“You’d be surprised. Not every man is as jaded as you about love, old friend. Some are quite happy to find a sweet young woman to marry so that they might make a good life together. Now…” Stirling paused as the boy returned with their brandy on a tray. Once he departed, Stirling said, “Now, would you consider coming and bidding on the woman?”
“Bid on a bride? You want me tobuya woman? God’s teeth, Stirling, I have no wish to marry yet. Besides, I have no need to buy a wife, you know that.” Mere weeks after William’s death, women were seeking invitations to visit him in Scotland. Half of the Englishtonwanted to traipse across his threshold, invade his life and disturb his grief, all for the chance of leg-shackling the newest Earl of Huntley.
Stirling sipped his brandy, eyeing Lachlan thoughtfully. “I remember all too well your wilder days, but with William gone, a wife might ease some of your burden.”
Lachlan frowned and swirled the contents of his glass.
His friend’s eyes narrowed. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
They drank in silence for a moment before Stirling shrugged off the tension and smiled. “I thought you might be interested in knowing that the young lady is Daphne Westfall. She’s very beautiful and quite sweet. I was hoping you would at least consider meeting her.”
Westfall...
The name hit him like a blow to the gut...a name carved in blood upon his heart. On the study table near his brother’s body had been a letter that explained the shame and responsibility William felt over his dealings with the notorious counterfeiter Sir Richard Westfall. The Huntley title and lands had survived the fallout from Westfall’s forgeries, but William had never been one to withstand the loss of honor.
“Westfall?” Lachlan’s mouth ran dry at the name. “She wouldn’t happen to be Sir Richard’s daughter, would she? The man convicted of counterfeiting bank notes?”
Stirling gave a slow nod. “Indeed, she is. Do you know her?”
Lachlan had never shared the contents of the letter with anyone, not even his mother.
“No, but I hear she is a nice lass, despite her father’s crimes.”
He’d heard no such thing. Hadn’t even known the old bastard had a child. But the revenge he never thought he’d get for William might now wait within reach.
“So, you’ll come? I promised Miss Westfall I would bring good, decent men to bid on her. She’s fallen on hard times, and a good match would secure her future.”
Lachlan composed his features into a polite show of interest. “Of course. I’d be happy to meet the lass and bid on her.”
James grinned. “Marriage will suit you well. I had a feeling it would take only a nudge.”
With a grim smile, Lachlan agreed. Sir Richard was in prison for his crimes, and so would his daughter endure a prison of another sort.
She was going to marry him, and spend the rest of her life paying for her father’s crimes by forgoing the rich trappings that her father’s forgeries had given her. She would learn to live with no frivolity, no joy, no love…nothing.
Just as he was condemned to live without his brother.
We can suffer together.
***
Daphne felt like an imposter in the blue gown that Stirling had given her. He’d insisted she keep it, but she’d promised she would find a way to return it once she had new clothes of her own. Fear turned her mouth bitter as she tried not to think about her future after tonight, and she reached instinctively for the pearls in the pocket of her new gown.
As she entered the drawing room of Stirling James’s townhouse, she reminded herself that this was the safest option remaining. If she secured a husband tonight, she would avoid the brothel and not go hungry again.
A group of seven men stood by the fire, all talking quietly to one another. When she cleared her throat, they turned as one, each instantly assessing her. She folded her hands in front of her to control their shaking as she endured their speculative perusals.
She’d never thought much of how brood mares felt when being sold at Tattersals, but now she felt quite sorry for the creatures.
“Gentlemen, may I present Miss Daphne Westfall?” Stirling approached, lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed her gloved fingers. “Are you all right, my dear?” he whispered.
“Yes, I just feel a little…” Her trembling hand said what she could not. He gave it a gentle squeeze.
“They are good men and will treat you fairly.”
“Thank you,” she said. She meant it. Stirling had saved her from the streets and she would never be able to repay his kindness.
“Good. I will introduce you to each man. They will place their bids in their envelopes. The highest bidder will return and we will sign the contracts. This will secure your monetary assets.”
