The Highlander's Choice (Entangled Scandalous) (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Page 10

  Sybil held out her hands to both girls. “I’m pleased to meet you.” They took her hand, Catriona smiling shyly. While there wasn’t unfriendliness in their demeanor, they certainly didn’t seem enthusiastic in their greetings.

  “Mum is surprised Liam wants to marry a Sassenach.”

  Taken aback by Catriona’s statement, Sybil glanced at Liam whose lips had tightened. “Ach, and where have yer good manners walked off to, lass?”

  Catriona ducked her head, her cheeks flaming. “Pray pardon, my lady.”

  “That is all right, dear. I’m sure it would be quite a shock to your mother.” She looked up at Liam as he took her arm to escort her. “Where is Lady MacBride?”

  The girls darted a glance at each other and something shuttered in Liam’s eyes before he resumed a bland expression. “My mum will be joining us for luncheon. But now we need to get ye settled.”

  Some of her nervousness returned. It was exceedingly odd for the woman of the house to not welcome a guest. Perhaps her “surprise” at Liam’s invitation to her was more than that. Hopefully, the woman wouldn’t be outright unwelcoming.

  Her first impression of the castle’s interior was striking. The massive ceiling seemed to go on forever. Tapestries of deep blues, greens, and browns brought the outside splendor inside. A fire roared in the large dining room, which felt good, even though it was early summer. It seemed the Highlands never really warmed up.

  “My laird, yer mum asked me to see yer guest and her maid to her room since she is busy at the moment,” a pleasant looking woman came down the corridor toward them.

  “Mrs. Gilpenny, this is Lady Sybil, our guest.” Liam turned to Sybil. “Mrs. Gilpenny has been our housekeeper since I was a lad. She will take good care of ye. I need to see to some estate business and will join you for luncheon.”

  “Thank you.” Sybil felt a jolt of anxiety as she watched Liam walk away.

  “Can we go with ye to yer room, my lady?” Catriona was viewing her as if she was some sort of a bug under a glass.

  “Yes, of course. I would love to have you join me while I get settled.” She glanced at Alanna. “Would you like to come along?”

  The girl shrugged, but trailed them up the stairs.

  Sybil followed the ample hips of the housekeeper to the second landing. They continued on past numerous doors until they came to the very last portal on the left hand side. Mrs. Gilpenny took a large steel ring from her waist and fumbled until she found a key that she inserted into the lock. She swung the door open, and they all stepped back.

  It was a very small room, and it appeared it hadn’t been cleaned in quite a while. The windows on either side of the fireplace were so full of soot nothing from the outside could be seen. There was a definite smell of a dead animal, and all five women put their fingers to their noses.

  “I dinna understand,” Mrs. Gilpenny said. “I’m sure Lady MacBride said to use this room for Lady Sybil. I thought she said it was ready for ye.” She turned to Sybil. “I am so sorry, my lady. I will have the lasses up here right away to clean it fer ye.”

  “Thank you.” Trying to make the best of it, she smiled at Mrs. Gilpenny as she and the girls entered the room.

  “Milady, is this your room?” Bessie stepped into the chamber and said, “Oh.”

  “It will be cleaned up, Bessie, and all will be fine. Have the trunks brought up, if you please, and we can get started unpacking.”

  “You sure you want to unpack, milady?” Bessie asked, looking around the space.

  “Perhaps yer maid is correct and ye should wait ’til the lasses clean it up afore you unpack yer things,” Mrs. Gilpenny said.

  Catriona stepped forward. “My lady, we can go to my chamber and send for tea.”

  “Thank you so much. I think a cup of tea is a wonderful idea. And, please, call me Sybil.” Only too happy to escape the gloomy, filthy room, she followed the two girls back down the corridor as Mrs. Gilpenny hurried down the stairs, Bessie in tow, no doubt to get the maids to cleaning the room.

  …

  “I told Lady Sybil ye would be joining us for dinner, and ’tis what ye will do.” Liam faced his mother in her sitting room, as she had just advised him she would take her meal in her room.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I will not sit down with a Sassenach.”

  “If I have my way, that Sassenach will be yer daughter-in-law.”

  “Nay. I will naught allow it!” She banged her fist on the table in front of her, causing an unlit candle to topple from its holder and land on the floor.

  “’Tis no matter. Ye have no say, since I am yer laird and the decision is mine.” Ach, the woman was stubborn. How would he ever convince Sybil he would make her a fine husband if his mum acted like a spoiled bairn? He’d kenned for years that she was not fond of the English, but he had no idea her dislike ran so deep.

  “If ye would only get to ken the lass, ye will see for yerself that she’s naught like other English lasses.”

  “Princesses! All of them. Sitting around on their arses, waiting for everyone to do for them. I spent time in London as a lass, working for a seamstress. They were the meanest women on God’s earth. Always blathering about their clothes, and their beaus, and how much coin their families had.” She shifted her glance from him, and said in a softer voice. “And they hated the Scots. Thought we were all barbarians. Treated me like…”

  Liam hid his surprise at her words. This was something he’d never heard before. He’d always thought her dislike of the Sassenach was a result of the way her family had been treated during the Clearances. Her clan had been driven from their land to scratch out an existence as best they could. She’d often told them if his da hadn’t married her when he had, she would have had to leave her beloved Scotland to move to America with the rest of her family.

  “’Tis sorry I am for what happened to ye, mum.”

  She waved her hand impatiently. “’Twas a long time ago. But if yer guest came from London, she’ll be whinin’ and complainin’ and demandin’ from the day ye are foolish enough to marry her.”

  “Sybil is not like that. Ye must give her a chance.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “I’m asking ye to please set aside yer feelings and join us for dinner.”

  After a few moments of silence, she took a deep breath. “Aye.”

  “Thank ye.” He moved to her and kissed the top of her head.

  “Here ye are. I thought ye already headed back home.” Liam grinned as he entered the sitting room between his sisters’ bedchambers.

  “We were having tea and a chat,” Catriona said. “Sybil has been telling us all about London and the Season.”

  “Nay, lass. Ye should be addressing our guest as Lady Sybil.”

  Sybil shook her head. “No. I asked them both to call me Sybil. Lady Sybil seems much too formal.”

  By the look on Catriona’s face, Sybil had already won over his youngest sister. She gazed at the lass with wonder, as if Sybil was a princess. Ach, he’d better get that notion out of his sister’s head or his mum would be nodding her head and proving her point.

  Alanna seemed a bit more reserved, but it was plain she didn’t hold the animosity he’d seen in Mum.

  He plopped into the sturdiest looking chair in the room and stretched out his long limbs. “Dinna be getting ideas in yer head about a Season, lass. ’Tis not the way of things at Bedlay.”

  “Nay. Sybil said after the first year ye grow tired of the constant round of balls and that finding someone to love is more important than all the parties.”

  There was that word again. Was missing the lass as much as he had the day or so they were apart a sign that his heart was engaged? Aye. ’Twas possible. Every time he glanced in Sybil’s direction to see her sitting here in his home, next to his sisters, looking like she belonged, his heart warmed with more than the lust his body had been dealing with for the past few weeks.

  Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind, he sat up, slapped hi
s thighs and said, “’Tis almost time for dinner. And our cook, Mrs. MacDougal, daesna like to be kept waiting.”

  The three women stood and shook out their skirts. Liam offered his arm to Sybil and they left the room and descended the stairs.

  The chattering of the clansmen came to a halt as they entered the large dining room. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed the group as they headed to the main table where Liam was pleased to see his mum already sat. He walked Sybil over to her. “Lady Sybil, this is my mum, Lady MacBride.”

  Sybil smiled brightly and gave a small curtsy. “My lady, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for opening your home to me.”

  Mum’s eyebrows rose, but she never gave a hint of a smile. “Aye. ’Twas what my laird wanted.”

  Sybil frowned, looking confused for a moment. Liam cast his mum a reproachful glance as his two sisters giggled. He helped Sybil into her seat and darted a glance at the girls. By the saints. Hopefully the meal would not turn into a brawl.

  “Ye can all return to yer meal,” Liam said addressing the clansmen who watched their entrance with curiosity. “Lady Sybil is my guest, and ye will all get a chance to speak with her.” After that announcement to the crowd, conversation resumed, but more subdued than when they’d entered. More than a few people darted glances at Sybil, and he caught the word Sassenach several times.

  “You have a lovely home here, my lady.” Sybil shook her napkin out and placed it on her lap.

  “’Tis ancient. And cold. The wind whistles through these walls, making ye feel as though yer limbs have frozen.”

  “Mum, ye ken we added wood to the stone walls in most of the rooms to keep out the cold.” He spoke to Sybil. “As ye probably noticed when ye entered, we also divided up the great hall, making a drawing room, morning room, library, and this dining room. Makes it easier to keep it heated.”

  “That is very nice. I imagine a lot of these older castles could do with some modern improvements.”

  “Ach, ye won’t be finding modern improvements here, lass.” His mum stabbed a piece of meat on her plate as if the animal still needed killing. Faith, the woman was trying his patience. She might have come to the table, but she was certainly not ready to treat Sybil as a proper hostess would.

  “We are slowly improving things. Dividing the rooms up and insulating the stone walls with wood was the first part. I also plan to add a separate room for bathing.” Liam glared at his mum, daring her to dispute him. She shrugged her shoulders and continued to eat.

  “Do ye have sisters and brothers?” Alanna asked.

  “Yes, I certainly do. My brother is the Duke of Manchester—”

  His mum snorted, but acted as if she hadn’t.

  “—and I have four sisters. My twin sister, Sarah, then there’s Marion and Abigail who are both married, and my youngest sister, Mary.”

  “You are a twin?” Catriona looked at her as if she just announced her plans to climb to the battlements and jump off.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “That sounds like so much fun. Is it fun?”

  Sybil frowned. “Sometimes it can be fun, sometimes it is not. I mean, I love my sister dearly, and cannot imagine not having her in my life, but there are times it is nice to be just myself, and not one of a pair.”

  “Saints! Two of ye?” mum mumbled, but loud enough to be heard. Maggie MacBride, seated at the nearest table, chuckled, then ducked her head when Liam sent her a piercing glance.

  “Does Sarah look like ye?” Alanna wanted to know.

  “Exactly,” she laughed. “We are identical twins. Unless we wear different clothing or hairstyles, even my mother has a hard time telling us apart.”

  “Did you ever play a trick on someone?” Catriona’s expression had Liam believing his youngest sister was wishing for a twin of her own.

  “Um, actually, we did.”

  “What?”

  “Well when we were about thirteen years, my sister, Sarah, was enamored of a young man and wanted very much to know how he felt about her. When she met him in the village bookstore one day, she pretended to be me so she could ask him what he thought of Sarah—er, her, actually.”

  “And what did he say?” Alanna seemed as curious as her sister.

  “He told her Sarah was a lovely little girl and would be a fine woman one day when she grew up.” Sybil grinned. “Sarah was crushed.”

  “Sneaky Sassenach,” his mum uttered, this time low enough that, thankfully, only he heard her.

  After dinner, the family and Sybil retired to the drawing room where Catriona continued to plague the lass with questions. Eventually, Sybil gave him a look that could only mean she was fatigued and ready to retire, but dinna want to be rude.

  “Lass, it appears ye are a tad worn out, and I’m sure my sister’s blathering hasn’t helped.” He stood and extended his arm. “Allow me to escort you to yer bedchamber.”

  The relief on her face had him feeling guilty for not suggesting it earlier. “Yes, please.” She addressed Catriona, Alanna, and his mum. “Good night. This has been very pleasant.”

  His mum snorted and kept her head down as she worked on her sewing.

  Once they arrived at her door, he spun her around so her back rested against the portal and leaned his forearms on the frame above her head. “Ach, lass, I thought I’d never get ye alone.”

  She gave him one of her slight smiles, her lips parting as if waiting for his kiss, wet and plump, and his for the taking. He cupped her cheeks and brought his mouth to hers. His kiss was slow and thoughtful, exploring the nectar of her lips. When she gave a slight moan and slid her hands around his waist to stroke the muscles of his back he lost the control he’d been hanging onto for two days.

  He nudged her lips open and swept in like a wave on the ocean. He explored the soft, sensitive parts of her mouth, the taste of her spurring him to smother her lips with demanding mastery. She pressed her body against his, and his cock leapt to life. He raised his mouth from hers and kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.

  Sybil’s breaths came in pants, her breasts heaving, the turgid nipples nudging him through her gown against his shirt. He pulled away, matching her breath for breath. “If we dinna stop now, ’twill be impossible for me to let ye go.”

  She looked up at him with glazed, half shuttered eyes. He groaned and took her in another possessive kiss, sliding his hands up her ribs, brushing her nipples lightly with his thumbs.

  The sound of footsteps pierced the fog of desire raging through him. He pulled back and unlatched her door, easing her body through. “Good night, darlin’.” He gave her a brief kiss on her forehead and closed the door.

  Turning, he saw Bessie approaching, garments folded over her arm. “Is my lady retiring for the evening, laird?”

  “Yes. I believe she needs your services.”

  “Good night.”

  “Tae ye as well, Bessie.”

  Adjusting his breeches to accommodate the swelling, he strode down the hallway to his bedchamber. ’Twould be some time before he’d get to sleep this eve.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sybil rolled over once again and groaned at the pain in her back. The sun was up, and cracks in the old shutters on the window allowed enough light to fill the room so that she could see the space. Someone had, indeed, come up and cleaned the room yesterday, though the smell hadn’t quite left yet, so despite the cold, she’d left a window open while she’d slept.

  They must have given her a mattress stuffed with straw. It was stiff, hard, and crinkled every time she moved. The thin blanket added to her muscle pain since she’d had to stay curled up all night to create warmth.

  She eased her sore body up and glanced longingly at the cold fireplace. Apparently, no maid was going to arrive to start a fire. She climbed out of bed, biting her lips against the pain in her body and the cold floor on her bare feet. When she’d stayed with Margaret at Dundas, she’d never noticed the cold in the morning. Yet it was further into summer now
than it had been a few weeks ago when she’d arrived.

  Bessie entered the room. “Oh my goodness, my lady. Has no fire been started?”

  “No. I’m beginning to have suspicions about what is going on, but for now I will keep it to myself.” Liam’s mum was anything but welcoming. Some of her remarks last night hadn’t made it to her ears, but she had guessed, from Liam’s expression, that they were not flattering. The ones she had heard had both amused and annoyed her. It was obvious the “shock” Catriona said her mother felt at Liam inviting a Sassenach to his home was a bit stronger than mere dismay.

  “Bessie, please go to the kitchen and fix some chocolate for me. That should warm me up. And while you are there, please see about having someone lay a fire for us.”

  “Yes, milady.”

  Since the room had no armoire, Sybil’s clothes remained in the trunk she’d brought with her. She dug through the trunk until she found a thick robe and wrapped herself in it. She hurried to the window and opened it wider, hoping the sun might help warm the room.

  As she turned from the window, the streaming sunlight showed only a cursory cleaning had been done. The floor had been swept of animal droppings, and water had been placed in the pitcher, but barely enough to wash her hands and face. She moved to the bed and pulled up the sheet. Yes—straw.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was obvious Lady MacBride had no liking for her, most likely because she was English. Liam’s sisters, while reserved at first, had soon warmed up, and she had felt comfortable with them by the end of the night. And the kiss she’d shared with Liam in front of her door should have kept her warm all night.

  For now she would keep her thoughts to herself. Lady MacBride was a schemer, but she’d picked the wrong person to cross swords with. Sybil was no English princess, and scrapping with her sisters and brother over the years had hardened her. Despite being a duke’s household, their childhood had been anything but pampered.