“Thank ye, Lord Elkins. I appreciate the consideration.” Blayne raised Miss Russell’s hand to his lips for a kiss. “Attending a few events with my future wife will be an absolute pleasure.”
“Your future… Um… Mr. Wright,” Lord Elkins sputtered, his face an amusing shade of red. “I really wasn’t—”
“Papa.” Miss Russell’s voice was stern. “I believe we’ve reached an agreement.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” her father said. “In fact, there’s one more stipulation I’d like to add.”
“If you do, I’ll have no choice but to remind you that I am seven and twenty years old with every right to marry whomever I choose. The only reason we’re even having this discussion is out of respect to you and Mama, mostly so you won’t be embarrassed when Mr. Cooper arrives and learns I’m already attached. But if you push me too far, I will leave.”
“And go where?” Lord Elkins asked.
“To one of my sisters. I’m sure I can count on Melanie or Edwina to set me up until I find a place of my own. Now, if we’re done here,” she stood, so Blayne did as well, “I should like to take a turn about the garden with Mr. Wright before he leaves. Daisy will serve as chaperone.”
Before her parents could voice a protest, Miss Russell pulled Blayne out of the parlor and marched him toward the back of the house while Daisy trailed behind.
4
Mortification seared Charlotte’s skin. How could her parents be so awful? She’d always considered them pleasant and easy to get along with. Today, however, she’d been faced with two people she barely recognized.
“I’m so sorry,” she told Mr. MacNeil once they’d stepped out onto the terrace. “I never imagined they’d treat you unkindly.”
“It’s all right, lass.” He linked his arm with hers, drawing her closer to his side as they walked. The heat of his body was soothing. It allowed the tension within her to ease. “After all, it’s not like we’re really angling to get ourselves hitched, so what does their approval really matter? And can ye honestly blame them for being dismayed? As far as they know, their daughter’s decided to marry a man who doesnae ken how to use a pair of shears.”
“Because you’re apparently working undercover for the home office.” She’d had to fight not to roll her eyes when he’d started concocting that far-fetched story. “I’m not sure they bought any of that. Least of all since I’d told them you were an entrepreneur.”
“Yes. Well. I wasnae aware of that since ye failed to fill me in on the details of yer fib. I’m sorry if I mucked things up but I couldnae think of any other explanation short of telling them the truth.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t have more time to explain the situation before introducing you to them. And I am extremely grateful to you for your willingness to collaborate.” She considered that before asking, “You won’t back out now, will you?”
“I dinnae suppose I will.” He dropped a mischievous look at her. “I’m actually looking forward to watching yer parents suffer through having their daughter romanced by a Scottish brute. I reckon it’ll be amusing.”
Charlotte’s heart squeezed in response to his self-deprecation. She glanced at him, at the unruly locks falling over his jacket collar and the scruffy beard lining his jaw. A pair of warm brown eyes met hers and she almost stumbled. When he’d kissed her hand earlier, a fuzzy sensation had spread through her limbs. The same happened now, only this time her stomach had chosen to do a cartwheel as well, which was not only inconvenient but also incredibly silly.
“You’re not a brute.” Why on earth did her voice sound so faint? She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “Considering my lack of forthrightness with you from the beginning followed by all the thinly veiled insults you just received and your ability to refrain from smashing a vase before quitting my presence for good, I’d say you’re something of a saint.”
“I did consider it, ye ken. In fact, I had every intention of breaking off our arrangement this morning when I arrived.”
She’d suspected as much. “Why didn’t you then?”
He chuckled, a lovely full-bodied rumble that vibrated through her before sinking into her toes. Goodness, she liked that sound. “Because ye wouldnae listen and barely let me get a word in before yer parents were upon us. After that, I suppose I decided I’d like to get the better of them.”
“Poking the bear will eventually cause him to bite,” she muttered.
“So I’m a bear now?” he asked with a hint of amusement while they strolled toward the rose bushes.
“In a way. And just so you know, I’m very fond of bears.” She’d said the last part because she didn’t want him taking offense, only it sounded so much better in her head than it did out loud. In fact, she very much feared Mr. MacNeil might think she was flirting with him now. Which she most certainly was not.
“Hmm…” He gave her a thoughtful look. Oh God, he absolutely believed she was flirting with him. Charlotte’s heart started to race, her mind struggled for something to say. Only he beat her to it, saving her by avoiding the comment completely by saying, “We need to make a clear outline of our arrangement so we’re prepared for what’s to come. And ye have to be more open with me. No more surprises. Is that clear?”
“Of course.”
Drawing her to a halt, he turned and met her gaze with unwavering directness. “I mean it, Miss Russell. If I so much as suspect ye of trying to pull the wool over my eyes, I’ll leave ye to find yer own way out of whatever mess ye’ve created.”
Charlotte swallowed and did her best not to shrink away from the very imposing man she faced. Instead, she stiffened her spine and stared back into his dark eyes. “I understand.”
He studied her with sharp precision, as if attempting to read her mind. Eventually, he gave a swift nod. “Good.”
Charlotte’s heart thumped. She accepted his escort once more and allowed him to lead her toward a stone bench set beneath a frothy cascade of wisteria. Taking a seat, she glanced toward Daisy, who appeared to be studying the cherry tree in minute detail.
Mr. MacNeil lowered himself to the spot next to Charlotte and angled toward her in such a way that their knees bumped together.
A shock of awareness swept through her. Instinct urged her to move aside, to add some distance. And so she would have if he hadn’t leaned in and whispered against her ear. “Stay.”
One word, breezing across her skin, sinking deep until it buzzed through her veins and did funny things to her insides. She drew a sharp breath and forced herself to remain where she was, to relax her muscles and not shy away from the contact.
“Yer parents dinnae fully believe we’re in love. So if ye want to convince them, we must act the part.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture caused his fingers to scrape her cheek, which in turn produced a shiver. “Now, why dinnae ye share the details of our relationship with me so I dinnae muck this up. How did we meet, for example?”