*
Willamina had somany thoughts running through her head on the carriage ride over to Primrose Castle. Finlay sat beside her, his thigh touching hers, heating her whole body. Every time the carriage jostled, he bumped into her, making the space between them less.
“I look forward to seeing Primrose Castle,” she said, trying to change the subject so she would stop thinking about his closeness.
He gave her a smile. “I look forward to showing it to ye. ’Twill be yours to run as ye see fit from this point on, but ye will have a few days before having to take on such a task.”
She did not plan on taking over the Primrose Castle household, or any of Finlay’s holdings’ households. Those were his properties and should remain that way. The only household she was worried about was Warton House back in Inverness.
Any other residence belonged to Finlay and she did not expect him to turn anything over to her. Those should go to his wife.
Though she was his wife, his holdings should go to hisrealwife. The one that he would have in the future.
ButIam his real wife. They had the papers to prove it.
“Ye needn’t do that, Finlay. I shouldna be made responsible for Primrose Castle. ’Tis your holding. It belongs in your family.”
His hand clasped hers. “And in my family it remains.”
“Finlay.”
“Willamina.”
She noticed he called her by her full name instead of the nickname he had taken to calling her lately.
“This is no’ real, remember.”
His ice-blue eyes clouded. “I remember,” he said stiffly. “However, for it to be believable for those around us, we still need to follow the steps that all newly married couples follow.”
She nodded.
The carriage came to a halt, jolting them into each other again. She straightened, trying to put a little distance between them.
The door swung open and Finlay exited, turning with a hand out to her to assist. Placing her hand in his, his fingers wrapped around hers as she stepped out of the carriage.
Her breath caught at the sight in front of her. Primrose Castle was a large tower house. Torches lit the exterior and also along the pathway leading up to the entry. She could hear the rush of water, letting her know they were close to the coast. It was too dark to see, so she would have to wait until the morrow to see more.
She followed him through the huge arched doorway, which opened to a massive space. Large arched windows blanketed the door. The floors were wood, polished to a shiny hue. She cranedher neck to look at the tall ceilings. The walls were papered in a pretty multi-color flowered pattern with a yellow background.
“My lord,” a new butler that Willamina didn’t recognize addressed Finlay. “I have taken the initiative to move the lady’s belongings into the master suite.”
“Thank ye, Richard. And may I present to ye my wife, Willamina, Lady Primrose.”
It felt so odd to be presented as a wife. Also, to no longer be called Lady Watson. The last hold her late husband held on her was now gone. She would never have to be referred to as that name again. A sense of relief washed over her at that realization.
She dipped her head in greeting. “’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Richard.”
He bowed, and disappeared through one of the doors.
“Shall we?” Finlay waved a hand toward the stairs.
In this house, a center staircase, so wide it appeared that eight people could climb it side by side, was the focal point of the entryway. The stairs were a rich, dark wood, with plush red carpet covering the center.
She inhaled a deep breath, and nodded. Up the stairs, they took a right and walked all the way to the end of the wood-paneled hall. Pausing in front of a set of massive double doors, Finlay gave her a wink before pushing the doors open and stepping aside to allow her entry.
Inside the room, her eyes widened. One massive four-poster bed was centered against the far wall. Plush pillows were piled high on top of a dark blue coverlet.
She looked around the room, searching for another bed, but found none.
