…
The ball in honor of The McKinnon and his bride turned out to be the most magical night of Sybil’s life. During her four Seasons, she’d danced with numerous men in dozens of English ballrooms, but none had moved her quite the way Liam did. Not that he was a better dancer. In fact, he lacked the smoothness and polish of the better Englishmen. But when he held her close in a waltz, pulling her even nearer when they went into a turn, for the first time in her life she felt as if she would swoon.
She’d also been approached by many of the MacBride Clan to dance a Scottish reel or a quadrille. But it was always back in Liam’s arms where she’d felt a rush of excitement and joy. She found herself wanting to giggle every time he glanced her way. She’d never been that type of woman and used to smirk at other girls who would have that sort of a response to a man’s attention.
Yet her giggle would turn to desire when he slanted a smoldering look in her direction as he conversed with another guest. Goodness, the man could set her heart to thumping and her stomach to quivering so easily. But was that love? Or merely lust?
Now, she and Margaret sat on Sybil’s bed going over the evening and sharing stories much like they’d done for years when they were in London during the Season. Generally, her twin, Sarah, would be right there with them. It was times like this that she missed her sister the most. If she did decide to accept Liam’s proposal she would insist that Sarah stay for a while after the wedding.
The wedding! Heavens had she gotten that far that she could think of her wedding? Perhaps it was time to put Liam out of his misery and accept his offer. She grinned at the thought of how they would celebrate her decision.
“What are you grinning at?” Margaret’s voice broke into her reverie, reminding her she was being especially rude by ignoring her guest.
“Oh, nothing in particular.”
Margaret’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed? Why do I get the feeling you were thinking about a certain handsome Scot who could not keep his eyes off you all evening?”
Sybil felt the blush start at her toes and climb all the way to her face. Had Liam been that obvious? “I don’t suppose there is any point in denying it.”
“Not at all. Have you accepted his offer of marriage?”
Sybil sighed. “Not yet.”
“It is obvious the man adores you. You should have seen his face every time you were on the dance floor with another man. When one of his clan asked you to waltz, I thought Liam would break the poor man’s arm wrestling you away from him.” Margaret covered her mouth and laughed. She paused and took Sybil’s hand. “Why haven’t you accepted his offer? Do you not feel the love for him you have always insisted had to be part of your marriage?”
“I’m not sure. I think perhaps love is involved, but there is one big obstacle standing in my way.”
Margaret tilted her head in question. “And that would be?”
Sybil wrinkled her nose. “Lady MacBride.”
“Oh.” Margaret sat back and shook her head. “Not a very pleasant woman, I’m afraid.”
“Yes. Quite true. She has been most unpleasant to me ever since I arrived.” Lady MacBride had also extended her poor manners to Margaret. Sybil had been embarrassed several times at the curt responses she’d given both to her and Margaret. Most times it was when Liam was not around to hear her.
“Well, you wouldn’t be marrying the woman.”
“Come now, Margaret, you must know when women are to live in the same house, no matter how large, if there is animosity between them, it can make for a very troublesome life.”
Margaret gave her a slow nod. “I am afraid you have the right of it in that regard. What does Liam say about her?”
“He has indicated that she has a deep-seated dislike of all things English. He’s even said he would speak to her, but I really don’t want to cause problems between mother and son.”
“Nonsense. Liam does not strike me as the type of man who is led about by his mother. I think you are giving this situation too much importance.”
“Perhaps.” Sybil twisted her fingers. “There is something else.”
Margaret regarded her with raised eyebrows.
“You seem happy, Margaret, truly you do. But I must say I don’t know for certain if I could be content away from my family, my country. Things are different here. If I marry Liam my children will be raised in the Scottish way.”
She clasped Margaret’s hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You must think me horrid, since your children will be raised Scottish.”
“I know. And I have thought about it. But if you truly love someone, nothing else really matters.”
“So your marriage has become a love match?”
Margaret giggled, her face a bright red.
Sybil smiled. Well, that would certainly make a difference. However, while she cared a great deal for Liam, her heart was still a few steps away from the word love.
They both sat in silence for a few moments as Margaret composed herself. “What of his sisters? They seem to be sweet girls.”
“Oh, they are wonderful. I miss my own sisters so much, and they have definitely filled a bit of that hole in my heart.” After her initial reticence, Alanna had become as open and likeable as Catriona. The girl had even come to her for advice on how to have their maid dress her hair for her very first ball. Both girls had looked exquisite. Liam would have his hands full keeping the men away from them once they reached their come-out.
“See. There you have it. Three out of four people love you. You’ll just have to learn to ignore the woman.” She paused. “And I can almost guarantee that once a babe is on the way, she will change her attitude.”
Sybil’s face heated again, concerned that a babe might already be on the way. If that were to happen, the choice would be taken away from her. She really must rein in her lust for the man and not allow him anymore privileges until they got this marriage thing settled. Hoping Margaret hadn’t noticed her blush, she said, “I hope you’re right. But I’m not as certain as you are. Don’t forget the babe would have English blood.”
Yes, a child with both English and Scottish blood. Shouldn’t she prefer to raise him in the English way? She sighed. All of this had her going around in circles.
A scratch at Sybil’s bedchamber door drew their attention.
Bessie entered at their summons. “I’m sorry to interrupt, my lady. But The McKinnon asked me to remind Lady McKinnon that her bedchamber is down the corridor.”
“Oh, heavens.” Margaret jumped up, covering her reddened cheeks with her hands.
“It seems your husband is feeling a bit lonely, Margaret.” Sybil laughed at her friend’s distress. It appeared Margaret had made an excellent adjustment to the marriage bed.
“Yes. I believe you are right.” Margaret bent and gave Sybil a hug. “I will see you at breakfast.”
“Yes. If your husband allows you out of bed.”
“Sybil!” Margaret turned and fled from the room to the sound of Sybil’s laughter.
Chapter Sixteen
Three days after the ball Lady MacBride entered the library, her lips tightened. “Ye wish to speak with me?”
Liam put down the pen he was writing with and stood. “Good morning to ye, Mum.” He waved at the chair in front of his massive wooden desk. “Yes. Please have a seat.”
She fiddled with her skirts, avoiding his eyes. “Ye need to make it quick, I have many things to attend to.”
Duncan and Margaret had left after dinner the prior evening. Once again, his mum had excused herself right from the dinner table, leaving Margaret and Sybil staring at each other at the woman’s lack of manners to her guests, and Liam fuming at her behavior.
The ball had been a success, everyone wishing The McKinnon and his wife happiness and a long, fruitful marriage. Everyone except Mum. Luckily, it appeared no one in his clan had noticed her lack of enthusiasm.
Liam smiled, remembering the broad winks and nudges he’d received
from clansmen hinting that it was near time for him to join his friend in matrimony. Not too subtle glances and nods were tossed in Sybil’s direction, whom he’d made sure spent most of the evening beside him.
But now the time had come to speak to Mum about her refusal to accept the way things were.
He remembered his da having problems with Mum, also. As much as they loved the woman, and thanked the good Lord for her love and devotion to her family, she could be a trial with her stubbornness.
He agreed with his clan. It was time to marry and begin producing bairns. And he would have no other than Lady Sybil Lacey. He steeled himself to face the biggest challenge to his happiness. The conversation he was about to have was not one he’d been looking forward to.
His heart told him that Sybil was ready to accept his proposal. Besides which, they were moving into dangerous waters with their inability to keep their hands off each other. The matter had to be settled.
Liam rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, his fingers cupping his chin. “Ye ken I hold Lady Sybil in great regard.”
His mum brushed invisible lint from her apron. “Foolishness.”
“Nay, Mum. Not foolishness. I’ve asked the lass to marry me, and I believe she is ready to accept.”
Her face flushed, Mum pushed back her chair and stood, her hands fisted at her sides. “Nay! I’ve said it before, and I say it now. I will never accept a Sassenach daughter-in-law. Ye need to look for a Scottish lass to wed.”
As much as he wanted to shake the stubborn woman, he managed to remain calm. He would prefer not turning this into a battle. However, he’d given his mum enough time to adjust to the inevitable. He loved Sybil, intended to marry her, and get her with child as often as he could. And nothing was going to stop him. Not even the woman who had given him life.
“Ye need to put aside yer prejudices. Lady Sybil is a wonderful woman. She is smart, kind and from what I have seen since she arrived here, very patient with yer rudeness.”
“She’s fooled ye. Once ye make her yer wife she’ll turn on ye. Just like the English have always done. She’ll make ye miserable yer whole life, always looking for more and more, wantin’ everyone to wait on her, lookin’ night and day fer ways to spend yer coin.”
Liam dragged his palm down his face. This was not going to be easy. He’d been fooled, all right. Fooled into believing his mum would have seen the goodness in the lass by now. She’d been here for weeks and had remained ever pleasant to Mum, even though the woman had treated her shamefully. The time had come to take a stand and let her ken how things were going to be.
“Ye mistake my intentions in speaking with ye. I am not seeking permission. I dinna need it, nor want it. Lady Sybil is my choice for a bride, and I have every reason to believe she will have me. I am giving ye the courtesy of kenning ahead of time, and asking ye to be helpful to the lass in planning the wedding.”
Her face grew red to the point where he feared she would suffer apoplexy. “I won’t be planning a wedding for a Sassenach. If ye want to make a fool of yerself with the Englishwoman, ye won’t be seeing my hand in it.”
He stood, towering over her, both their bodies shaking with rage. “Woman, ’tis the end of the discussion. I am yer laird, and I order ye to cease your blathering and prepare to make peace with the lass. I won’t have ye causing unhappiness.” He stopped to catch his breath, trying very hard to rein in his anger. “If ye insist on making things miserable for everyone, ye will find yerself living beyond these walls.”
His mum reared back as if slapped. “Ye would put yer own mother aside for a Sassenach?”
“Nay. I would put my own mother aside for my wife.” He softened his expression and reached out to her, but she turned away from him. “I just ask ye to give the lass a chance.”
She stubbornly shook her head and then waved her finger at him, much like she had done when he had been a lad and in trouble. “Ye will regret the day ye turned yer back on your Scottish ancestors who are surely today spinning in their graves. Mayhap ye can forget Culloden, but I cannot. Nor how they took our land and tossed us off our farms to starve. We suffered at the hands of the woman ye would make the mum of yer bairns. ’Tis a sad day.”
“By the saints, woman! Ye are speaking history. None of us were even born then. ’Tis time to put yer hatred aside and begin to see what yer future daughter-in-law is like.”
She waved her finger at him. “Ye had yer own dislike of the English all yer life. What has this lass done that changed ye? Or should I take a guess at what she did for ye that has ye so bewitched?”
If he’d ever come close to actually striking a woman it was at this very moment. Helping to rein in his anger at his mum’s wicked accusation was the fact that he and Sybil had indeed engaged in improper behavior. But ’twas more than lust that drove him.
“Ye shall not speak of the lass that way ever again!”
He took a calming breath. “She is different from the English. And if ye can’t see it, then yer blind.”
For a minute he thought she intended to continue the argument. Then with a tilt of her chin and a smug look she said, “Ye might still have another chance to wed the right woman.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What are ye blathering about now?”
“Ye were betrothed to the McLaughlin lass when ye were a bairn.”
He hadn’t thought of The McLaughlin, nor his daughter for years. He’d still been a lad when the two lairds had stood before a magistrate over a dispute that broke the friendship the men had shared for years. “Aye, And da canceled that betrothal when he and The McLaughlin had a falling out. That was years ago, woman.”
“Aye years ago. Since the matter at the heart of the problem has since been resolved, the bad feelings between our clans is naught.”
He didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “What is yer point?”
“Before ye went to the McKinnon’s wedding, I sent a letter to The McLaughlin, telling him ye were searching for a wife, and he should re-consider his daughter, Anise.”
“Ye did what? Ye had no right!” Blood pounded in his head so fiercely he thought it would spew out his ears.
She drew herself up. “I am yer mother. I had every right to see that you upheld your responsibility to the clan.”
“My responsibility to the clan is mine. And yer attempt to manage my life is for naught since the McLaughlin lass has probably married and has bairns tugging at her skirts.”
“Nay. She was indeed wed, several years ago, but her husband died and her da is anxious to see her wed once again.”
“I wish the man luck, but he will not be wedding the lass to me.”
“Ye can at least take a look at her.”
“Nay. Ye will send a note to the man and tell him I am about to be married to someone else and wish him well with Anise.”
When she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, he said, “Ye Laird is speaking to ye, woman.”
“As you wish, my laird.” She turned on her heel and left the room.
Feeling as if all the air had been let out of his lungs, he collapsed into his chair and leaning his head back closed his eyes. But ’twas done. He’d told her what she needed to do.
…
“Why won’t you tell me where we are going?” Sybil tugged on her gloves as Liam hurried her out the door.
“’Tis a surprise. I’ve been busy all morning with correspondence, now I wish to have some time with my lady.”
The afternoon air was warm, making her quite comfortable in just her gown and a light pelisse. She tied the wide ribbons of her bonnet and breathed deeply of the clean, fresh air. The hills were covered in deep and light green shades, reminiscent of a counterpane she’d had on her bed as a young girl. The Highlands was truly a beautiful place.
They wandered along, Liam pointing out various places he’d played as a child, obviously very fond of his country and home.
He gestured toward a gnarled oak tree that seemed to end
in the clouds. “’Twas there Duncan and I climbed to the top and were too afraid to come down. The lad and I spent the entire night up there.”
“All night?”
He nodded. “The next morning my da and Laird McKinnon had clansmen from both castles scouring the countryside looking for us. And when they found us, well, ’twas a long punishment, that time.”
“How old were you?”
“About six summers.”
She shivered. “I would be so frightened if a child of mine were missing all night.” Just the thought of sweet little Robert, Drake and Penelope’s boy, being away all night was enough to make her heart beat double time. In England such a thing would not happen. Children were not given such freedom at tender ages.
Liam took her hand in his, and they strolled a bit more until they reached a pond. The water was clear and crisp, with sunlight casting diamond-like sparkles on the water. Another enormous tree, with a rope dangling from one of the branches, hung over the water.
“Let me guess,” Sybil said. “You and Duncan would swing from that rope and land in the pond?”
“Aye. It sounds as though ye may have done the same thing as a lass.”
“We did. Drake snuck a rope from papa’s garden shed and hung the line. He and Joseph, his best friend, tried to keep it a secret from the rest of us, but my sister, Abigail, ferreted out the information. They never had a moment’s peace after that.
“You know, sometimes I find it hard to believe we are all grown up. Joseph is now married to Abigail, Drake is married to his beloved botanist, and Marion’s husband is back home. It doesn’t seem all that long ago that we were all children, running around our estate grounds, getting into trouble.”
“And one day I hope to have our bairns running around here.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Just say the word, lass.”
Deciding silence was the best answer, she continued on. Soon they arrived at the top of a hill, and Sybil gasped as they crested the peak. Before them was the sea, an angry expanse of blue-black water that pounded on the huge rocks, spewing foam high into the air. The salt air blew into their faces, whipping Liam’s hair into his face.
The Highlander's Choice (Entangled Scandalous) (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Page 15