Page 2 of The Season for Loving
“If that doesn’t take the cake,” Evelyn said indignantly. “Will Endicott, you are always ordering me about.”
“I do no such thing,” he said. “Besides, you generally ignore what I say anyway.”
Lady Reese gave an approving nod. “My daughters are no fools. I raised them to think for themselves.”
“Thank you, Mamma,” Evelyn said, giving her husband a triumphant grin.
“Now, Fergus,” Lady Reese said, again pinning him with her hawk-like gaze. “I have made allowances for the fact that London might have been a tad overwhelming for a man of your sensitive nature.”
“Good God, I’m not the least bit sensitive,” he said. “I’m rude and opinionated, which you’ve pointed out more than once. And I’m not overwhelmed by London. I simply don’t like it.”
“Nonsense. Everyone likes London. And certainly you are sensitive. I used to think that all Scotsmen were ill mannered, but now I realize they’re often simply melancholic. And who can blame them, living as they do at the back of beyond.”
“But you love Scotland, Mamma,” Evelyn said. “You always have a grand time when you visit Edie and Alec.”
Especially when Lady Reese got into his uncle’s finest whisky, Fergus had noticed.
“Scotland is quite charming in small doses, although certainly not in winter,” her mother replied. “Fergus, unfortunately, has lived there his entire life, which accounts for his brooding nature.”
“That is just ridiculous,” he said. And embarrassing. If the carriage weren’t going so fast, he’d be tempted to throw himself out.
“Please do not interrupt,” Lady Reese said. “I now consider you quite like one of my own children, Fergus. As such, I have only your best interests at heart.”
Evelyn wrinkled her nose with sympathy at that appalling pronouncement, although Will was obviously stifling laughter. He was probably thrilled that Lady Reese had another hapless victim to manage, since it meant less of his mother-in-law’s notice on him.
“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure Fergus is capable of taking care of himself,” Evelyn said.
“Clearly he is not, given that he fell ill after working himself so hard,” Lady Reese said. “Lord Riddick was quite clear with me that Fergus was in need of a rest. And he expressly asked me to help find the dear boy a suitable wife. As you know, I’m very good at that.”
“I truly doubt that my uncle asked you to marry me off,” Fergus said, starting to feel a tad desperate. “Especially to a Sassenach.”
“You must learn to put your irrational prejudice against English ladies aside,” Lady Reese said in a severe tone. “While Lord Riddick might not have directly asked me to find you a wife, I was able to deduce his intentions with no difficulty.”
“That really doesn’t sound much like his lordship, Mamma,” Evelyn said.
“Of course it doesn’t sound like him,” Fergus said. If his uncle was so hell bent on marrying him off, he’d want Fergus to find a sturdy Scottish lass and not a pampered English beauty. “Not that it matters, since I have no intention of getting married. Besides, it’s no longer necessary.”
Not since Edie Gilbride was now with child. Though Fergus was technically still in the line of succession to the Riddick title, after Alec, the pressure for him to get married and produce an heir was moot.
“I’m thrilled, of course, that my daughter isenceinte,” Lady Reese said. “But that hardly means you need to adopt the life of a monk. A wife would be just the thing to cheer you up.”
Fergus finally indulged in a bit of temper, scowling at his tormenter. “I do not wish to get married.”
“Nonsense. Everyone wants to get married.”
“Well, I don’t. It’s a bloody awful idea, and we all know why.”
After an awkward silence, Lady Reese spoke first. “Because of your mother?” she asked in a surprisingly sympathetic tone. “I for one have never held with the view that madness is hereditary, and Lord Riddick assures me that no one else in your family has ever displayed an inclination to lunatic behavior. True, I will admit that your sister is rather odd, but she’s not the sort to go raving about and trying to murder people.”
“I should hope not,” said Will, “since Donella is now in the process of becoming a nun.”
“You never know, William,” Lady Reese said mysteriously. “I’ve read accounts about convents and monasteries that would make your hair stand on end.”
Her daughter choked out a laugh. “You’re talking aboutThe Monkagain, aren’t you? That’s a work of fiction, and you know it. I very much doubt that Miss Haddon or any of the pious women at the Convent of the Holy Cross are engaging in lurid activities.”
“I have already made the point that Miss Haddon is an entirely respectable young woman,” her mother replied.
“Thank you for that,” Fergus said in a dry voice.
