Kiss the Wallflower: Books 4-6

by Gill, Tamara

  He frowned, looking between Lizzie and Sebastian. "No, I did not." He turned that frown on to Elizabeth. "Does your brother know?"

  "No," Lizzie said, her voice unfazed, but he could feel the tension in her stance, feel the slight shiver that raked over her skin. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, and she threw him a wobbly smile. "I'm here to tell him."

  Lady Clara seemed to shake herself out of her shock and came and gave Elizabeth another hug, kissing him, too, on the cheek. "Congratulations to you both. This is wonderful news."

  Lizzie relaxed somewhat at her ladyship's words, but the felicitations did not ring true to Sebastian. "Is Brice home?"

  "He's in his office," Mr. Grant said, throwing Elizabeth a small smile.

  "Thank ye." She turned to him, taking his hands. "I think I should speak to Brice on my own. It'll be a shock to him to hear this news, and I dinna wish to upset ye by his initial reaction."

  There was no way he was allowing Elizabeth to face her brother without him. If the laird jumped to the conclusion that the marriage was for the initial reason it was, he needed to be there to defend himself.

  You cannot defend the indefensible.

  Sebastian ignored the warning voice in his head. As much as he was relieved to know Halligale was back in his hands, that his children would grow up and inherit the estate, the union between him and Lizzie was so much more than the ancient pile of bricks.

  After her declaration of love, the words had been spiraling about in his mind, taunting him to admit what he felt for the woman staring up at him with nothing but affection in her beautiful green eyes.

  "No, I shall come with you. Your brother needs to hear from both of us, a united front, husband and wife."

  With the slightest of nods, she pulled him forward into the home. The estate rivaled even his in Nottinghamshire. The ancient, medieval wooden beams, the staircase, and entrance to the great hall were enormous. Yet, the house did not feel cold or unwelcoming. Large tapestries and family portraits hung on most walls, roaring fires burned in the grates, and he could hear laughter and a woman's voice somewhere else in the home.

  "Brice should be through here," he heard Lizzie tell him as he followed.

  Sebastian had never met the Laird Mackintosh, had heard his brother mention him with nothing but loathing and anger after he'd lost Halligale in the card game. The man who met his eyes was not what he expected.

  He'd assumed the laird to be similar to him in stature and height. He was wrong. The laird was a behemoth of a man, tall and muscular, a Scottish warrior of years past. Sebastian swallowed, pushing down the fear that the man before him could strike him down with his bare hands, and without much effort.

  "Brice." Lizzie walked quickly over to her brother and into the man's open arms. He kissed her crown, holding her a moment before he raised his head and spied him standing in the doorway. He hated to think what the Scot thought of him. Sebastian felt as though he had not measured up to his standard from his cool consideration.

  He spoke, his voice deep and commanding. A voice that, when spoken, others listened to. "Who is your guest, Elizabeth?"

  She came back over to him, taking his hand and pulling him into the room. Sebastian made certain he put some of the desk between the two of them.

  "Brice, I would like to introduce you to my husband, Sebastian Denholm, Earl—"

  "Hastings," her brother finished for her, his eyes pinning Sebastian with ire. "Husband?!"

  Sebastian did not want to flinch or show any sort of fear before the laird, but his yelling of the word husband had been unexpected and did catch him off guard. He pulled Lizzie beside him, holding her close. "That is right, my lord. We were married several days ago in Dalmahoy."

  The laird's glower did not bode well, not for either of them. "Ye are the brother to the late Earl Hastings?" he queried, his brogue a lot heavier than his sister’s. Sebastian also did not miss the thread of wariness in his tone.

  "Yes. Emmett Denholm was my elder brother."

  "And ye are in Scotland for the Season, hell-bent on catching my bonny sister’s hand in marriage by the looks of it. Why are ye not in England like all the other Englishmen marrying English ladies?"

  He shrugged, smiling, knowing that from the tone of Lizzie's brother, he did not like Sebastian at all, or the fact he'd made her his wife. "Is not your wife English, my lord?" he put in, not allowing the continual slights to pass undefended. He would only put up with so much before words had to be said.

  The laird's eyes narrowed, and Sebastian wondered how far he could taunt the Scot before he had a solid crack across his jaw. He held no regard for the fiend, not after the laird had stolen Halligale from under his brother's nose when he wasn't in the position to gamble and think straight in the first place. Practically robbing his family of their inheritance, their land. If the laird thought he would bow down to his supposed superiority, he was delusional.

  "And ye married my sister without my consent, without marriage contracts being signed. Where is the paperwork, Elizabeth?" the laird said, not sparing Elizabeth a whisp of a look, his eyes pinning Sebastian to the spot.

  Sebastian choked on his words, having not expected the Scotsman to be so cold. He met Lizzie's eyes and found them wide with alarm. "Brice, I'm not sure I appreciate yer tone. Lord Hastings is my husband. I'm Lady Hastings now. Do not be so cutting and rude."

  The laird looked at him, nonplussed, seemingly ignoring his sister’s words. "And I'm not sure if I appreciate ye marrying a rogue we dinna know much about, other than the fact he's the brother to a man I trusted less than the Jacobite army trusted King Charles II."

  "Brice," Elizabeth gasped, glaring up at her brother. She had mettle, his wife. Few would look up at such a giant of a man and chastise him. "I shall tell Sophie what a beast you're being, and then you may realize your mistake."

  The laird crossed his arms over his chest. "Ye will do no such thing. Ye know Sophie is unwell and needs rest. She's not to be troubled with this dilemma you've tangled yourself into. I shall deal with this false marriage and extradite ye from it."

  "You will not." Lizzie took a step forward, using the desk to lean on and press her point. "The marriage is consummated. There were witnesses and a reverend. There is nothing ye can do to change the course of my life. I married the man I love, and I shall remain so no matter the reason ye dislike him so much."

  "Mayhap ye would like to know, sister, where my dislike comes from." the laird said, a muscle working in his jaw.

  Dread coiled in Sebastian's stomach. This was the moment he had been dreading. If Elizabeth found out the truth as it once had stood, she would never forgive him. He would lose her.

  "Come, Elizabeth," he said, clasping her hand and trying to drag her from the room. "We shall return to England. Maybe in time, Laird Mackintosh will cool his ire and think more clearly and fairly regarding our union."

  "Unlikely," the laird said, glaring at him. The laird turned to his sister. "Come, Elizabeth, we need to speak, and alone. Ye deserve to know the truth."

  "Pardon," she said, clearly confused. "What on earth has ye like this, Brice? I dinna understand."

  The laird, instead of coming over to Sebastian, taking him by his shoulders and hoisting him back out into the hall, he walked about his desk, sitting as if he had not a care in the world. "Sit, ye will need to be off ye feet when ye hear what I have to say."

  Lizzie threw him a cautious look, and Sebastian knew she was fearful of what her brother knew, and she did not. What Sebastian had possibly kept from her that would have changed her opinion of him. Kept her from marrying him.

  The thought he could lose her in a matter of minutes sent panic to coil through his gut, and he fought not to sweat. He sat beside Lizzie, taking her hand in the hopes to calm her when she learned of his brother and her inheritance.

  The laird sighed, rubbing a hand across his jaw. "I knew the late Lord Hastings. In fact, when he was here the Season before last, I ran into him in Edinburgh
while up there on business. A game of cards was played, Lord Hastings was a terrible gambler and lost often, and yet, it dinna stop him from being a fool and thinking that was not the case."

  Lizzie squeezed his hand, throwing him a concerned glance. "I'm sorry your brother was troubled, Sebastian."

  He raised her hand, kissing it. "It has nothing to do with us, my dear. Do not concern yourself with my sibling."

  "Even so, I'm sorry."

  His heart thumped hard in his chest that she was worried for him. That she cared. Sebastian met the laird's hard gaze and prepared himself for the axe to fall across his neck.

  "The late Lord Hastings, low on funds, opted to gamble his Scottish family estate. A house that his mother had inherited not long after her marriage. The estate that I gifted ye, Elizabeth."

  Sebastian took a moment to steel himself before he could bring himself to meet Elizabeth's startled eyes. That she had taken but moments to understand what her brother was saying said a lot about her intelligence. Her eyes filled with tears and his heart crumbled in his chest. He reached for her, but she wrenched away, standing and moving over toward the desk.

  "You married me to gain back ye family estate?" She paused a moment, swallowing hard. "Is that what ye did, Sebastian?"

  He shook his head, standing. "No, I did not."

  The laird growled, literally growled. "Dinna make a fool of my sister a second time, Lord Hastings. Own the truth and shame the devil, boy."

  "I am not a boy, and you'll be best to remember that," Sebastian roared, having about enough of being treated like the worst person on the planet. "At first, I may have seen the opportunity, Lizzie, but it has since become so much more than an estate. I love you as much as you love me. I no longer care about Halligale."

  "You're a liar. Ye courted me, pursued me and no one else, and the stupid, blind fool that I was imagined it to be because ye truly wanted me. Wanted no one else but me, but all ye wanted was what I bought to the marriage."

  Sebastian held up his hands, hoping to make her understand. "I admit, I came to Scotland to try to gain Halligale back in some way. When I found out that you had been given the estate, my mind, of course, came to the conclusion that a union with you would be the easiest course. I could have simply asked to purchase it back, Lizzie, but I did not. Not because I couldn't afford the estate, but because once I got to know you, I found you were a gift that I had not thought to receive. I fell in love with you and your sweet nature. I no longer care for the estate. I want you."

  "Really," she said, her tone one of disbelief. "Then, when I sign the house back over to my brother, removing ye from gaining the estate, ye will still profess your love. Still wish to remain married to me."

  "Of course," he said, knowing that such a transaction would be impossible. She was his wife now. What was hers was his by law. "Forget what we bring to the marriage, and please remember what we're like together. How much you love me. How much I love you."

  Chapter 16

  How much she loved him? Elizabeth almost scoffed at the absurd notion. She had been played the fool, and she had been the only one who had not known it. How many other people attending the Scottish Season knew Lord Hasting was there with an ulterior motive? To marry her and gain his ancestral home back.

  What a slimly, English bastard.

  "How dare ye? I was the laughingstock of London before, and now ye have made me so a second time. I shall never live down the shame of marrying a man who tricked me into the union simply to gain his old estate back. It will not be you, an earl, who'll suffer the snide remarks and snickering giggles as ye walk past. Oh no, they will be reserved solely for me."

  "No one will say such things, Lizzie. I shall not allow it, and it is not true."

  "That is absolute horse dung, Sebastian." She paced away from him, a fury running hot through her blood. "That you say ye no longer care what happens to the estate is also a lie. You care, quite a lot, and it was why ye were so keen on an elopement so soon into our courtship. Ye did not want me to form any affections with anyone else. Ye have taken from me the ability to make a match with solid foundations. Your love is a pack of cards similar to your brother’s, which were destined to crumble."

  He ran a hand through his hair, and she could see the frustration thrumming through his body. "Yes, I did court you originally to regain the house, but it was days only before that all changed. I want you, Lizzie. And no matter what your brother says," he said, pointing to Brice, "what I feel for you is stronger than anything I've ever experienced before. I have never told a woman that I love her. And I do love you so much. I do not want to lose you."

  "And yet ye will for you are the worst of what lives beyond the Scottish border. A selfish, self-serving Englishman who dinna care for anything or anyone except himself."

  Her brother grunted his approval to his sister's words.

  "You stay out of this argument. This is not your battle." Sebastian pointed at the laird, glaring at the bastard.

  The laird stood, his chair scraping on the wooden floor. "Ye best stop talking now, Lord Hastings."

  Sebastian heard the warning in his tone, but he refused to listen, to concede. He needed Lizzie to believe him. To love him and be with him as she'd promised she would. He could not lose her now. Not for this reason, not when that reason no longer mattered to him.

  "Make me," he said, prepared to defend himself, defend his future with Lizzie.

  "Enough!" Elizabeth's voice cut between them, pulling Sebastian out of his impending thrashing with the Laird Mackintosh. "Brice, please give me a moment with Sebastian."

  Her brother glared at him one last moment before he stormed from the room, the door slamming hard behind him.

  Sebastian did not move, scared that if he did, she would bolt, and his chance of explaining, of getting her to understand, would be over. "Lizzie, please try to see the situation from my side. I did not mean to hurt you."

  "No, I suppose you did not. You did not expect me to find out. A stupid assumption considering who my brother is and his association with yours. What made you think that you would not be called out for your shady actions?"

  Before he had a chance to answer, she waved his words aside. "You never thought to not get away with it, did you? You knew my brother would make the connection, see your reasons for marrying me, and call you out on it. But if I was already married to you, the marriage consummated, well, there would be naught my brother or anyone could do to undo our union."

  When put like that, Sebastian could see he looked like a right bastard. He had pushed her quicker than he ought, needed their marriage watertight before he met her brother. What she said was true, and he could not defend himself against the charge.

  Even if he now loved her, wanted her above anything else in the world, his words would fall unheard by her, for he'd ruined what chance they had by being dishonest.

  "For what it is worth, I do love you, Lizzie. I may not have set out with honorable intentions, but for me, I have long thought of no other than you. I want our marriage to be a happy one. Please forgive me."

  She shook her head, anger all but thrumming through her. "No, I cannot. Ye are not to be trusted. You're a liar, a thief dressed in fine, superfine coats and polished hessian boots. I want nothing to do with ye." She strode over to the desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment before folding it and flicking it to the edge of the desk.

  "What is this?" he asked, picking it up.

  "Give the note to Mrs. Gardener at Halligale. She knows my signature and will believe that you're my husband. You wanted the estate back, well, now ye have it. I hope ye enjoy your pile of bricks."

  "Lizzie, the home was my mother’s. The one place that all my happy memories were made. Please do not do this."

  "Get out," she said, her voice hard and brooking no argument. "We shall remain married because I cannae change that fact, but know, from this day forward, we're no longer husband and wife. I dinna want anything to do with ye."

 
Sebastian debated going around the desk and taking her in his arms, holding her and trying to push his reasoning. But her eyes burned with hurt and anger, and he would not force himself on her. He would try again. Another day he would return and attempt to win back her affections.

  "I'm sorry," he said, striding from the room and heading straight out the front door. The carriage was unloaded, but he did not miss the fact that his trunks were still tied to the back of the equipage. The laird stood to the side, giving the driver orders, his arms crossed over his sizable chest.

  "Ye are to return to England. If I hear of ye going to Halligale, I shall have ye disposed of where no one will hear from ye again. Dinna think just because ye are my sister's husband that I'll forgive ye for tricking her into marriage so to gain her estate. Ye are never to set foot here again, or anywhere near Halligale."

  "I own the estate beside Lizzie's, and I shall return there if I wish. Not you or anyone will tell me what I can and cannot do."

  The laird's mouth curled up into a snarl. "Obviously, you do whatever ye want and dinna care for the consequences."

  Sebastian turned and climbed up into the carriage. He ignored the laird who stood in front of the home as if to keep him at bay. He scanned the windows, wishing to see Lizzie, even if for one last time. He did not know when he would see her, and the thought of never seeing her again made him want to cast up his accounts.

  No, this was not the end, not their friendship or marriage. She loved him as much as he loved her. What did it matter that he happened to fall in love with the woman who had inherited his ancestral home?

  You did not tell her the truth, and that is the problem.

  He closed his eyes a moment as the carriage lurched forward. It did not matter, and yet that was all that mattered, really. He had not been honest, and in by doing so, by setting out to first deceive, he had ruined any chance for them.

  He glanced back at the house, despair clasping his chest when he found the windows empty of her—his Lizzie.