The Laird's Forbidden Lady (21 page)

Coward.

These were his people. His clan. If her husband wanted her here, then she didn’t have a choice. She’d given up all her rights with this marriage. Her blood ran cold at the thought, but she met their dark glances with as much calm indifference as she could muster. And she could
muster quite a lot, given her training in the ballrooms of London.

Most of them let their gazes fall away. Except Willy Gair. He had a very strange expression on his face. Not horror, thought there was some of that, too—something more akin to fear.

Douglas McTavish grinned. ‘I see you’ve dodged the soldiers, Ian Gilvry. Ye hae the luck of the devil himself.’ His gaze slid to Selina and back, clearly demanding an explanation.

‘A pox on the gaugers,’ a man at the back cried.

Ian grinned. ‘I’m glad to hear you all made it home safe and my thanks for ensuring the goods arrived safely at their destination. It will put coin in your pockets and enough food on the table to last the winter, too.’

‘Good health to the Laird.’

‘Aye, a toast,’ someone yelled.

Ian put up a hand. ‘There is another cause for celebration this day. Ranald, a dram all around,’ Ian said. ‘Then I’ll offer you a toast.’

Niall looked up from the book he had pulled from his pocket when they entered. ‘Are you sure you want to do this here and now?’ he muttered in Ian’s ear.

It seemed that for all his bookish ways, Niall took in more than one might guess.

He stood at Ian’s shoulder as Ranald handed them both a glass.

‘Lads,’ Ian said, his face as hard as granite, ‘let me introduce my wife, Lady Selina. A toast to my bride.’

No one moved.

‘Sold your soul to Albright, did you?’ someone said. The eyes around the room glared at her. Hatred made the air in the room thick and acrid. Selina kept her chin high, but couldn’t stop leaning closer to Ian’s broad form. He put a protective hand on her shoulder.

‘There’s no need for insult,’ he said. ‘Lady Selina risked her reputation to help us all. Without her warning, there’d be no profit and most of us would be in prison.’

‘Aye, well, grateful as we are, Laird, no one here wants an Albright spy in our midst.’

Willy Gair looked almost green. He turned and pushed through the crowd and disappeared through the door.

‘Aye, and what would your grandfather have said?’ another added.

She felt his sigh of disappointment. ‘Accept her or find another Laird,’ Ian said coldly.

The men’s faces looked grim, unhappy, but not one of them flinched from Ian’s steady perusal.

For some reason, he had not told them what the marriage meant with respect to the keep. Why was that?

Niall let his gaze wander the room. There was
no mistaking his anger. ‘Don’t look to me. I’ll not usurp title of Laird from my brother. Not now, not ever.’

Selina glance up at Ian, whose eyes were full of shadows, but also resolve. He’d known how it would be, yet he was not using his most persuasive argument.

The innkeeper looked at Ian; of all the men present, his gaze wasn’t quite so unfriendly. ‘What about the plans you had, Ian Gilvry? The promises. The mill. The …’ He glanced at Selina and away. ‘You know. The plan.’

‘Aye, what about the plan?’ Several voices joined the chorus.

They clearly didn’t trust her enough to reveal what the nature of this plan was. And she couldn’t blame them. She was an Albright and probably always would be in their eyes. Oh, why didn’t he tell them about the keep? Surely it would make things better.

Ian gave the man who had called out a considering look. ‘The plans haven’t changed.’

The men looked uncertain. ‘Your father-in-law is the magistrate. Don’t tell me you have him in your pocket. I’ll no believe it.’

‘Her father does not yet know of our marriage. I came here first. My loyalty is to the clan. Without your support, there can be no plan. No future.’ He shook his head. ‘You might convince Logan to stand in my place.’

‘No. You won’t.’ Logan must have slipped through the door left open by Willy Gair. He pushed through the crowd to stand next to Niall. ‘I’m not saying I’m happy about this marriage,’ he continued, flushing red to the roots of his fair hair, ‘but I’ll respect his choice until it is proved bad for the clan.’

Some of the men nodded. Others shuffled their feet. A greybeard in the corner eyed the glass in his hand with longing. ‘So the Laird married a
Sassenach.
Surely any man with a brain can see she’s a right comely lass. The fact she’s the landlord’s daughter can’t be all bad. Can we no get to the toast? This whisky is evaporating before my very eyes.’

Chuckles rippled around the room.

‘Any man who will not drink health to my bride, will put down his glass and leave now.’ The command in Ian’s voice was a force in the room.

No one moved.

‘To Ian and his bride, Lady Selina,’ Niall said.

‘The Laird. Lady Selina.
Slàinte!
’ The male voices were a deep rumble.

By sheer force of will, and their trust in his leadership, they had accepted his marriage. Her admiration knew no bounds.

Though nothing showed on his face, she sensed his relief. Niall, on the other hand, was
grinning. ‘That was a close-run thing, brother,’ he murmured.

‘I still had my ace in the hole,’ Ian said.

‘The keep,’ Logan said, turning his back to the room. ‘When will you tell them?’

Ian scanned the room. ‘When it is settled. Who knows, my new father-in-law may try to wriggle out of the bargain.’

He couldn’t. It was part of her mother’s wedding settlements. The keep came to Selina on her marriage. Still, there was no reason to set his mind at rest—he’d find out soon enough.

‘Well, I can tell you our mother is none too pleased,’ Logan said.

‘She’ll see it differently when I have spoken to her,’ Ian said.

‘She won’t have an Albright in the house, I’m afraid.’ He nodded at Selina.

Ian saw Selina’s face pale and her back stiffen.

‘Right now it is her father I need to face. One battle at a time.’ He raised his voice. ‘Another round on me, Ranald. I’ll settle with you later. Only one round, mind, and then send them home or they’ll be getting no work done tomorrow.’

The innkeeper nodded. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll see them away.’

‘I’ll borrow your gig, if I may.’

Ranald grinned. ‘You’ll want to make a good impression on your future father-in-law.’ His
face sobered. ‘Do you have any idea who gave us to the gaugers?’

‘None. But I will find out.’

‘Aye. Let us hope so. We can’t risk being caught again.’

Selina’s eyes had narrowed in disapproval. Dear God, woman—not now, when the clan had barely accepted the fact of their marriage. They could make life very difficult if they thought she was trying to interfere in their business. He wanted them to get to know her and see her worth.

He hurried her outside before she could say anything, followed closely by his brothers. They watched Logan hitch a small brown mare to the gig.

‘I hope I can manage my father as well as you managed your men,’ Selina said.

He frowned. ‘It is for me to manage your father.’

‘I think not. I owe him an apology as well as an explanation.’

He looked at her for a long moment. ‘Very well. I will let you speak first, but let it be clear between us that you are now my responsibility, not his.’

No doubt he thought of her like a chattel or a burden. ‘He is my father.’

He closed his eyes, briefly, as if he regretted
his harsh words. ‘I just want you to remember you are my wife. It is my duty to keep you safe.’

Her insides softened at the protective note in his voice. The back of her neck prickled. Then she let go a breath. He had married her to get back by stealth what his family had been unable to reclaim by force. How else would he sound? He wanted to protect what he had won.

No doubt he thought she should be grateful he would let her speak to her father at all.

‘Ready to go,’ Logan said.

Ian turned to Niall. ‘You two stay here and make sure things stay calm and reasonable.’

‘You aren’t going up to the keep by yourself,’ Logan said, his face shocked.

‘I am.’

‘What if he strings you up out of hand?’

‘This is the nineteenth century,’ Selina said crossly. ‘Not seventeen hundred. My father would never do such a thing. And without evidence, there can be no trial.’

Logan didn’t look convinced, but shrugged and stepped back beside Niall. ‘You’re a fool to trust an Albright. It wouldn’t surprise me if he wasn’t involved in what happened to Drew.’

Ian’s expression darkened. His lips narrowed. ‘Don’t you be a fool. His death is no one’s fault but mine.’ Pain filled his voice and his expression. Guilt, too. And deep sadness. He set the
horse in motion, leaving his brothers to turn back and enter the inn.

Selina gazed at him curiously. ‘What did you do to Andrew?’

He inhaled a deep breath and let it go slowly, as if planning what he would say. ‘I made him board a ship for the New World. I sent him to see if there was somewhere the clan could settle should we be forced off this land.’

‘Because of my letter?’

‘I would not have known, if you hadn’t written, to be sure.’ He clicked his tongue at the horse to encourage it up the hill. ‘But what he did to that young woman was wrong. It brought dishonour to our name and so I told him.’

She winced. Hadn’t he just done the same thing with her? Perhaps it wasn’t as dishonourable to trick an Albright as it was to trick a perfect stranger. Drew had been awful to Alice, pretending to love her when all he really wanted was her money. He’d pretended he was wealthy and seduced her to ensure she could not refuse to marry him. Worst of all, he’d circulated gossip about it as a sort of insurance.

Alice had refused to be blackmailed, and when Selina realised just who it was who was breaking her best friend’s heart, she’d written to Ian and asked him to intercede with his brother. Drew had left town within the week.

‘He didn’t want to go. I had Carrick force
him onto that ship. When months passed with no word, I assumed he was still angry. Then we got a letter. He had joined a group exploring new lands. They never returned. Drew always was reckless. He couldn’t resist the adventure, I suppose. He went off to see more of the country instead of undertaking my commission. An acquaintance wrote and told us how it was. My mother blames me for his death.’

‘That is hardly fair.’

‘I should not have sent him away. He was my younger brother.’

‘What he did was heartless.’

‘Aye, but with the best of intentions. But I never told anyone it was you who let me know what he was up to.’

‘Oh.’

‘And nor should you.’ His expression was fierce. ‘They will never forgive you.’

Chapter Fifteen

T
he sound of galloping hooves behind them had Ian turning in his seat.

He cursed.

Selina turned to look and her heart sank at the sight of red uniforms and glittering accoutrements, the jingle of which drew ever closer.

Ian stopped the horse. ‘We don’t want to give them the idea we are running away,’ he said wryly. ‘One bullet wound in a week is enough for any man.’

More than enough. She steeled herself for the coming meeting.

The horses passed them and then circled around. Their leader broke rank and brought his horse close to the carriage. Lieutenant Dunstan, of course.

Dunstan’s blue eyes had dark circles beneath
them and his face looked weary. The pistol in his hand pointed at Ian’s head. He bowed. ‘Lady Selina. Ian Gilvry, in the name of the king, I arrest you for the crime of abduction. You will come with me quietly or risk further charges.’

‘And just who am I supposed to have abducted?’ Ian asked.

Dunstan glanced her way. ‘This lady.’

‘This lady is my wife.’

Dunstan frowned. His cheekbones flushed pink. The pistol lowered. He looked at Selina again. ‘Is this true? Are you married?’

‘Yes.’

The pink turned to red, the pistol coming up again. ‘Under duress?’

This was her chance to be rid of a husband who had tricked her into marriage. Ian was looking at her, waiting for her to deny him, but it was too late for that. No doubt he’d haul witnesses in who would say exactly what she’d done. She shook her head. ‘Not under duress.’

Beside her Ian relaxed. Good Lord, had the man planned to make a fight of it?

The expression of anger on Dunstan’s face dissolved into one of disappointment. He returned the pistol to its holster. ‘I see.’

She felt terrible. ‘I’m sorry.’

For a long moment he just looked at her and then he bowed. ‘I, too, am sorry.’

Sorry he’d lost her dowry, no doubt. There
wasn’t a pin to choose between him and Ian. She felt a bit like a bone between two dogs. One a foxhound and the other a wolfhound. She had no doubts about which one would win.

Ian shifted in the seat beside her and she glanced at him. He was glaring at Dunstan. A bone indeed.

‘We were just on our way up to the keep to see my father,’ she said.

‘My men and I will accompany you,’ he said. ‘To ensure you arrive safely.’

‘I am quite capable of driving half a mile to the keep,’ Ian said grimly.

‘And a great deal farther, I am sure,’ Dunstan said in arctic tones. He gave a brief order to his sergeant and the men fell in behind the carriage. Dunstan walked his horse alongside Selina.

‘I gather your courtship was of the whirlwind variety,’ Dunstan said after a few moments.

Ian made a sound like a growl low in his throat. A warning.

Selina nudged him with her elbow. The lieutenant could easily take it into his head to arrest him for some trifling offence, given the opportunity. ‘Indeed, lieutenant,’ she said, batting her lashes. ‘A positive tornado. Although Mr Gilvry and I have known each other for a very long time. It wasn’t until we met again that we realised our affections were still engaged.’

Not a bad story. Romantic. The kind of thing
the
ton
might forgive after they recovered from the scandal.