Page 81 of Foolish Bride
“What is your name?”
“Brianne, miss.”
“That is a lovely name. Brianne, my name is Elinor Burkenstock. My father is an earl in England. I assume that I am in Scotland now?”
Brianna picked up an old tattered gown from a bin and brushed it out. “Yes, you are in the lowlands at Kerburghe Castle.”
“The man who brought me here?”
“The duke?”
“He is no duke. He is only pretending to be the Duke of Kerburghe. The real duke will show up at any moment and rescue me from him.” She wasn’t even sure Michael would be able to find her. Poor Everett had surely been shot and would need attention. She prayed for Everett and for herself.
Brianne pulled a needle and thread from the box on the window seat and threaded the eye. “His grace explained that you might say such a thing. He is generous to have taken you for a wife in spite of your infirmity.
“My infirmity! What infirmity would that be?”
Brianne’s skin pinked and she wouldn’t meet Elinor’s gaze. “He told us that you were touched in the head.”
Elinor held her temper. Obviously, Roxton had told lies to keep her a prisoner. She changed tactics. “What do you think of his grace?”
Tasting lemons would have produced a sweeter expression. She pulled the fabric together and sewed a hole in the dress. “His grace is a fine lord.”
“Chases the maids about the castle, does he?” Elinor asked.
Brianne looked away and smoothed the gown.
“I hope you are a fast runner, Brianne.” Elinor walked to the window.
“I am quite fast, miss. I also know my way about the castle a far cry better than his grace. I’ve had to lose him more than once.” Her smile faded. “I am sorry, miss. I am always shooting my mouth off that way. Mother often tells me to keep my thoughts to myself. I am sure your betrothed is a fine man.”
Though she tried not to, Elinor laughed. “Brianne, I am going to tell you the truth, but you’d best keep it to yourself. No one is going to believe me, anyway.”
“I’ll believe you, miss.”
“I am not crazy. I am engaged to the Duke of Kerburghe, but that man, Roxton, is not him. Michael Rollins is tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes, and he was elevated to the rank of duke not two months ago. This man is an imposter, and I really could not tell you why he is doing all of this. I was taken here against my will and would be grateful if you would help me avoid Roxton until Michael arrives to save me.”
Brianne smiled, but her eyes remained sad. Returning her attention to the now-mended gown, she gave it a shake. “It’s just wedding jitters. The Father will come and marry you soon. You will see that everything will be fine.”
“I have no intention of marrying that pig of a man.”
Brianne gathered more bolts of ancient clothes out of a trunk and shook each one out.
“What is that?” Elinor waved the dust from her face. Motes swirled in the light from the window.
“Why, ‘tis your wedding clothes, miss. They belonged to the last duchess, but that was years ago. She died in childbirth with the babe. That’s why the title went to the current duke, who’s only a distant relation.”
Hoping to make sense of the situation, Elinor absorbed Brianne’s report. “Is there a shortage of women in Scotland?”
“No.” Her freckled nose scrunched up. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered why Roxton would steal an unwilling woman from England when there are ample women here at Kerburghe.”
“He must be in love with you.” Brianne cocked her head and gazed dreamily out the window.
It would be a miracle if the food stayed down, the way Elinor’s stomach churned at the idea of Roxton. “I had never met him before yesterday when he snatched me away from a house party, so that seems unlikely.”
Shrugging, she brushed dust and dirt from the wedding gown.
