Page 5 of An English Rose for the Highlander
Relief flooded both of her parents’ faces, sighs leaving them, and her father stood up, pulling Horatia along with him as he headed straight to the door with a final, “Of course, dear. You have the room.”
In what she could only think of as a cowardly display, Baldwin bolted toward the exit, practically dragging Horatia through it with him. Rose exhaled hard, her head dropping as she refocused herself, her eyes on the soft, rosy fibers of the carpet for a moment.
The door clicked shut behind her parents, leaving nothing but utter silence in their wake. Rose had never been an exceptionally talented orator or negotiator. Still, through the years of living with her parents, she’d forced herself to develop these skills. So now, as she stood before two Scots in full regalia, she sucked in a steady breath and squared her shoulders as she met the Laird’s eyes.
“My sincerest apologies for any confusion or offense, Laird MacKay. You will, of course, have your marriage, my land, and the additional deal with my father regarding the trading port. All I ask in return is one simple thing. My lady’s maid, Peggy, must come along with us to Scotland and remain at my side.”
Laird MacKay’s brows raised as surprise and confusion painted over his features. The silence hung between them for a time until his mouth curved into something close to a smirk—a fact Rose would not allow herself to consider.
“Done.” He nodded once. “I suggest ye ensure that the woman is well packed and ready for a hard day’s travel.”
It struck her then that the Laird intended to leave for Scotland immediately, the urgency in his tone unmistakable. Rose blinked several times, turning her chin down briefly before glancing up at the imposing figure again.
“Am I to understand that you wish to return to Scotland immediately?”
A flicker of something flashed through the Laird’s eyes, and she watched him restrain the urge to raise a brow at her again.
“Aye, lass. I daenae wish to remain in England for a moment longer than necessary.”
Forcing her irritation into a polite smile, Rose spoke pointedly and clearly as she refuted this idea.
“I understand your desire to return home, though I must inform you that it would be most scandalous for us to leave the country without properly marrying first.”
Annoyance crystallized on Laird MacKay’s features, and this time, he could not stop himself from rolling his eyes slightly and letting out a quiet groan.
“I’ve nay time for the rules and customs of English High Society, lass. Would it truly be of such offense if we were to leave at once?”
Holding Rose’s eyes as if he were looking beneath the layers of etiquette and social training she wore, the Laird crossed his arms over his broad chest, forcing her to swallow hard. She hid it well, but Rose would not be ordered around by a man who was not yet her husband, particularly when her family’s reputation among thetonwas already in jeopardy.
“Unfortunately, Laird MacKay, it would be quite disastrous. While the customs of English Society might be a nuisance to you, I assure you that they would follow our marriage were they not heeded.”
He hesitated, his stare going to his man-at-arms as those muscles around his jaw worked tirelessly again. It was abundantly clear that the Laird did not wish to trouble himself with all this. However, it was equally obvious that neither of them had a choice. They were both invested in the outcome of this marriage.
“Very well, but I’ve no intention of waiting about for the ceremony. You and yer family were quite through with wedding preparations, according to Miss Wood. The only thing that’s changed now is the groom.”
The ways in which this man could shock her truly knew no bounds. Rose shook her head, stepping forward with her hand over her chest as she tried again to make a Scottish Laird understand English customs.
“Laird MacKay, I understand your need for haste, but a license is required in England to wed and consecutive announcements in the Banns. We have not acquired either of these requirements. A hasty wedding between us would need a special license, extended by the?—”
“I shall obtain one, then.”
Rose clenched her jaw, her hands squeezing into fists at her sides. “It is not an easy matter to simply obtain a special license. There is a process by which you must?—”
“I. Shall. Get. One…lass.”
Fuming, Rose huffed out a breath. Everything about this man was proving to be especially exasperating. Brilliant irritation lit up her insides, but she was equally unnerved standing here before the overlarge man as he stared down at her with such confidence.
He also continued to call herlass, and Rose was near to screaming at this point.
Never in her life had Rose met a man who rattled her so completely. Everything about the Laird was too much. Too tall. Too blunt. Too unabashedly male. TooScottish.
She glared across the distance at him, doing what she could to maintain her composure as she offered a single nod. Still, her eyes betrayed her once more, tracking down the extended length of the Laird’s body to his legs, still so naked beneath his kilt.
His dark stare caught hers once more as she forced herself to look up, sinking its hooks in her like she was a foolish fish discovered in shallow waters. Heat flamed up her neck and cheeks, and the mortification she felt at how undoubtedly pink she had turned was liable to kill her.
“How long do ye mean to keep stealing glances at me legs, lass?”
Rose’s mouth went dry, a throbbing whoosh in her ears to the rhythm of each heartbeat, and she forced out, “I never expected that my husband-to-be would arrive at my home essentially half-naked.”
