hands came up and cupped her cheek. He glanced quickly at Eliza and Delia followed his gaze but her sister-in-law stared determinedly at her embroidery. “I am fine, but I will be better when Sunderland has left and you have agreed to our marriage.”

  Her eyebrows cocked. “Marriage? I haven’t even agreed to courtship yet.”

  His dimples appeared again. “Fair enough.” His look grew more serious. “It is better that you don’t make your decision yet. I have something else to share first,” he whispered in her ear.

  A flutter of nervousness made her breath quicken. What could it be that he was glad she hadn’t agreed to marriage? Surely it was terrible. “What is it?”

  “In the kitchen tomorrow, I’ll tell you. I promise.” His lips whispered over her ear.

  Delia took a deep breath. He’d been working so hard to convince her to the marriage, she tried and failed to think of what he might have to tell her that would change her mind. Especially when she was just beginning to warm to the idea of marriage. “Tell me more about yourself. What is your home like? What do you have for family?”

  “It will be just you and I. I was an only child and my parents passed some time ago. My mother when I was a teen and my father shortly before—“

  “I understand. I am sorry for your loss. Here I am going on about my suffering when you have experienced so much of your own.” She bit her lip. In her attempt to honor Reginald, she had neglected to think of Roderick’s loss.

  “Don’t be sorry. I understand why Reginald’s loss has been so difficult. Stone blames himself too, you know. He thinks he should have taken better care of both of you.”

  “That is absurd. Stone cannot control the actions of other people all of the time. It is no more his fault then it is—”

  “Yours?” Roderick asked.

  The weight of his words bore down on her. Was he correct that she had little to do with his death? Her knees weakened and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, supporting her weight. Eliza remained blessedly silent despite the intimacy of their embrace.

  “My home sits upon a cliff, looking down at the water, much like yours. You can see the clouds roll in before a storm. It is in desperate need of redecoration but I will leave that up to you. The main hall is…” his voice whispered in her ear, its melodious baritone soothing the jangled edges of her nerves. She began to picture the place he’d described and, she knew, she was picturing herself living there.

  Her head fell against his chest as she spoke. “I will miss my family.” She hadn’t meant to say those words. She’d hardly admitted to herself that she’d made the decision but there it was. She’d chosen Roderick after all. Amazingly, a weight lifted off of her shoulders. Somewhere deep inside, she knew that Reginald would be pleased. It near brought tears to her eyes and she clutched at his arm.

  “I will bring you here often, your brother has already agreed to let Matthew travel with us. I could use a second in command, an opportunity he does not have here.”

  “Matthew and Bridget will come with us?” To have them and her nephews would mean so much.

  “Of course, love. I want you to be happy. I will do whatever—”

  “Am I really your love?” Her eyes held his. She needed to know the truth.

  There was a flicker for just a moment before he answered. What did it mean? But then it was gone. “Always,” he soothed in a hushed voice and his lips came down on hers in a soft kiss. “Besides, I have made a commitment to your brother to honor you. It is t
he third reason on my list that you will be my wife.”

  “That list,” she breathed, but then rising up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his again. Longing to press closer, her arms tightened around him.

  “Not here.” He smiled down at her but his body straightened away. “I will have to leave soon. Stone and I have much to discuss.”

  She nodded. If only Reginald could be here to see her marry his best friend. But, she would honor her brother’s memory by acceding to his wish. There was nothing to be done for it, she was losing her heart to Roderick in the process.

  Chapter Seven

  Roderick walked out the door, closed his eyes, and leaned his forehead against the wall. She had all but agreed to be his wife. He hadn’t rested against a wall like this since his father had passed. Then, he had been burdened by the responsibility of taking on the title and the debt. Now, he was weakened by the attraction that was consuming him for the beautiful and outspoken Delia. And he’d sworn upon Reginald’s death that he’d be a perfect gentleman. The man she deserved. Though, that wasn’t his most pressing problem. All his gains could be lost still.

  What stood between him and his promise to Reginald, and to himself, was the knowledge that he had rescued her. That should be a simple admission but with Delia’s guilt over the loss of her brother, he knew why Stone hadn’t told her. Her brother worried that she would take her own guilt and transfer it to him. She may think that Roderick had rescued her when he should, in fact, have rescued Reginald.

  It made him physically ill to think she may slip through his fingers because he had saved her to begin with, but he couldn’t change it, and wouldn’t if given the choice.

  He tried to remember a time that he had been more nervous and couldn’t. He would rather battle a hundred pirates on the open sea than tell Delia he’d rescued her, but Delia deserved the truth.