Chapter Three
“Cousin, I failto see the urgency in me finding a husband. Canna I just enjoy living for the present being without the added stress of husband-hunting?” Willamina asked Gil the next day after his butler, Domenic, announced several suitors awaiting to meet with them.
She had no interest in speaking with any of them, unless, of course, one of them happened to be Lord Primrose. Inwardly, she hoped he was here, but at the same time, she did not want him to be. Being forced into another marriage was not high on her list of items to achieve.
With the disaster of her first marriage, it was not something that she was eager to repeat.
She plucked at the corners of the toast Cook had prepared, making a crumby mess on her plate.
“Do stop playing with your food, cousin. Ye are a lady for God’s sake, not some petulant child. Stop acting like one.” Gil said over the rim of his teacup, before turning his attention back to the book he was reading, ignoring her question.
“’Tis easy for ye to say. Ye arena’ the one who is being forced into a relationship that ye dinna want. Or need, for that matter.”
“Actually,” Gil started, setting down his book and crossing his long legs. “If ye want to keep whatever monies and holdings ye inherited from your late husband, ye should want to marry. Lest ye want me to keep it all,” he added.
Sputtering, she had the childish urge to throw her toast at him. “Ye shall no’ do such a thing. Ye wouldna dare.”
He raised a brown brow as his eyes met hers. “Dare I? Och, indeed I would. I was perfectly happy having the manor to myself, ye ken.”
“Then ye should have left me in Inverness. I also was perfectly happy there as well.” She crossed her arms and shot him a glare.
Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. “Mayhap, but even ye must admit, your welcome in Inverness was wearing thin. Thanks to your little escapades with theundead.” His lips puckered as he said undead, as if he had just bit into something sour.
“None of that was through any fault of mine.”
“Really?” he asked with disbelief.
“Truly,” she spat. “I will have ye know that I had a verra good reputation with the parties I held. The ladies in attendance were all verra happy with the outcome, each and every time.”
He cocked his head to the side as he studied her. “Until they werena.”
“Oh, phooey!” She threw her napkin onto her plate and pushed back from the table. “Ye are obnoxious. That was no’ my fault.”
“Och, but cousin, that is where ye are wrong. ’Twas your fault. Ye were the one who hired the loon.”
“I obviously didna know she was a loon when I did so.”
Gil shrugged, but said nothing more.
“I am going to my room.”
“’Tis fine, but be ready to meet with your visitors in an hour. I dinna mind keeping them waiting. It weeds out those that arena serious. But anything longer than that just seems unnecessarily cruel and spiteful. And at this point, ye dinna need anything else tarnishing your reputation.”
Fists balled at her sides, she spun and met his eyes with an icy stare. “Ye truly are insufferable,” she ground out.
“Mayhap, but I am right.”
He picked up his book, effectively dismissing her.
Darn him and her situation. She was acting like a child, and she hated herself for it. She would not be able to accomplish anything if she kept up this countenance. Nay, she would get further with her cousin if she played nicer. Sweeter.
He always did fall for lasses that, to Willamina, seemed overly sweet and quiet in attitude.
Neither of those traits lived in her being. She was headstrong. Independent. She did not need to rely on anyone, except for what society forced upon her. In those instances, she had no choice.
In the hallway, she heard multiple voices in conversation, and she quickly hurried up the stairs to her room, closing the door softly behind her.
She fell upon the bed with a sigh and stared at the ceiling, studying the design on it. Swirls of paisley had been molded into the plaster and it was quite beautiful. Clearly, it was not something her cousin had commissioned. He did not seem the type to partake in such frivolities. He would probably state the monies it would take to commission such a task would be frivolous and unnecessary. More than likely, it was an aunt or uncle a generation or two back.
