The busy bitties that she called friends obviously lived more for gossip and scandal than actual friendship. How dare they practically run Willamina out of town.
“We shall leave in the morning.”
Her eyes fell to her trunk. “I suppose ’tis good that I didna unpack my things then.” She took a sip of tea and sighed. “This isna necessary, Finlay. I am sure out of all of your travels, ye can think of other places of which ye would like to spend a holiday.”
He shrugged. “It makes no matter. Ye dinna want your estate to stay unmanaged for too long.” He placed his hand on hers and smiled when she didn’t pull away from his touch. “Besides, I want to see how ye lived up there in the highlands.”
“’Tis getting late in the year. The weather will be cold.”
“Then we shall pack accordingly.”
She still looked uncertain.
“Willamina. Trust me. We will have a most enjoyable honeymoon there. And ye will be away from the prying eyes ofe’eryone here making certain we are honeymooning properly.” He winked at her and she laughed. A true laugh. One he hadn’t heard in a while.
“’Tis settled then. How do ye like your food? If there is something no’ to your liking, I will speak with Cook.”
Shaking her head, she took another bite of eggs, chewing before she answered him. “That willna be necessary. In fact, I’m afraid ye will be sorely disappointed with my Cook. Yours puts her to shame. But dinna tell her I said such so,” she giggled and dabbed at her mouth.
“I do have some business to attend. E’en though we are honeymooning.” He finished his tea. “’Tis with my father’s solicitor if ye would like to join me?”
“I think I shall stay here and get ready for our journey.”
He nodded, not the least surprised that she didn’t want to come with him for the meeting. He had to sign paperwork showing that he had indeed married before his birthday and would be retaining the title. Much to his brother’s chagrin, but, truly, Fingal should have known better.
An hour later, he and Fingal were sitting in the study of their father’s longtime solicitor Bernard Bigsby. Fingal hadn’t stopped glaring at him since he’d arrived and slouched in the chair beside his.
“Well,” Bigsby said, as he pored over the papers spread across his desk. “It appears all is in order. Your father’s demands have been met and no further actions are needed. Congratulations on your marriage, Lord Primrose.”
“Pfft,” Fingal grunted. “He doesna e’en love the chit.”
“I suggest ye watch your tongue, brother, and show some respect to mywife,” Finlay warned.
“Most marriages doona start with love,” Bigsby stated matter-of-factly. “Your father had no such requirement. Onlythat the marriage must take place before your twenty-eighth birthday. That has been followed. There is naught further to do.”
Fingal just shook his head and seethed quietly. “This is such a farce. Who puts such a thing in their damned will?”
Finlay pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired of the same old argument, over and over again. “Might I remind ye, that e’en if father had no’ written such a clause, ye still wouldna get the title on our birthday.”
“Nay, ye dinna. But barring your death, this was my one chance.”
Finlay couldn’t believe his ears. His brother really was that selfish. The bastard. “Well, I believe we are done here and I must get back to my wife. We are readying to travel to Inverness in the morn.” He stood and stuck out his hand for a shake. “Thank ye, Bigsby. ’Twas nice seeing ye again.” He stuck his hat on his head, and pinched the brim as he said his goodbyes to his brother.
As he left the room, he could hear Fingal continue to complain. He felt for the lawyer. The poor man was going to have to listen to Fingal for Lord knew how much longer until he finally tired and gave up.
His brother would get over the reality eventually. He wouldn’t be surprised if he set Yvette aside and went back to whoring his way through Edinburgh. Whatever his brother decided to do, Finlay needn’t worry about it. Nor did he plan on thinking about him while he was spending time in Inverness.
On his honeymoon.
The trip would take him and Willamina two days if they pushed it. They’d stop at an inn for the night on the morrow and to switch out the horses.
Happy to return to his wife, he left Bigsby’s house. Knowing that their union was only on paper didn’t dissuade him from hoping for something more. He’d be lying if he hoped that their Inverness trip would allow Willamina to finally realize that shedeserved love. Her late husband was a shite. He wanted her to see that marriage didn’t need to be miserable. She deserved respect.
Hell, she deserved to be put on a pedestal and worshipped.
He shook his head. For someone who didn’t want to get married, he sure did find himself pining after his fake wife.
