My dear cousin,
Summer is fast upon us. I request the pleasure of your company at Dunoon as soon as possible to discuss a matter of some import. As we discussed last winter, for your kindness following the death of the countess last year and your attention to little Archie and the girls, I've gifted you with a sizeable parcel of land. Archibald, 7th Earl of Argyll
More land. How humiliating. Despite her cousin's claim, Lizzie knew that her help following the death of the countess wasn't the real reason for the gift. Archie obviously thought he needed to sweeten the pot to get someone to marry her. No doubt he was only trying to help, but her tocher was already one of the richest in the land; wasn't that enough?
Her shoulders sagged. Apparently not.
Part of this was her own fault.Summer,she'd promised. Could it be June already? When her cousin had broached the subject of another betrothal all those months ago during the Yule celebration, the days were still short and the snow blanketing the moors of Inveraray Castle still comfortably deep. Summer had seemed so far away. There had seemed plenty of time to find a suitable man on her own. Plenty of time in which to fall in love.
After the travesty of her last betrothal, she'd vowed to marry only for love—what she thought she'd found with John. But it had been a foolish girl's vow. A vow made when her emotions were still raw and tender from his cruelty.
Now, two years later, Lizzie had to be practical. At six and twenty, love probably wasn't for her.
Probably.
She sighed at her own foolishness. Even with reality staring her in the face, she could not completely shed the possibility from her mind. But it was well past time to give up that particular fantasy. She didn't want to live her life alone. Taking care of her cousin's and brother's households would not be enough forever, and as much as she loved little Archie and the girls, the children were not hers. She wanted a home and family of her own—enough to accept a new betrothal brokered by her cousin.
She felt a twinge of regret, thinking of her friends’ happiness, then quickly pushed it aside. Her two closest friends, Meg Mackinnon and Flora MacLeod, had both been fortunate enough to find love with their husbands. Ironically, Meg had married Flora's brother Alex. Meg had two young sons, and Flora had recently given birth to twins. Lizzie was happy for them, but it made her deeply aware of all that she was missing.
But as much as she wanted what her friends had found, she had to accept that she could not wait any longer for something that might never happen.
It doesn't matter,she told herself, determined as always to make the best of every situation.I will make my own happiness. Arranged marriage or not.
“Is something wrong, mistress?”
Lost in thought, Lizzie hadn't realized that Alys had been watching her again. She lifted a brow. “I thought you were embroidering?”
This time Alys would not be put off. Curiosity, it seemed, had finally overridden discretion. “You keep staring at that letter as if it's an execution warrant.”
A wry smile curved Lizzie's mouth. “Nothing as dramatic as that, I'm afraid.” The earl would be angry, but not with her.
“Are you worried about the travel with all those horrid MacGregors scurrying about the countryside?” Alys leaned across and patted her knee. “There's nothing to worry about. My Donnan will see that we come to no harm.”
Alys's husband was captain of the earl's guardsmen at Castle Campbell, and she was fiercely proud of the formidable warrior.
“No, it's not the travel,” Lizzie assured her. They were well protected by a dozen guardsmen, and not even the outlawed MacGregors would dare attack the Earl of Argyll's carriage. Besides, they were still in the Lowlands, well away from the Lomond Hills, where the proscribed clan was reputed to have fled following the battle of Glenfruin.
Even as news of the atrocities committed by the MacGregors at Glenfruin spread through the Highlands, it was hard for Lizzie to reconcile the man who'd come to her aid with the band of ruthless outlaws who'd perpetrated a massacre on the field of Glenfruin. In this, however, she was alone in her family. Her cousin had been charged by King James to bring the MacGregors to justice for their crimes and for the past few years had made it his mission. A mission in which her brothers Jamie and Colin had joined. It was only a matter of time before the outlaws were all hunted down.
What would happen to her warrior? Knowing the answer, she tried not to think about it.
Lizzie met the other woman's gaze, seeing the concern brimming in her warm brown eyes. She sighed, knowing that Alys was truly worried about her.
She would have handed her the note, but Alys, a Highlander to the core, did not read Scots, only a smattering of the Highland tongue. Lizzie read the words aloud as the coach bumped along a particularly rocky patch of road, her voice reverberating with each jolt.
When she was finished, Alys frowned. “Why would you be upset about getting more land?”
“Don't you see? The land is only the bait. My cousin intends to find me another husband.”
Alys snorted. “ ’Tis about time, if you ask me.”
Having suspected that this would be the older woman's reaction, Lizzie had hoped to avoid the subject altogether. A wry smile turned her mouth. “Your sympathy is overwhelming.”
“Bah,” said the other woman with disgust. “ ’Tis not sympathy you need but a husband and bairns. You're a beautiful lass with a loving heart, and you've locked yourself away because of some arse …”
Lizzie gave her a sharp look.
“Because of some overstuffed peacock,” Alys continued. “I don't know what that man did to you, but he wasn't worth a halfpenny of the tears you spent on him.”
