“Aye. That is quite obvious. I am not sure what ye are getting at.”
“Ye dinna love her.”
Finlay shrugged. “Mayhap aye, mayhap nay. Love was no’ a prerequisite of the will.” The last thing he was going to do was tell his brother his true feelings for Willamina. His pull of attraction every time he thought of her could not be denied. But not only could he not admit that to his brother, he could notconfess it to Willamina. She had made clear her disinterest in a true marriage.
He was under the assumption her previous marriage was a horrid affair. So much so that she feared another marriage. He did not want her to fear him. If giving her her space and distance was what she wanted, it was the least he could do for her.
Finlay Primrose was a patient man when it came to things he wanted. He was used to waiting until his target came in to sight.
Not that he saw Willamina as a target. Nor prey. But he was willing to wait for her. He would show her that whatever her first marriage was, one between them would be completely different.
“I am so sick of ye getting e’erything handed to ye on a silver platter. As if, as if ye are some damned golden child.”
“Really? Ye think that to be the truth? Ye have naught idea the responsibility that lies upon my shoulders,” Finlay spat, tired of his brother’s childish behavior. Ye spend your days drinking without a care in the damn world. ’Tis time ye grow up.”
Fingal sputtered, but remained speechless as he stomped out of the room.
Sighing, Finlay shook his head. His brother had always been coddled. No one had really expected him to ever take over the title and all its responsibilities.
He poured himself a dram of whisky and sank into an upholstered chair set by the massive fireplace. Mayhap Fingal and Yvette would find living on the estate unbearable once Willamina moved in and they would leave to settle into one of the other Rosebery estates far away from here.
Ah, Willamina. Here. In his home. He could not get the vision of her out of his mind. As obsessed with him getting married as Fingal was, he had to say he had the same obsession with his future wife.
The talk with her cousin was simple enough. He stated his intentions. Gil was nonchalant about the whole situation, he wasjust happy to not have the responsibility anymore. It just proved to him that her cousin really had no interest in what was best for her whatsoever. He was certain that if Kelly, Jackson, Graham, or Wingot had taken him aside and said they wanted to marry her, Gil would have reacted in the same way.
If his memory served him correctly, they had only come to know each other shortly after her parents’ deaths and it showed.
That would make sense considering their relationship was tepid at best. Finlay found her positively delightful. In his mind, he saw the whole situation as Gil’s loss.
And definitely his gain.
Later, he and Willamina were due to promenade. A proper date that they had been partaking in for the past two days, and news had been spreading like wildfire of their impending nuptials. He had sent word to his best friends and hoped that they would all be able to stay and visit for some time before the ceremony, but the timeline was tight. The last time they were together was when Alexander and Clarissa had married. It seemed so long ago. They had kept up to date with each other’s affairs by letter.
He laughed out loud. He found it comical how it seemed that most of the time when he and his friends gathered lately, it was because one of them was getting married. He was third. Two more to go.
He could see Malcolm marrying, but Gunn? Nay, he could not see that man settling down. He owned a popular pub and inn, The Stag & Dove, in Banchory, and he had a steady stream of women to warm his bed. The thought of that man settling down with one woman did not seem plausible.
The front door slammed, and he sighed. His brother wouldn’t take to him for the rest of the day, mayhap longer seeing the way his temper was flaring. That was fine with Finlay. Distance from Fingal was something he always enjoyed.
For being twins, they had never been close. Even when they were young lads. Finlay had always been responsible, while Fingal had always been wild and carefree. The luxury of being the second-born and youngest, if only by six minutes. His status allowed him to sow his oats.
He would not always have the Rosewood estate to fall back on. Eventually, he would need to settle into his own. With his own occupation. He and Yvette would have their own family. Their own estate.
Finlay could only look forward to that day.
He finished his whisky and set the glass on the mahogany side table. He needed to get up and prepare to call on Willamina. One thing he had noted since they had decided to announce their engagement was he had certainly made some enemies. The hard looks he got when he was out and about were uncalled for.
It was not like he had stolen Willamina away from these men. If they had been more charming they may as well have been in this position instead of him.
That everyone believed that they were truly in love just proved that their farce was believable. They had had their doubts, apparently for no reason.
After freshening up, he climbed into his waiting carriage and made his way to Buckwood Manor. Domenic opened the door as he lifted his hand to knock.
“Good afternoon, my lord. Lady Watson will be down shortly and has asked that ye be shown to the parlor to wait. Shall I bring ye a drink?”
“Nay, thank ye, Domenic. I shall wait in the parlor as instructed.” He gave the Buchanan butler a smile and walked down the hall and entered the parlor, surprised that Gil occupied one of the chairs. “Buchanan,” he dipped his head in greeting.
“Primrose. I am certain Willamina will be down momentarily. I have found that she enjoys making people wait on her.”
