Page 19 of Never Kiss a Scot
Ashton cleared his throat. “I know. I couldn’t get married if you weren’t there to see it, little sister.” He cupped her face and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “We both let our tempers get the best of us. I only want to see you happy, and Kincade is not the answer. Give me more time to find you a good man here in England.”
Joanna sniffed. That wave of helpless despair seemed to crash over her again, hard enough to knock her down. This time, when Ashton left, Joanna made up her mind.
He may not love me now, but Brock will grow to love me, with time. I’m sure of that.
Tomorrow, after the wedding in Hampshire, while everyone was celebrating and Ashton and Rosalind were in the midst of wedded bliss, she and Brock would race to Gretna Green.
7
Brock watched the rain droplets travel down the glass window of the coach as he and Rosalind rode toward the chapel in Hampshire. She looked resplendent in her fine gown as she laced and unlaced her fingers nervously. Brock reached over and covered her hands with one of his.
“You dinna have to do this, Rosalind. I can help you escape.”
She laughed, her eyes suddenly brightening. “I want to do this, Brock. I have no doubts about marrying Ashton. I am feeling nervous, though. What if he changes his mind? What if he does not want me?”
“If he tries to flee the church, Brodie, Aiden, and I will hunt him down.” He smiled as he said this, but he was completely serious. He’d be more than happy to drag that blond bastard down the aisle at pistol point to wed Rosalind if that’s what she wanted.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Rosalind chuckled but then grew serious. “I heard you and Ashton quarreled yesterday during the tea. What did you fight about?”
Brock slid a finger under his collar, tugging on it as it felt suddenly tight.
“Er… Well… Joanna.”
“Joanna? What did you do?” Rosalind demanded.
“I didn’t do anything.” Well, not anything worth confessing to his sister. She didn’t need those kinds of details.
“Then why were you arguing?”
“Lennox wants me to leave Joanna be. He thinks of me as a brute and that I’m unworthy of her.” Brock leaned back against the cushions of the couch, trying not to let his embarrassment show.
Rosalind’s brow furrowed. “Surely not.”
“Aye, he does.”
“Well, I shall speak to him,” she said.
“No, leave it alone,” Brock warned. “You’ve other things to think about today, like marriage to thatSassenach.”
Rosalind laughed at his scowl, but he didn’t mind. He wanted her to be happy, and he wanted her not to worry about him or Joanna.
The coach stopped in front of the little church close to Lennox House. The rain was still coming down as Brock exited the coach, borrowing an umbrella from the coach’s attendant to shield Rosalind and her pretty wedding gown. Then they entered the church together arm in arm.
The pews were filled with people Brock recognized from the tea the day before. The wedding party and their guests had all traveled the previous evening from Bath to Hampshire. Brodie and Aiden were in the front pew on the left, smiling as he and Rosalind walked toward Ashton. Brock gave his sister’s arm a gentle squeeze to reassure her that all was well. Lennox, damn his eyes, looked as pleased as a cat who’d recently fed on a bowl of cream.
Brock handed Rosalind over to Lennox and gave the man a small nod to show he was approving the marriage and then joined his brothers. Rafe, Joanna’s other brother, stood in the front pew watching the proceedings. He and Brock shared an amiable nod. Unlike Ashton, Rafe and Brock got along rather well. A reckless Englishman always got along better with a wild Scot, at least in Brock’s view.
Halfway through the ceremony, he caught sight of Joanna in the right-hand side of the pews. She wore a deep-gold gown, just like what she had described yesterday. His body hummed as his memories of those sweet stolen kisses flooded back to him. Yes, he had been “escorted” from Lennox’s house yesterday over the matter, but it had been worth it to have had a few moments alone with Joanna.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and their eyes met. Her face pinkened, accenting her delicately carved features, including the tempting curve of her mouth. Loose tendrils of pale-blonde hair teased her shoulders and neck in a careless way that made his blood hum at the thought of putting his lips to those same places.
She gave him a strange look, intense and focused, but he could not read her mind. Then she turned back to watch the rest of the ceremony, and Brock did the same.
After the wedded couple passed by the guests and climbed into their waiting coach, Brock lingered behind, sending his two brothers on ahead. Joanna was at her mother’s side, but she slowly drifted toward him, casually greeting and thanking guests as they passed by her until she and Brock were among the last few people left in the church.
“Are you all right, lass?” he asked quietly when they were reasonably alone. “I didna want to leave you yesterday, but I didna have much of a choice.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m all right.” She paused, her face turning red as she met his gaze. “I changed my mind, Lord Kincade. If the offer still stands…I would like to marry you.”
