Page 32 of The Lyon Deception

Seeing her worried expression the nearer to Bonnyrigg they came, Uncle James sought to reassure her. “I will speak with your father. He will listen to me.”

“What if he refuses to allow me to marry?”

“He can’t. You are of age.”

“He still might try.”

James patted her hand. “He will be angry, of course he will be. But once he understands the situation, he will calm down.”

“You don’t think he will really challenge Sinclair to a duel?” she said, glancing toward the small square of window. Sinclair was outside stretching his legs before the last leg of their journey. His fair hair shone in a burst of sunlight, and he smiled as he and Jennie chatted.

“No, I don’t. He is more likely to use his fists.”

Cat wailed.

“I won’t let him hurt the lad,” James said quickly. Then, smiling, “You are very fond of him, aren’t you? I wasn’t sure at first, but I can see you are both good for each other. It would be a good match.”

“As long as Lord Armytage agrees,” she said grumpily.

James patted her hand as he rose to his feet. “Don’t run off if he says no,” he said. “I will think of something. You don’t want your father and brothers chasing you both all over the country.”

No, she didn’t want that. But neither did she want to abandon Sinclair. She loved him. Perhaps she had loved him from the first, just as he had her. The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable. Somehow she would have to make her family understand that, and accept him into their fold.

When they arrived at Bonnyrigg Castle, the MacKenzie family had congregated inside the front door to escape the drizzle. Cat could see that Sinclair was nervous, but he held himself straight. They entered into the great hall, the fire blazing in the great hearth and the weapons fixed to the walls gleaming with polish. Everyone was welcomed and glasses of whisky were handed out. No one seemed to have any trouble with Sinclair being there—perhaps they thought he was some friend from London.

It was when it came time for the introductions that the trouble began.

“Who did you say this was?” Rory shouted, his face as red as his hair. “The Master of Armytage? Did I hear ye right, Uncle James?”

“The Master?” Callum repeated, dark eyes blazing. “Why would you bring such a creature into our home?”

“The Master!” The title was then repeated over and over again. Even Henrietta shouted it out, hands on her hips and stamping her little shoe.

Everyone moved in closer, converging on poor Sinclair until they had him surrounded. Uncle James was pulling Maxwell away when he tried to join in, his mouth moving as he hurriedly offered explanations and excuses. But it was Cat’s brothers who were the real problem. Tempers flared, even Donal was in the thick of it, clutching a handful of Sinclair’s fashionable green jacket.

Cat forced a path through the bulky bodies, elbowing them until they moved out of her way. Until finally she was able to set herself in front of Sinclair.

She gave Rory a hard shove. “Leave him be!” she cried. “Back off!”

“Are you a wee nut?” Rory shouted. “This is the man who’s trying to ruin us!”

“No, he isn’t!” Cat shouted back. It was the only way to be heard above the racket they were all making. “The man who is trying to ruin us is his grandfather. This is Lord Armytage’s grandson, and I am going to marry him.”

There was instant silence, and it made Cat’s ears ring. Rory’s mouth was still open and his eyes were shocked. It wasn’t the ideal way to tell her family, but it was too late now.

Cat felt Sinclair’s hands clasp her waist, and he tried to move her to the side. “You don’t need to protect me, Cat,” he said, eyeing her brother warily.

“Aye, I do,” she retorted, slipping in front of him again. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Marry him?” Donal demanded, staring from one to the other. “Oh no you won’t, Cat. Over my dead body.”

“If it comes to that!” she spluttered in frustration. “Will you just listen to me, all of you!”

But they were shouting again, wanting to know what hold he had over her to be able to force her into wedlock, and promising all sorts of retribution if a wedding came about.

Finally Maxwell waded into the melee. “Enough!” he roared. “Will you listen to me, you blethering gowks!”

Maxwell was used to being listened to, and everyone finally settled down and prepared to do so, although some of them not at all willingly. Uncle James caught Cat’s eye and gave her a nod, and she hoped that meant Sinclair was safe from attack for now at least.