Page 47 of The Nabob's Designing Daughter
“I rather like the idea of being a baron,” he teased.
“A doctor baron,” she said.
“With a wife making potions in the still room.”
He gave her a long look. They’d marry this very day over the anvil, or in this case in the great hall at Mounth Tower. Busby and the servants could witness. But first…
“Let me just check that Rolly’s leg is mending.” He touched his lips to hers and stepped around her.
The lad’s forehead was cool. The wound on his leg was healing nicely. The break—time would tell how well he’d set it. “You’ll stay off this leg a while longer, you hear,” Errol said. “Let the bone heal.”
Rolly wrinkled his nose, but Maggie grabbed his hand and kissed it. “Thankee, laird. Ye saved us.”
Embarrassed, he mumbled his farewell and led Ann out.
A light powdery snow was falling, and the gig crawled down the rocky lane to Mounth Tower. Errol needed all his attention to keep from veering off into a ditch.
Ann was unaccountably quiet.
“Having those second thoughts?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m only wondering if you’ve forgiven me for helping you with the school fees.”
Help from a woman—his wife. What would people say? He decided he didn’t care. “I must have.”
The gig tipped and righted itself, and he concentrated on the road for the rest of the journey.
Ann sentup a silent thanks when they pulled up to the door at Mounth Tower. Will and a wizened groom ran out and led the horse and gig off, and Errol escorted Ann to the front step and the open front door.
On her only visit to Mounth Tower, this was as far as she’d made it. The butler—the same elderly man who’d sent her away—stood at attention. Lined up behind him were two footmen, two housemaids, and a scarecrow of a woman who must be the housekeeper. None of them were younger than sixty.
Howdidthey manage the heavy work?
Busby pushed to the front. “Baron, I’ve seen to that other matter. May I introduce your house staff? Please come in out of the cold.”
Ann held back. This was Errol’s grand homecoming, not hers. Not yet. Or so she thought.
Her feet left the ground and she found herself in his arms, clutching his shoulder, and laughing as he set her feet down on the slate tiles. “You must meet your new baroness also, the former Miss Strachney.”
“We’re not married yet,” she whispered.
“No? Ah. We need more than Maggie as a witness.”
He smiled down at her, sending heat into her cheeks.
The servants openly studied Errol, and she saw curiosity in their faces. The women’s gowns and aprons, though clean, were old and had been mended in places. The men’s livery gleamed from wear, and their wigs sported bare patches.
“Is there a decent bed in this house with clean sheets?” Errol asked.
“Ye mean to stay the night?” the housekeeper asked.
The butler sent her a silencing look, which didn’t stop the bold woman.
“We’ll ready two chambers for ye,” she said.
“One chamber,” Errol said, a questioning gaze fixed on Ann. “If you’ll marry me now, Ann,” he whispered.
Her heart pounded fiercely, remembering the kisses they’d shared. If they married now there’d be more than kisses, this very day, a lifetime of them. A shiver went through her.
