Kimberly and Lachlan weren’t included in the exodus. They would in fact be married in the Sherring Cross chapel, a small service with just family and Their Graces attending. The duke had already obtained a special license for them, so they wouldn’t have to wait the requisite three weeks for the posting of the banns. Actually, the only thing they were waiting on was Kimberly’s father’s arrival.
Devlin had already written to the Earl of Amburough, or so Kimberly had been informed. She didn’t ask if he’d gone into detail about her shameful behavior. Likely not, as such things weren’t suitable for letters. And besides, a simple “Your daughter will be married as soon as you arrive,” would bring Cecil Richards posthaste. If the duke had been even more exact with something like, “Your daughter will be marrying the Lord of Clan MacGregor,” there’d be even quicker results.
Actually, Lachlan’s name probably had been mentioned, so it was pretty much guaranteed that her father wouldn’t be showing up just to give the bride away. Exactly the opposite. All hell would be breaking loose instead, and if she knew her father the Earl of Amburough would not care who might be present to witness the unleashing of his temper.
As it happened, when he did arrive, it was late in the evening, so everyone was still gathered together. Having just finished dinner, they had all adjourned to the parlor for some quiet amusements, now that all the guests were gone and continuous entertainments were no longer necessary.
Lachlan and Margaret were in one corner of the room finishing a chess game. Megan was directing several servants placing unlit candles high on the Christmas tree that had been brought in that morning.
Kimberly was helping Duchy remove some carved wooden angels from their little velvet storage pouches, still more decorations for the tree. Devlin was merely watching the proceedings from his favorite spot by the mantel and volunteering a suggestion now and then about the candle placements while he sipped at his after-dinner brandy.
And then there was that ill-tempered voice that Kimberly knew so well, demanding from the doorway, “What in the bloody hell is a Scotsman doing at Sherring Cross, and fighting over m’daughter?”
“Good to see you again, too, Cecil,” Devlin remarked dryly. “I assume you got my letter?”
“What letter? I came here because Kimberly’s name has been linked with a Scotsman. I don’t mind telling you how appalled I was. Who is this damned Scotsman, and what’s he even doing here?”
“The ‘damned’ Scotsman is related to me,” Devlin replied, his own tone indicating he didn’t care for Cecil’s one little bit.
“Good God, related?” Cecil exclaimed, as if he couldn’t imagine anything more horrible. “How is it I never heard of this?”
“Possibly because my relations are no one’s bloody business but my own,” Devlin answered tightly. “And I would suggest we continue this discussion in my study, before my wife, who has a Scot or two in her own ancestry, has you evicted for your insulting rudeness.”
At that point the earl did some blushing, never having had it pointed out so blatantly that he was making an ass of himself. Kimberly wasn’t the least bit embarrassed for him, she was too used to his acerbity. She did regret that these nice people had to be subjected to his ill-humored ways.
Cecil looked for and assumed he’d found the duchess—he had—who was in fact frowning at him, “I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I sometimes forget myself when I’m upset, and this has upset me mightily.”
“That’s understandable,” Megan allowed graciously. “Although it was a minor scandal that we have all forgot about—due to other things.”
“Come along then, Cecil,” Devlin said, quickly crossing the room to lead him to his study before he could ask what other things.
Cecil nodded, but he caught sight of Kimberly before he turned, and with a scowl, he ordered her, “You will join us, gel, since you have some explaining to do.”
He didn’t wait for her compliance, didn’t expect her to disobey. She thought about it though, she really did. His tirades could be emotionally exhausting, even when she did no more than just sit and listen. And this tirade was likely to be the worst she’d ever heard. But there really was no avoiding it. He was here. He didn’t know yet that she was going to marry the Highlander, but he would very shortly, and—she might as well get it over with.
She stood up, but paused to glance over at Lachlan, whose expression was curiously inscrutable. “You might want to come along,” she suggested. “I warned you that he wouldn’t be happy about—” She hesitated, realizing this was not a subject to mention before others. So she hoped he would recall what she’d told him he wouldn’t be happy about, and finished with, “You’re about to find out why.”
Kimberly didn’t wait to see if he would follow. It wasn’t necessary for him to be present during this “baring of the sinful circumstances,” so it made no difference to her. It would merely save her having to relate the entire tale to him later. The earl was very predictable, after all.
Devlin was sitting behind his desk when she reached the study. There were a number of chairs about the room. She took one against the wall, out of the way, though she couldn’t hope to remain unnoticed for very long. Her father was apparently going to remain standing. She knew he would prefer to, so used to that authoritative seat behind the desk himself, and this not being his study.
“You haven’t seen your daughter for more than a month,” Devlin was saying. “Would you like a few minutes alone with her to—”
“What for?”
Eloquently put, and very indicative of Cecil’s feelings for his only daughter. Kimberly almost smiled at Devlin’s surprise. She supposed some people might find the earl’s sentiments unnatural. She found them perfectly normal—for him. At least they were what she was used to. If he’d ever been anything other than curt or surly with her, she didn’t remember it. So anything on a warmer side, she would find unnatural—for him.
“Very well then,” Devlin said. “Since you left before my letter reached you, I will tell you the gist of it now and we can discuss—”
“You needn’t bother, Your Grace. I told you, I’d already heard the entire story. That’s why I’m here, to find out how such a sorry affair could have come about.”
“I presume you’re speaking of that morning the Highlander attacked Viscount Canston because of your daughter?” the duke questioned.
“Yes.”
“And that’s the only tale you heard?”
“Yes.” Cecil frowned now. “Why?”
“Because we’re talking about two different things here. I made no mention of that incident in my letter to you. It was a minor occurrence that didn’t hold anyone’s interest for more than a day or two.”
“Then what were you writing me about?”
“I wrote to let you know that Kimberly has accepted a proposal of marriage—”
“To Viscount Canston?” Cecil interrupted, and his whole demeanor improved with that thought. “Excellent! I knew his father quite well when he—”
“The viscount turned out to be a thief and a liar,” Devlin cut back in coldly. “And we shall not mention that blackguard again, thank you.”
“Now see here, St. James, that’s a rather harsh accusation to be making about a member of the Canston family,” Cecil said in his disappointment.
“But no less true, and proven, I might add.”
“Then who is it wants the gel?”
Cecil’s tone implied he hadn’t thought anyone would want Kimberly, which was probably why Devlin gallantly mentioned, “She was very popular among our guests, and other offers would have been forthcoming, I’ve no doubt. But she has agreed to marry the MacGregor of Clan MacGregor, and in my letter, I informed you that I am in complete support of her decision.”
“The hell you say!” Cecil shouted, too shocked to say more at the moment.
Devlin raised a black brow sardonically. “Was I not clear enough?”
“Clear enough? Clear enough!” Ceci
l was so livid with fury now, he could barely think. “The hell she will! Is this a joke?”
“Would I risk a reaction such as yours for a joke, Cecil? I don’t think so.”
Cecil came to his senses a bit, enough to say, “She knows better than to associate with Scotsmen, let alone even think of marrying one. This must be a joke, and I bloody well don’t appreciate it.”
Devlin sighed at that point and glanced at Kimberly. “I’m sorry, I had hoped to avoid the whys and wherefores, but your father isn’t cooperating.”
“That’s quite all right, Your Grace,” she said, even managing a weak smile. “Thank you for trying to spare us, but the sordid details will have to come to light for him to understand there is no choice involved here.”
“Sordid details?” Cecil was glaring at her now. “What have you done, gel?”
“Nothing unusual, just highly scandalous,” Kimberly told her father. “Lachlan MacGregor was discovered in my bed, you see. Unfortunately, I happened to be in it with him at the time.”
Cecil got so red in the face, he was in danger of bursting a blood vessel. “Slut!” he roared.
He took the several steps that brought him in front of her. She cringed and closed her eyes, because his hand was already raised. He was about to smack her senseless, was angry enough for some serious damage.
But a new voice was heard from in a soft, though ominous tone. “Lay even one finger on her, and I promise you will regret it.”
Kimberly glanced toward the doorway. So Lachlan had followed her after all—fortunately for her. Devlin had stood up, would have come to her aid, but she would have had a few bruises before he reached her.
Her father had turned toward the door as well. That Lachlan filled the area with his immense size might have been one reason the much shorter earl was momentarily disconcerted. But it was more likely because Lachlan’s menacing tone was nothing compared to how truly enraged he looked.
Cecil had been startled, but he was too angry to remain silent for more than a few moments. However, his new tone wasn’t nearly as belligerent, proving he’d definitely been intimidated and still was. Kimberly was utterly amazed.
“So you’re the MacGregor?” Cecil sneered.
“I am that, but more tae the point, I’m the mon who will be marrying the lass here. That makes her mine tae protect, no matter what she is tae you.”
“She is my daughter—”
“More’s the pity, I’m thinking.”
“—and she won’t be marrying any Scot bastard, clan lord or not.”
“Shall we refrain from insults, if you please,” Devlin tried to interject, but neither man was paying him any mind at this point.
“Were you no’ listening, mon?” Lachlan said to Cecil. “’Tis no secret that I bedded her. All and sundry know of it by now. So there’s no choice. She must marry me, or suffer the consequences—”
“Exactly,” Cecil shot back. “She courted the consequences, she can bloody well live with them. And she can count herself lucky if I can find a penniless lord who will overlook her tattered reputation and take her off my hands for the dower that comes with her.”
“You’d do that tae her, when my marrying her would end the scandal?” Lachlan asked incredulously.
Cecil snorted. “The gel did it to herself. She knew she’d never have my permission to marry a damned Scot. If she can never hold her head up again because of it, that’s no one’s fault but her own.”
“What say you, Kimber?”
“I—” she began.
But her father cut her off. “She has no say. And she won’t cross me on this,” he added confidently. “She knows I’d disown her if she does, and that would be a scandal she couldn’t live down.”
“For yourself as well, I’m thinking,” Lachlan said in disgust. “Are you that much of a fool, mon?”
Cecil went red in the face again. “The only fool here is you, Highlander. And you’ve no further business here, so I’ll thank you to leave.”
“Don’t be kicking people out of my study, Richards,” Devlin said coldly. “I reserve that right.”
But Lachlan had already turned about with a muttered low curse and stalked off. And staring at that empty doorway, Kimberly felt the most devastating disappointment.
It wasn’t quite what she’d expected. Actually, it wasn’t what she’d expected at all. She’d warned Lachlan that he wouldn’t be happy marrying her, true, but she had taken it for granted that he would do the right thing after all was said and done, and marry her anyway.
He’d put up a good showing, of course. And he obviously found her father and his harsh sentiments despicable. But it came down to the simple fact that Lachlan couldn’t afford a penniless wife, when his own dire circumstances demanded a rich one. Disowned meant no dower, and in his mind, he needed that dower.
38
Kimberly was still exhausted when she came downstairs to breakfast the next morning. Funny, that she’d never had a problem with sleeping before she met Lachlan MacGregor, but now…actually, it wasn’t funny at all. And last night, there hadn’t been any noise to keep her awake. Instead, she’d gone to bed with a lump in her throat that just wouldn’t go away, and it refused to let her have any peace.
She could put aside her common sense and tell Lachlan that her father’s money didn’t matter, that she was as rich, if not richer, with more money than he could ever need. He’d marry her then, and there’d be no doubt that it was because of the money, not because he wanted her. Of course, she’d already known that. But having it proved beyond a doubt would hurt. But would it be any more than she was already hurting?
The prospect of her father having to buy a husband for her, some man she’d never even met, was what was tearing her up inside, not that Lachlan didn’t really want to marry her. And seen that way, wherein was the difference? If she bought Lachlan instead, by telling him about her own money, at least she knew what she was getting. And there was the lovemaking. With him, it was very nice, too nice maybe. But with someone else…she shuddered to even think of it.
She could tell him the truth and leave it up to him. If he’d been just waiting for an excuse to get out of the marriage, however, then it would make no difference. He’d use the new scandal instead, of her father disowning her. Or he’d still marry her…
She decided to tell him. And her opportunity arrived sooner than anticipated. Lachlan was in the hall outside the breakfast room when she approached, and he came toward her to take her arm and steer her toward the parlor instead, which was empty that time of the morning.
She waited to find out what was on his mind first. He told her the moment he closed the doors behind them.
“It occurred to me, Kimber, that you’re of an age tae no’ be needing your da’s permission tae marry.”
“That’s true enough,” she replied carefully. “But he wasn’t joking, Lachlan, in what he said last night. He really will disown me if I marry without his approval.”
“I didna doubt that. ’Twas what I found incredible and utterly despicable, that a father could be that cruel tae his own blood.”
She shrugged, very used to that reaction in people who had to deal with her father, but had never done so before. “Perhaps it might help if you understand why he hates all Scotsmen,” she remarked and gave him a brief accounting. But when she finished, she conceded, “On second thought, it doesn’t help to know, does it? His prejudice is and always has been of an unreasonable nature.”
“’Tis no’ important why he is how he is,” he replied. “Unless there is the chance of him changing. He didna seem like a man capable o’ changing his ways tae me, but I dinna know him as you do.”
She sighed. “I know it’s possible to change bad habits, but with him, it’s a bit more than that, I’m afraid. Even the fact that he’s met someone new since my mother died, that he wants to marry, and he’s very eager to marry her, hasn’t changed his attitude. It’s not just his prejudice, you see. That has only to do with
Scots. It’s the way he is normally, a harsh, autocratic man, and I don’t think he’s ever been any other way. So no, I wouldn’t ever expect him to change.”
“As I thought. Then I need tae ask if you’ll defy him and marry me wi’out his blessing? I should’ve asked you last night, but I was tae angry and shocked, and only thinking o’ wringing his blasted neck.”
Kimberly had gone very still before he finished. “Do you realize what that would mean?”
“Aye, it’d mean you’d be cut off from your da for good, likely ne’er tae see him again. Can you live wi’ that, darlin’, or would you always be regretting—”
“Lachlan, I could not care less if I ever see the Earl of Amburough again. He’s never been a father to me, as fathers should be. He’s merely been the tyrant who lived in the same house as I did. But do you realize what my being disowned by him would mean to you? Aside from the scandal—”
“The MacGregors are no’ strangers tae scandal.” He grinned.
“—there would be no dower forthcoming.”
“I didna think so.”
She blinked. “You’d marry me without it?”
“Damned right I will.”
He was being gallant. She could think of no other reason. What else could he say, after all, without appearing the complete cad?
“But as I understand it, you need the money,” she reminded him. “Have you forgotten about that? Or has that situation changed suddenly?”
“Nay, we’re cash poor, you ken, and debt ridden as well,” he told her. “You’ve a right tae know that now. When my da died a few years ago, my stepmother disappeared with a trunk full o’ money—he didna like banks, you see—as well as all the MacGregor jewels, neither of which she had any right tae take, and she’s ne’er been found. So we’ve still land aplenty, but no assets tae speak of on any of it.”