Chapter Seven
Did she justreally agree to marry Lord Primrose? After saying she would not remarry? Aye, aye she did. His proposal made sense. It did save her from her cousin. And it apparently saved him, but from what, she knew not. Just like he did not know all of her past, nor did she his.
“Wait!” Lord Primrose called before they returned to the house. He leaned in low and whispered in her ear. “Since we have a deal, we must shake on it.”
He spoke so close to her ear that his warm breath sent goosebumps across her skin. She straightened, trying not to show the effect he had on her, and nodded. “I do believe ye are correct, my lord.” She stuck her hand out, and Lord Primrose looked as if he was a bit shocked that she agreed to the gesture.
He clasped her hand and pulled her ever so closer. “Soon, ye will be calling me Finlay,my lady.” He smirked as they shook hands to seal their deal.
Och, Finlay Primrose was going to be hard to resist. But she refused to suffer another marriage similar to her first. She would not be made a fool of.
Not ever again.
Entering into a false marriage saved her assets, and her heart. For the offer, she would be forever grateful to Finlay Primrose.
When they entered the parlor, the other men began to crowd around her, and she shrank back. She really just wanted them all to take their leave.
“Buchanan,” Finlay called. “May I have a word?”
Gil nodded.
“In private.”
“We can go to my study if that will suffice?”
“’Twill.” He turned to her and must have seen the look of distress on her face. “Joan. I do believe Lady Watson may have overheated in the sun. Mayhap ye can bring her to her room to recover?”
If Finlay Primrose was always going to be this thoughtful and kind taking her needs into consideration, it may not be so hard to fake their relationship. She mouthed her thanks to him and she curtsied to the waiting men and left the room, Joan close on her heels, ignoring their mumbles of annoyance.
She cared not. Once again, she hoped they would all leave.
“My lady,” Joan said once they were back in Willamina’s room with the door shut behind them. “Ye appear fine to me. Is there something ye need?”
Willamina laughed. “Nay, Joan. Thank ye. ’Twas just a ploy by Lord Primrose to get me out and away from that den of wolves.”
Her maid sighed. “I do wish Sir Battersby returned. I verra much enjoyed speaking with him.”
Willamina gave her a knowing smile. “I could see that.” She moved to the small sofa that was set near the window overlooking the gardens and patted the seat beside her. “Come sit and tell me all about him.”
Joan flushed, unsure if she should or not.
“Joan, while I appreciate all of your help and service, it doesna mean that we canna have any conversations on other topics. Now come.”
Reluctantly, her maid dropped down beside her. “I know he was here to call upon ye, so I mean no disrespect.”
“Pfft!” Willamina waved her hand in dismissal. “Absolutely none taken, Joan. Sir Battersby, as sweet as he seemed, would ne’er make a good match for me. He is much too young. But,” she said conspiratorially, “he did appear to be rather smitten with ye.”
Joan’s already pink cheeks turned a deep red. “It canna be, but I enjoyed our conversation. And he is verra handsome,” she added.
“He is, isna he? Mayhap we can invite him over for dinner one evening.”
Joan shook her head. “Oh, I dinna believe that is a good idea, my lady. He was telling me he has a duty to find a wife.”
“Aye,” Willamina prodded.
“Well, as ye know, my lady, he is a baron. I am a maid. ’Tis no’ meant to be. But I will forever treasure our talk.”
“I would ne’er rule anything out, Joan. Sometimes things happen and take us by surprise. A match between ye both is not entirely out of the realm of possibility.”
