Page 247 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Rhoslyn, it is a good match for him. He will be pleased. Do not worry.”

She snorted. “Ye are a terrible liar. He hates Scotland. I believe he dreams of you and him returning to England.”

Talbot regarded her. “There was a time you dreamed of me returning to England. Now you have married your stepdaughter to my captain.”

“Your captain is preferable to De Quincy.”

“Hmm,” Talbot intoned. “So it isn’t that you see our redeeming qualities, but simply that there is someone you perceive as being worse than we are.”

She stepped closer to him. “Nay. You are wrong. I...” Confusion washed across her features and Talbot read in her eyes fear for her grandfather’s life and anger that he had been hurt.

Talbot grasped her chin and tilted her face up toward him. “You...”

She reached for his shoulders, rose on tiptoes, kissed him, then drew back. “I am grateful that you are saving Andreana.”

He looked down at her. “Grateful?”

That was a start.

* * *

A knock sounded at the door and Rhoslyn jerked free of St. Claire’s embrace.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and Andreana entered. “Ye called for me, laird?”

“Aye, Lady Andreana.” He looked at Rhoslyn.

“Andreana, come, sit with me at the fire.”

The girl looked from Rhoslyn to him, brows drawn, but she did as Rhoslyn asked.

They sat and Rhoslyn took Andreana’s hand in hers. “There is no way to say this save directly.”

“What is it?” Andreana blurted. “Has Grandfather died?”

“Nay,” Rhoslyn quickly assured her. “Nothing like that. I am sorry. We didna’ mean to frighten you. Andreana, ye are to be married immediately.”

Andreana blinked. “Married?” She looked from Rhoslyn to St. Claire. “What has happened?”

“Lord Lochland wanted to betroth you to De Quincy,” St. Claire replied.

Andreana gasped.

“Your mother told him you were already wed to Sir Baxter.”

Rhoslyn squeezed her hand. “It was the only way. St. Claire says Sir Baxter is a good man. He is preferable to De Quincy, do ye no’ agree?”

“Aye,” Andreana said slowly. “It is just so...unexpected.” She looked again at St. Claire. “What does Sir Baxter think about being saddled with a Scottish wife?”

“He will consider himself fortunate,” Rhoslyn interjected.

Andreana gave her a gentle smile. “Sir Baxter has no more wish to marry a Scottish woman than ye did to marry an Englishman.”

“Andreana,” Rhoslyn remonstrated.

“Do not chide her for understanding the truth, Rhoslyn,” St. Claire cut in, then shifted his gaze to Andreana. “It is a good match for him, more than he could have hoped for at least another five years, maybe more. Aside from being intelligent and beautiful, you are an heiress. He will see the advantage in marrying you.”