Page 21 of Never Kiss a Scot
When they reached Lennox’s manor home, he watched Joanna rush up the stairs. She chanced a look back at him, smiling. It hit him in the stomach, sending a blast of butterflies up in its wake. What a beauty she was. And soon she would be his.
He went in search of his brothers, finding them in the billiard room with some of Ashton’s companions.
“Kincade, there you are,” Lonsdale said, his grin accompanied by an all-knowing smirk.
“Here I am,” he echoed, smiling back at Lonsdale but not betraying anything to the English earl.
Brodie and Aiden met his gaze, and he flicked his eyes to the fireplace. They picked up on his silent message and continued to play their game of billiards while he poured himself a glass of whiskey and waited by the fire. Aiden came first, pretending to want a glass himself. They sipped quietly for a time before Brock spoke up.
“I’m leaving tonight and taking Joanna with me. You and Brodie must stay here. I’ll tell Brodie to tell anyone who asks that I’ve come down with a cold and am staying in bed.”
Aiden’s eyes widened at Brock’s whispered plans, but he only gave a tiny nod to show he understood. Aiden calmly walked over to the window, and a few minutes later Brodie joined Brock and was given the same instructions.
“That’s quite a risk, brother,” Brodie said. “Is the lass worth it? We both know Lennox would shoot you if he had half a chance.”
“Aye, that he would, but ’tis only fair. He married our sister. I shall marry his.”
Brodie chuckled. “I dinna think the English see it that way.”
“Probably not. They’re not as civilized as we are.”
“You truly like the lass?” Brodie pressed. “We’ve barely seen her since we arrived.”
“I’ve seen her plenty,” Brock assured him. “She’s perfect.” Perfect in every way a man could ever hope for a woman to be. She was intelligent, amusing, tender, yet fierce and lovely. He cleared his throat, not wanting Brodie to see his weakness, and he added, “She has money, too. Money that’s not simply a dowry—she has her own money in trust.”
His brother narrowed his eyes. “Not thinking to marry her because of her money, are you?”
“No, I wanther. But having a wealthy wife would be a good thing.”
“Hmm.” Brodie sipped his drink rather than argue.
Brock stayed in the billiard room, making small talk with the men until dinner, and then he made his excuses, saying he felt unwell.
Joanna would attend dinner, while he saw that her clothes and her belongings were taken to the stables. It was important that she be seen with the guests while he was absent. It would strengthen their story and also keep at bay any suspicions off them running off together. If they were both missing from dinner, Lennox would notice and possibly guess their plan. But if he went to his marriage bed without any suspicions, being newly wed would certainly keep him occupied. It galled Brock to think of his sister sharing Lennox’s bed, but he was relieved to have the man distracted.
As he left the billiard room, he went upstairs to find Joanna’s room and take the bags if she had them ready. They were in for a long, cold, and rainy night.
8
Joanna stared at the bag on her bed. The leather had been oiled by one of the footmen so as to prevent rain from soaking into it and damaging any of the bag’s contents.
“Will it do, miss?” her maid asked. Julia had talked discreetly to one of the footmen she knew, asking him for a bag that would travel well during poor weather. The young man had smartly insisted on preparing the bag for any rain, and Joanna had been incredibly grateful.
“I think so.” Joanna’s heart gave a nervous flip as she opened the bag’s mouth wider so she could review the contents again. Three days’ worth of dresses with ankle-length skirts to avoid mud and dust from the road, and one riding habit, which she’d wear tonight along with her best cloak. Even though it was a warm summer, rain could make anyone cold. Two pairs of sensible boots, one pair of black slippers, three fresh pairs of stockings, and two pairs of chemises and petticoats. She could survive with one set of stays until they reached Scotland and buy new ones once they were married. She also packed her pearl gilt hairbrush and comb, several ribbons, hair pins, and one book,Lady Jade’s Wild Lord. It seemed fitting to take that book, the one that had led to such a wild and unexpected kiss in the library between her and Brock a month ago. She would finally have her own wild lord.
“Oh, miss, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Julia whispered.
Joanna smiled at the use of the wordwe. When she’d first confessed her plan to go to Gretna Green, she’d expected her young maid to try to stop her or disagree. Julia was only four years older than Joanna, after all. But Julia had all but swooned as she listened to Joanna’s plan.
“I believe it’s time for me to make my own fortunes, Julia. Ashton’s had no luck finding me a husband, and I am tired of waiting for my future to come to me.”
Julia grinned. “And you could not have chosen a more fitting man for a husband, if you don’t mind me saying so. Such a handsome man.”
Joanna agreed. Brock was indeed one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. But perhaps what she loved most was the air of wildness about him, as though he were a warrior of old, one of those grand men who had fought for his way of life at Culloden.
Joanna’s heart ached at the thought. She was sympathetic to the plight of the Scots—the family did have some Scottish blood in it, after all. How could she not feel pride and sorrow knowing that they had fought so valiantly? Brock made her think of those stories, of the men and women who’d bravely stood up for their way of life, their freedom. Just as she was doing.
She didn’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage to some country gentlemen her brother would have had to bribe into marriage. No, if she was going to be faced with being unloved, she would at least choose the man she married herself. And she hoped that with Brock she stood a chance of winning his love over time. At least in Scotland she would be free. She would be mistress of a castle and wife to a lord. She wouldn’t have to endure the slights of London society or the merciless torture of endless balls where no one would dance with her.
