Kissing the Countess

by Susan King

  She whirled to direct her anger toward him. "This is my home! I do not want to leave it like this, so fast."

  "They will force you to leave or marry. And I owe you a rescue. Frankly, I think you need one."

  "You're wrong," she snapped.

  But she knew, in her heart, that he was right. Her life had begun to change in the first moment she saw him, and it would never be the same.

  Chapter 10

  "Your father, the previous earl, attended my parish church." Holding a dainty teacup in his tough, squarish hand, Thomas MacConn looked at Evan. "But you and Lady Jean were raised in the Lowlands, as I recall." He frowned. "Do you attend kirk, sir?"

  "Of course. Regularly." Evan glanced at his sister, who sat beside Catriona. Lady Jean Gray, dark haired and beautiful in the first blush of early pregnancy, watched him, her expressive brown eyes wide. She glanced at her husband, a large, handsome fellow normally brimming with good spirits, who pressed his lips together grimly. Beside them, oblivious to the rest, Arthur Fitzgibbon took a bite out of a biscuit, crunching audibly.

  Evan was glad that Jean and Harry had come to Glenachan after learning of the mountain rescue. Arriving at the manse, they had managed to hide their astonishment when Evan had taken them aside to explain about his impending marriage, to be performed that night.

  Jean had kissed his cheek gently, while Harry had declared genially that Evan should stay off mountains if climbing got him into that much trouble. Jean had gone off in search of Catriona to welcome her to the family, a gesture Evan greatly appreciated.

  "Our mother made sure we attended church every Sunday," Jean said with her usual calm, "no matter where we were at the time, whether in Edinburgh or at her estate in northern England."

  "Did you attend services in the Established Church of Scotland or the Free Kirk?" Mrs. Rennie asked.

  "Actually neither." Evan set his teacup down. He would have done anything to escape the last tense, awkward half hour, but for Catriona, who sat on the horsehair sofa beside him in relative silence. He would not desert her.

  Mrs. Rennie huffed. "I knew it! You're a Mary worshiper!"

  "Aunt Judith!" Catriona burst out.

  "If he's a Catholic, he won't be able to marry you tonight, lass," her father said. "Not without obtaining a dispensation."

  "We attend Anglican services," Evan said sharply, resenting the whole business. "When in Scotland, we attend a Scottish Episcopalian church, or an Established Church. Does that meet your standards?" He had endured enough of his soon-to-be in-laws, and his admiration for Catriona had increased tenfold. He was more than willing to marry her to get her away from this.

  "Good," Thomas grunted. "The Anglicans and the Free Church recognize one another's wedding ceremonies. We'll go ahead with it tonight, as agreed."

  Catriona drew a breath. "Papa, I do not want—"

  "We must do this quickly," Judith Rennie said. "I apologize, Lady Jean, Sir Harry," she said, turning toward Evan's sister and brother-in-law. "This is not the best welcome for your first visit to the manse. So very awkward."

  "Not at all, Mrs. Rennie," Jean answered. "I am so relieved that my brother is safe after his disappearance yesterday, and I'm grateful to your daughter for her bravery and generosity. Their dangerous adventure was quite romantic, I think."

  "And I'm sure, under the circumstances, marriage is a good solution. It seems to suit everyone here." Harry smiled.

  Bless them, Evan thought. Harry was a kind, if blustery soul, and Jean had a sunny nature that was irresistible to most people around her. He was glad to see Catriona brighten and relax a bit.

  "Papa, I need some time to prepare for my wedding," Catriona said. "A few weeks—" She glanced at Evan, and he knew that she thought if there was no child, she could be free of the marriage. But the disgrace would always be with her.

  "The wedding is not as important as the marriage," Judith said. "You cannot spend another night in a state of sin."

  Aye, Evan thought. He was glad to rescue Catriona MacConn.

  * * *

  "Kildonan, sir! What an odd day this has been," Arthur Fitzgibbon said as he approached Evan, who was walking on the grounds of the manse.

  "Aye, Fitz," Evan said grimly as Arthur fell into step beside him. "Quite a day, I agree."

  He said no more as they strolled the path that cut over an expanse of neatly trimmed lawn that sloped downward toward a small loch in the distance. Modest flower gardens spread to either side of the grass, and the graveled path and a few stone steps accommodated the natural incline of the land. The gardens held few flowers this late in autumn, though chrysanthemums, holly bushes, and low evergreens lent good color to the beds.

  Behind them, the manse was a stately two-story building of gray stone, its mullioned windows shuttered with heavy draperies. Off to the left, Evan saw the parish church at the edge of the grounds behind some trees, its fieldstone walls and steeple picturesque. Ahead, the smooth surface of the lochan mirrored the dusky twilight. Attracted by the glimpse of mountains on the opposite shore of the loch, Evan walked toward the near shore. Arthur accompanied him, footsteps crushing pebbles.

  "Shall I offer congratulations?" Arthur asked.

  Evan noted the doubtful tone. "Thank you. I hope you plan to stay for the wedding."

  "Of course. Wouldn't miss it," Arthur replied. "Miss MacConn is a charming girl, and one cannot blame her family for wanting this marriage, given the, er, circumstances. But I must say I think it's a mistake for you to do this."

  "Oh?" Evan was not entirely surprised by Arthur's opinion. Fitzgibbon was older by a decade and as yet unmarried but certainly eligible, being a pleasant, intelligent fellow. He was of rather medium height with a strong build, good brown eyes and brown hair graying a bit in the mustache and sideburns. He had scarcely even courted anyone, so preoccupied with his own interests as an author and as a professor of natural philosophy at Edinburgh University. He studied glacial formations and mountainous land masses in particular, and when Evan had taken his classes, they had later formed a friendship based on a shared enthusiasm for geology and mountain climbing.

  Last year, Arthur had convinced Evan and some other friends to go on a climbing holiday in the Swiss Alps. Evan had gone reluctantly, but had discovered that the exhilaration of being so far above the world helped erase some of his dark grief over the bridge collapse. Since then, he had climbed the mountains of Wales and the Grampians of Scotland, and had looked forward to returning to Glen Shee, which was bordered by some of Scotland's highest mountain slopes.

  "Fitz," he said, "I trust you while scaling sheer rock and crossing the ice fields of the Wetterhorn, but I am not sure I trust your opinions regarding marriage. It is not your preferred state. But I have always wanted a wife and a family. So it's time I did something about it, and this... chance has come along."

  "Marriage of convenience, then," Arthur said. "Don't think about it, aye, just get on with it. That's the only way I could be persuaded to marry—but the timing is deuced awkward. Climbing club and all."

  "Ah," Evan said, nodding. "The Scottish Alpine Climbing Club—it slipped my mind in the excitement." Recently, he had agreed to host the same climbing group that he had traveled with in the Swiss Alps well over a year ago. The energetic force behind the club was his cousin, Miss Jemima Murray. She and several others were to stay at Kildonan Castle while conducting a hillwalking tour of the Highlands. Evan and Arthur had planned to undertake some local mountaineering with them.

  But he had not planned on being a newlywed. Frowning, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. What a time to bring home a bride. Kildonan Castle would be as full as a resort hotel.

  "Have our guests arrived yet?" he asked.

  "Not yet," Arthur said. "They were delayed by the same poor weather that hung you up, but they expect to hire two coaches and make the trip to Kildonan in a day or two. Good that they missed the trouble—your disappearance and so on."

  "And so on," Evan repe
ated wryly, amused at Arthur's capacity for glossing over details that did not directly relate to Arthur or to climbing or geology.

  "I look forward to good climbing days in the weeks ahead and the chance to investigate some of my glacial theories. You'll be free to join us, I hope."

  "I plan to, but—I must ask if my, uh, bride will want to join us. It would not be right of me to desert the girl quite so soon after we are married."

  "Bring her along. Highland girls are avid hillwalkers," Arthur observed. "This marriage business is difficult."

  "Unavoidable, Fitz," Evan said. "It's a bit of a scandal, but soon forgotten."

  "By all but you, eh? Nothing wrong in trying to get out of it, if you ask me. Give it some thought. Apologize to the girl and her family and offer them funds. Take care of the problem."

  "She's the minister's daughter, and I'm the earl of this region," Evan pointed out. "I will not follow in my father's footsteps. Every Highlander in this glen would soon despise me. Likely most of them do already," he muttered.

  "Miserable business," Arthur commented. "But... were you such a rascal with the lassie that there's no way out of the wedding?" Arthur peered at Evan. "Not my concern, but people will talk."

  "Let them. I am determined to do this. No matter what happened when we were alone, she is in full disgrace."

  "If her family tosses her out on her ear, find her a wee cottage somewhere and pay her upkeep until she finds a husband. That would give you... certain rights, anyway. Could be good."

  "I owe her more than that. She saved my life. If not for her, I could have died on that mountainside."

  "Well, I did come back for you," Arthur muttered.

  "Aye, I know. Thank you for organizing the search party."

  "So it does not matter who you wed, just that you wed?" Arthur asked. "The earl must have an heir and all that."

  Evan shrugged. "I admit there are provisions in my father's will, certain rights to the properties, that require that I marry and produce an heir."

  "Aha," Arthur said. "Hence your hurry."

  "I can marry anytime in the first year to gain those rights, so it is not particularly an issue. And yet I find myself rather insistent about going through with this." He half laughed, stopped to look up at the darkening twilight sky. "Odd indeed."

  "You're doing the chivalric thing, I suppose. The girl has a fine figure and a bonny face, though she's a wee bit dull for a countess. She'll do, though."

  "Aye, she'll do." Evan paused to look out over the loch in the gathering darkness.

  "Huh, look at the time." Arthur popped his watch open, then shut. "You'd best get ready."

  "There's little for me to do now. Lady Jean brought me a fresh suit of clothes, without knowing that I needed to dress for my own wedding." He indicated his plain black suit, black silk vest, and neckcloth of dark silk. "So I'm ready. But go ahead. I'll be along soon—I've got some thinking to do."

  "I'm sure of that," Arthur said, and he turned to depart.

  Evan looked out over the dark, glassy surface of the water, which reflected gray dusk overhead, and the long cluster of hills and snow-topped mountains on the opposite side of the loch. There would be rain later tonight, he thought. Not a good omen for a wedding—but nothing yet had brought good omens for this wedding.

  He frowned and glanced down, watching the water lap cold and clear to touch the leather toes of his black boots. Tonight he would make a wedding promise to a girl he scarcely knew.

  Yet in some way he did not understand, he felt as if this was right. He owed his life to her, and he took the debt seriously. And he wanted to be sure that any child was given a name and a family—and a father.

  Father. Was that it? he wondered. Was it the possibility that he might become a father? If he ever did, he would not abandon the child as his own had done, to fine houses and good educations and little or no good paternal influence. He wanted to be sure his own child, son or daughter, knew him—and felt safe, cherished, and loved.

  Perhaps that was what spurred him toward this enormous step, he thought. He felt strangely calm and determined about his choice. Something deep had awoken in him when he had lain with Catriona MacConn in his arms—something deeper than need and lust.

  As Earl of Kildonan, he would need a countess. But Evan Mackenzie wanted a wife and a companion. He wanted a family and love. And Catriona had a sort of simple, compelling magic for him that he could not explain.

  He did not think it was possible to love the girl after a day and a night with her, but it was long enough to recognize her finer qualities. She would make a fine countess and a fine wife.

  He only had to convince her of that after the marriage, and convince her to stay with him. It would take more than an exchange of vows to keep this countess, he knew.

  * * *

  What did one take when leaving one's home forever?

  Catriona stood in the middle of her bedroom, a simple space adorned with only a few favorite things—a framed engraving of the Torridon Mountains, a gift from her mother; a white coverlet stitched by her grandmother; and a few shelves of books that Catriona had treasured from childhood and upward.

  Sighing, she turned. Aunt Judith had said her things would be sent on to Kildonan Castle, so she need only pack what she would require for a few days. She had filled a leather portmanteau with clothing—a few blouses and skirts, a day gown, underthings. She needed a second case for her bulky petticoats, for shoes, for books and the notes for her song collection.

  Her garments were not many but were of good quality, for her mother had taught her that good fabric and quality workmanship reflected good breeding. But she lacked a countess's wardrobe.

  Frowning, she looked around She did not know what being a countess would mean—would she have to join lofty social circles, or could she simply carry on her life more or less as before, with the addition of... a husband, and perhaps someday a family.

  A dream that she once had thought could not come true for her had an unexpected edge. The irony of who she was marrying and how little she really knew about him made it less than a dream's reward.

  "You can come back anytime you like, you know." Finlay's voice filled in the silence.

  She whirled, holding a nightgown. The door was ajar, and her brother leaned there, regarding her calmly.

  "No need to pack in haste," Finlay said.

  "I'll just bring a few things and get the rest later." She set the folded nightgown into the portmanteau and picked up other garments from a few gathered on the coverlet.

  "You can pack your things later, and we'll bring them up to the castle. Or you could leave them here, Catriona." He watched her solemnly. "Until you are sure."

  "I'm not welcome here," she said stiffly, fighting tears.

  "You're always welcome where I am," he said quietly.

  She nodded, then sobbed and covered her face for a moment. Finlay crossed the room to put an arm around her.

  "I do not think I can do this, Finlay," she sniffled.

  "He's not such an ogre, your earl." He patted her shoulder. "You two did look rather good friends when we found you in the bothy," he murmured. "What could Father do but demand a marriage?"

  "But I am not ready to be any sort of countess—especially not Kildonan. I'm the Plain Girl, Finlay. Marriage was never planned for me."

  "You deserve happiness. Though this does throw our own wee scheme awry. You cannot help me now the way that we planned." Finlay frowned. "It poses too much risk for you now, as the countess."

  She looked at him, remembering Kenneth Grant's threats. "Finlay," she said, "perhaps you should stop doing this—"

  "I won't," he said. "I've got one family ready to bring out of the Glasgow tenements. And I'm still trying to locate some of the MacLeod clan. I won't stop now, even if it means I'll do it alone, without your help."

  "We were told that the new earl cared less than his own father about matters on the estate. But now that he will be in residence at Kildonan
Castle, he could ask some difficult questions. I do not want you to take such a risk."

  "Perhaps this will be a blessing in disguise."

  "How so?"

  "Just make sure the earl does not inquire too deeply while I continue my work. Once I get these families into cottages in the remote hills, no one will be the wiser for a long time. The shepherding and gathering and clipping will be done for the year, and the earl will be a wealthier man... and he will not much care how he got that way."

  "This one is not like his father," she said. "If he puts his attention on the estate, he will shortly discover what you have been doing."

  "Then you will have to charm him out of suspecting."

  "He and I scarcely know each other, Finlay."

  "He will listen to you. How could he resist?" Finlay smiled. "Just gain me a little time to finish what I've begun."

  She sighed. "I'll try." She turned away to gather more things to put into her portmanteau.

  But if she was to stop Kenneth Grant from making good on his threat to expose Finlay and send the Highlanders back into exile, she would have to become his mistress—at the same time that she became Evan's wife.

  She closed her eyes, sensing a cold lump of fear in the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter 11

  Clenching her toes nervously in flat slippers of black silk, Catriona could feel the silver coin that Lady Jean had given her for luck tucked under her left instep.

  Luck. She almost laughed at the thought.

  Even now she stood beside the Earl of Kildonan, being married before her father in the parish church of Glenachan. A handful of witnesses sat in the front pews of the little church—her aunt and brother, Evan's sister and her husband, and Evan's friend. The darkness inside the whitewashed interior was relieved only by the glow of candles. A chill in the air and the sound of fine rain on the windows reminded her of the night that had brought about this sober little wedding.