“I have nothing save what I am wearing,” she admitted, another blush of shame warming her face.
“Not to worry,” Stirling said, but the sorrow in his eyes was almost too much to bear. She focused on the small window of the coach while he opened the door and gave the driver an address.
A marriage auction.But what choice had she? She pressed her hand against the pearls hidden in her dress and closed her eyes. The edges of her frozen world seemed to thaw just a bit, and her body warmed with the promise of safety and a chance to live again.
Chapter Two
Lachlan Grant strode into the card room of Berkley’s club, scowling at any man who dared appear to think about getting in his way. The coach ride from Edinburgh had been long and tedious and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with foppish Englishmen preening before one another. He didn’t even wish to be out this evening, but remaining alone one moment longer in his brother’s townhouse would have driven him insane.
No, no longer his brother’s…
Like everything else in the months since his older brother’s death, that residence still felt like William’s. William’s title, William’s home, William’s life. Lachlan had simply stepped into his boots to fill the void.
I never wanted to be the Earl of Huntley.
A bitter taste clung to his tongue and he scowled, his mood blackening further.
Now he was saddled with a bloody title and all the duties and responsibilities that came attached. He had gained a fortune he’d never wanted, and the price had been the brother he’d treasured most.
Lachlan scanned the tables, desperate to join any card game, even though his heart rebelled. He felt reckless, angry, and ready to do something utterly foolish--anythingto ease the ache in his chest.
He was the last of the Grant family, for neither he nor William had married. It was one of the reasons they had been so close, only two years apart in age. William had turned thirty a mere six months before he’d passed, and Lachlan had just turned eight and twenty, far too young to lose his brother.
A burst of laughter from a nearby table drew his focus. A group of young bucks leaned around a Faro table, excited by their winnings. He started toward the table, but someone stepped into his path and he stumbled into the man.
“My apologies,” he muttered.
The other man caught him by the shoulders and they both stood back. Lachlan blinked in surprise as he recognized that dark hair and angled chin. “Stirling?” The dark clouds gathering on his inner horizon lifted somewhat.
“My God, Lachlan!” Sir Stirling James slapped him on the shoulder in greeting. “How long has it been?”
“At least four months,” Lachlan chuckled.
His friend sighed but his eyes remained warm. “Four months? That long? You’ve been well, I trust?” This question came more carefully and Lachlan knew why. Stirling had been just as close to William as he was to Lachlan, but he’d been out of the country and had missed the funeral. William’s unexpected death had left many of their friends still coping with his loss.
“I admit, I have been better.” Lachlan scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “Never wanted to run Huntley Castle. Not that I have a choice now.”
Stirling nodded, his eyes shadowed. “Come and have a drink. I want your opinion on something.”
Lachlan followed Stirling. Encountering his old friend had softened his reckless mood. They entered a quiet reading room with a crackling fire and thick plush chairs. After settling, Stirling waved a boy over and ordered two glasses of brandy.
Lachlan rested his forearms on his knees and leaned close to Stirling. “What can you possibly need my advice on?”
Stirling met his gaze with a sudden hint of mischief. “I’m holding a marriage auction tomorrow evening. I was hoping you might join us and bid on the bride.”
A bark of laughter escaped Lachlan, but he sobered when his friend frowned. “What the devil is a marriage auction?”
His friend chuckled. “It’s exactly as it sounds. I have a lovely young lady staying at my home and I’m inviting some marriage-minded men to meet her and speak with her for a few minutes. Then you bid upon her. The highest bidder takes her as a bride. The money he bids is placed in a special trust for the lady, to be handled by a third party, a man she trusts and chooses.”
“The women involved are willing participants?”
Stirling drew back. “What do you take me for?”
“A far better man than I just implied. I apologize. So, tell me, what is this actually about?”
“It’s about aiding ladies in distress, women who are desperate for a match. Most men agree to pay a small fortune to secure a bride.”
“And you have men agreeing to purchase a bride?” Lachlan never thought to meet a man willing to give a fortune to a wife when the law allowed husbands to claim their wives’ property. Lachlan wasn’t one to marry for monetary gain, but he knew many men did.
