Lord Grayson's Bride

by Tarah Scott

  She had scarcely allowed herself to hope that they might return to life as they knew it before Lord Wylst came into their lives. Josephine’s gaze caught on Annabel on the dance floor. Calum Denton, the 7th Marquess of Northington, was dancing with her too close for Josephine’s liking. She scanned the room as best she could for her father. Marquess or not, her father would not be pleased the young man was taking liberties.

  Lady Evers stepped into view, accompanied by Miss Henley. Lady Evers’ eyes caught, then narrowed on Josephine. “I wonder that you can show your face here.”

  Jo stiffened. Apparently news of Lord Wylst’s death was still on the minds of some small, petty people.

  “A person such as yourself has no business in a respectable home such as this.” Lady Evers scanned the people nearest them. “Is Lord Grayson here with you? I daresay he is. His audacity knows no bounds.” Her eyes came back to Josephine. “How a murderer can think to associate with decent folk—”

  Miss Henley gasped in unison with Josephine’s “Murderer?” Fury flashed through her. “If you are referring to Nicholas defending himself against Lord Wylst, you are mistaken. It is not a crime to protect oneself.”

  “Do not pretend you don’t know about the letter that was printed in the John Bull by James Stuart, solicitor for Baron Wylst,” Lady Evers shot back. “Poor Lord Wylst. It is now plain Lord Grayson did, indeed, murder him.”

  The letter printed? Darkness squeezed in around Josephine’s vision. Lord Wylst had made good on his threat to publish the truth upon his death? She, Nicholas, and her family had talked about this, knew it could happen. Despite Nicholas’ efforts, he had been unable to locate any solicitor who admitted to doing more for Lord Wylst than the passing legal matter. He owed money to half a dozen solicitors and Nicholas had concluded that even if the baron’s threat were true, he was so deeply in debt that it was unlikely he had paid any solicitor enough money to guarantee that his wishes would be carried out upon his death.

  But Nicholas had been wrong,

  The thought snapped Josephine from her stupor. Nick had been wrong and he would suffer as a result.

  She took a step toward Lady Evers. “I advise you to beware what accusations you throw about, my lady. Lord Grayson and my father will not take kindly to attacks on his lordship’s reputation and character.”

  Lady Evers shrunk back in uncertainty. She darted a glance at Miss Henley, whose eyes had gone wide as saucers.

  Anger pinched Lady Evers’ mouth. “The truth cannot stay buried forever.”

  Jo gave a harsh laugh. “Indeed not, as Sheriff Boyd demonstrated when he proved that Lord Grayson defended me against Lord Wylst.”

  “And you expect us to believe that the fact you are not truly Lord Montagu’s legitimate daughter has nothing to do with Lord Grayson killing the baron?”

  Her heart began to pound. If the news had reached Inverness from a small paper like the John Bull that could only mean that all of Great Britain knew. Her mind came to a sudden halt.

  “The John Bull?” she repeated. The story hadn’t been printed in the Times? “Isn’t the John Bull that new paper published only this year by Theodore Hook?” Josephine gave a condescending laugh. “My God, I am surprised that even you are fool enough to believe anything printed in disreputable paper like the Bull. Only the most uncouth of persons reads such a paper.” Which meant a great many in Society.

  “The Bull is a perfectly respectable paper,” Lady Evers shot back. “They publish parliamentary reports.”

  “Putting a dress on a sow does not make it a lady,” Josephine gave her a cold look. “I thought you were cut above that. It seems I was wrong.”

  Lady Evers drew a sharp breath. “How dare you?” A malicious gleam lit her eyes. “My father arrived with the paper from London just this afternoon. I wager Lady Beecham has yet to learn the truth. I feel it is my duty to seek her out and inform her that you are not who you pretend to be. She will not appreciate a person such as you being in her home.”

  Josephine felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Breathe, she couldn’t breathe. The Bull wasn’t the Times, but that wouldn’t stop people from believing the story.

  “Is something wrong?” a familiar male voice said.

  Jo snapped her head in Nicholas’ direction. Ladies Evers whirled. Miss Henley, Jo realized, had melted into the crowd.

  Lady Evers looked as if she might bolt.

  “Lady Evers has accused you of murder, my lord.”

  Nicholas lifted a brow. “Surely, there is some mistake, Lady Evers? I cannot believe you would make that kind of mistake.” His voice was low, but the menace was unmistakable.

  “Oh, but she has,” Jo pressed, her fury amplified by terror. “She has read some drivel in the John Bull written by a solicitor, who did you say, Lady Evers—” Josephine’s mind raced “—James Stuart?” She looked at Nick. “I have not heard of him, my lord, have you? He was supposedly Lord Wylst’s solicitor.”

  “I can’t say that I have heard of him,” Nick replied.

  “Then he cannot be anyone of consequence,” Josephine said. “Yet, Lady Evers puts the greatest stock in his word, and she is impressed by the fact that some letter Lord Wylst wrote has been printed in the Bull. Can you imagine?”

  “No,” he said. “I cannot. I wonder that Harris lets you read that paper.”

  “My husband does not censor what I read,” she snapped.

  “Perhaps he should,” Nicholas said “Particularly since he might find himself defending what you repeat.”

  Her face paled.

  “But I feel certain we can avoid that—so long as you are careful not to repeat any more dangerous gossip,” Nicholas said.

  Anger flashed in her eyes, but she nodded and said through tight lips, “Of course, Lord Grayson. Please forgive me.”

  He canted his head in acknowledgement and she hurried away.

  Josephine felt as if she would collapse.

  “Courage, Jo,” Nicholas said. “If you swoon now that will only feed the gossip.”

  “Oh, Nick, the worst has happened. Lord Wylst has exposed me.”

  “That is far from the worst that could have happened, Josephine.”

  She startled and swung her gaze to his face.

  “The worst that could have happened is that you could have disappeared from my life in that damn convent.”

  Josephine was sure she would cry.

  “Lady Josephine, if you cry, I swear, I will toss this champagne aside, take you over my knee, and paddle your pretty bottom right here in this ballroom.”

  She blinked, and a sliver of the feminine anger she’d felt when he first returned was resurrected. “That is an outrageous threat, even for you, Nick.”

  “I do not make idle threats, as you know. And don’t think for an instant you are not going to marry me,” he went on as if they were discussing the weather.

  Josephine shifted her gaze to the crowd beyond them in search of Lady Evers. Who was the despicable creature telling her story to at this very moment? Jo shook her head. “This is only the beginning. I cannot marry you. Surely, you can see that. You will be ostracized from Society if you marry me.”

  “I could care less what Society thinks. We would not be the first couple to marry under the cloud of scandal.”

  “Not this sort of scandal.”

  He grunted a laugh. “You forget Lord Philips, who married his mistress, a lady who happened to be an actress.”

  “That is nothing compared to marrying a bastard.”

  “Do not use that word,” he said sharply. “Remember, Jo, no one is alive who can verify Wylst’s story. Therefore, it is nothing more than an annoyance. Now, have some champagne.” He thrust a glass into her hand. “Then we will dance.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Josephine entered the small parlor reserved for the family. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, but her spirits didn’t raise as they usually did when entering the cheery room. She
crossed to the window and stared out at the garden. Sight of the roses alone usually brought her joy, but she could think of nothing but getting a copy of the Bull and reading the letter Lord Wylst had made public. She’d slept little, her mind turning over and over the possibilities.

  She and Nicholas had danced last night until the wee hours of the morning. No one else had approached them as Lady Evers had, but Jo hadn’t missed the furtive glances and whispers that stopped when she drew near. Lady Evers had spread her poison. Josephine prayed Nicholas had been bluffing with the threat of forcing Lady Evers’ husband to answer to her accusations, but Jo hadn’t known Nicholas to make an idle threat—including the one she knew still hung in the air between him and Lord Beaumond.

  The marquess hadn’t been heard from since he left Lady Allaway’s party, and she prayed the man had returned to England or, better yet, had fled to France as he had after ruining Nicholas’ sister. Jo felt on the edge of tears again. She had made a mess of everything. Nick was determined to marry her, despite the fact that everyone now knew the truth. If he one day regretted that decision—her chest tightened. She couldn’t bear that...nor could she bear to live without him.

  Josephine turned away from the window and walked to the couch. She stopped at sight of an oblong velvet jewelry box sitting on the cushion. She sat down beside the box, then picked it up and lifted the lid. Jo gasped. A single strand of pearls lay across the cloth. The pearls her father had given her. But how?

  A shadow in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked up to see Nicholas in the doorway, leaning, one shoulder against the jamb.

  Silent tears began to spill down her cheeks.

  “I believe I told you, Lady Josephine, that if you cried, I would take you over my knee.”

  “Did you do this?” she asked in a whisper.

  His gaze remained fixed on her face. “Aye.”

  She leapt to her feet, heedless of the pearls on her lap. They hit the coffee table with a clatter, skidded across the top, and dropped off the edge as Josephine rounded the table. She flew across the room toward Nicholas. He straightened from the doorjamb and took two steps into the room just as she flung herself into his arms.

  Josephine buried her face in his chest. “How-how did you find them?”

  “Finding the pawn shop was much easier than finding the solicitor Wylst sent that damn letter to. Did you know there are far more solicitors in Inverness than there are pawnbrokers? A staggering thought.”

  Josephine shook her head, unable to halt the tears. “Nicholas, you—”

  Strong fingers grasped her chin and tilted her face upwards. “No more tears, Jo.”

  “But you cannot—”

  “The Earl of Grayson can do anything he pleases,” he cut in. “Especially marry the woman he loves. The only woman he ever loved.”

  She shook her head, tears blinding her. “Everyone knows that I—” Her voice broke.

  “That you are the Marquess of Montagu’s daughter.”

  “Annabel must carry on my father’s title,” Jo said through a hiccupped sob.

  “Annabel will likely be carrying on a title of her own,” Nicholas said.

  Josephine shook her head in confusion.

  “The Marquess of Northington has offered for her.”

  “Offered for her?” Jo blurted. “Once he learns the truth about me—”

  “The truth—” Nicholas cut in, “is that Wylst tried blackmailing you with a falsehood, and when you refused to pay him and told your father, he went mad. A fact your father has already informed him of.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “Your father is no fool, Jo. He and Annabel met the matter head on.”

  “They did?”

  “Of course we did.”

  Josephine started at the sound of her sister’s voice, and Nicholas turned slightly so that she could see her sister and father in the hallway. Jo started to pull away from Nicholas, but he held her tight.

  “You will forgive me, Montagu, but I am not quite finished with your daughter.” Nick started to close the door, then paused when Dobbs, the butlers appeared at her father’s side.

  “Henry Maxwell and another gentleman are here to see Lady Josephine and Lord Grayson,” he said.

  “That would be Reverend Williams,” Nicholas said. “Tell him we will be down presently.” Nicholas nodded to her father, and said, “Montagu,” then closed the door.

  “Nicholas,” Josephine cried. “You can’t close the door in my father’s face.”

  “I can.” He drew her close.

  She glanced at the door. “What is Reverend Williams doing here?”

  “In a minute, Jo.” He cupped her neck and held her firm as his mouth covered hers.

  The kiss was gentle, sweet, yet her stomach flipped, and she feared her knees would buckle.

  He breathed deep, then ended the kiss and looked down at her. “We had better hurry.”

  Her heart raced. “Nick, the reverend, we cannot—”

  “Don’t force me to lay you down on that couch and make love to you, Jo.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Your father might allow me a kiss, but he is liable to take exception to me bedding his daughter while he and the rest of your family wait with the minister who is to marry us.”

  “Nicholas, you wouldn’t.”

  “Aye, love, I would.” His eyes gleamed. “And with relish.” He drew her against his side and opened the door. “Your father tells me you have not seen Cecily since her son was born. I think a long honeymoon at Whitehall is just the things for us. You can visit her.” Nicholas looked down at her as they passed through the doorway. “Once we decide to leave my bedchambers.”

  About the Author

  Award winning author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick. Her favorite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close second. She writes modern classical romance, and paranormal and romantic suspense. Tarah grew up in Texas and currently resides in Westchester County, New York with her daughter.

  About Highland Winds, Scrolls of Cridhe – Volume One

  If you enjoyed Lord Grayson’s Bride, you might enjoy the other novellas in Highland Winds – The Scrolls of Cridhe Volume 1

  In addition to Lord Grayson’s Bride, the collection contains the following:

  Highland Revenge – by Ceci Giltenan

  Hatred lives and breathes between medieval clans who often don’t remember why feuds began in the shadowed past.

  But Eoin MacKay remembers.

  He will never forget how he was treated by Bhaltair MacNicol—the acting head of Clan MacNicol. He was lucky to escape alive, and vows to have revenge.

  Years later, as laird of Clan MacKay, he gets his chance when he captures Lady Fiona MacNicol. His desire for revenge is strong but he is beguiled by his captive. Can he forget his stubborn hatred long enough to listen to the secret she has kept for so long? And once he knows the truth, can he show her she is not alone and forsaken? In the end, is he strong enough to fight the combined hostilities and age-old grudges that demand he give her up?

  The Taming of Mairi Mackenzie – by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  Mairi MacKenzie can bring the dead back to life but it is an unbearable curse. She hides away in the Glen of Winds, allowing folk to believe she’s a banshee.

  Once counted among Scotland’s greatest warriors, Sir Gare MacTaggert hasn’t lifted a sword in years because of a battlefield tragedy that broke his soul. Now he must marry, yet can't wed any woman, dead as he is inside. He seeks the banshee’s aid to restore his will to live. But together they must face a greater challenge: the forbidden love that could destroy them.

  Stealing Moirra’s Heart – by Suzan Tisdale

  Thrice widowed Moirra Dundotter needs a husband. With a reputation for losing husbands, the men of Glenkirby are not exactly lining up. Just as she is ready to give up, Moirra happens upon a very handsom
e man--locked in the village pillory.

  Desperate to be free of the pillory, the stranger reluctantly agrees to handfast with Moirra, but refuses to tell her his real name -- or much else about his past. He’ll stay only long enough to help her harvest crops in the fall. Two months. And not one day longer.

  Fate oft has far different plans.

  The conclusion of Moirra’s story is in Saving Moirra’s Heart, due for release on June 15, 2015.

  Spirit Stones – by Kate Robbins

  Connected to the spirit world, Sheona engages with souls long departed. When in the midst of a vicious battle, she is captured by her bitter enemy. Armed with only her gift, can she escape his clutches?

  Malcolm MacDonald seeks change. Exhausted from the ancient feud with the MacLeods, Malcolm sees no future for any of them until his enemy’s intoxicating daughter stirs a desire for peace that drives him to risk everything—except her.

  Together, they can change destiny—if they dare.

  A Tear for Memory – by Kathryn Lynn Davis

  Celia Rose lives happily in Fairies’ Haven, where the lies that protect her from the past keep the fairies away. She finds her only magic when she paints. Then a stranger comes on a mysterious errand, showing her new colors and new passions. But he also brings danger, and is not what he seems. Can Celia trust him enough to learn the dark secret that could both destroy her innocence and forge in her a woman’s heart?

  A Jewel in the Vaults – by Lily Baldwin

  In 1802, Edinburgh’s poverty-ridden Old Town is rife with danger. To safeguard herself, Robbie conceals her femininity--to all the world she is a lad, but beneath the ruse is a woman aching to break free.

  In pursuit of his prodigal brother, Conall MacKay solicits the aid of a young street lad named Robbie. But Conall soon realizes that there is more to both Robbie and Edinburgh’s Old Town than meets the eye.