Page 1 of The Widow Wore Plaid

Chapter One

August 1818

Castle Kinellan, Near Strathpeffer, Scotland

Clear skies, as blue as the peaceful waters of a Scottish loch, stretched out above Gareth, Marquess of Kinellan as he stood waiting not so patiently in front of his home, Castle Kinellan. Unfortunately, the excellent weather gave him little pleasure, although it did make his task of greeting the final guest arriving for his annual family gathering less onerous. Rain would have been the last straw.

Standing beside him, Matthew, Lord Lathbury, his best friend and confidante, rocked back and forth on the heels of his tall Hessian boots, hands clamped behind his back, fuming at the delay this morning. Lathbury had never been a patient man.

“Whoever heard of arriving at eight o’clock in the morning on the next to the last day of festivities?” Lathbury groused. “No decent person would think of inconveniencing a fellow human being so. Had they decided to turn up two hours from now we would not have needed to cancel our ride.” Not being able to ride of a morning was sacrilege in his friend’s book.

“My relations, at least some of them, could scarcely be deemed decent, Lathbury.” Gareth pulled his mouth into a smile as the old black lacquered carriage he knew so well rattled across the bridge spanning the castle’s small moat, swept up the graveled driveway, and creaked to a stop in front of them. Until this moment he’d have wagered a good portion of his fortune that Aunt Pru’s decrepit carriage had fallen apart sometime since the last such gathering she’d attended. “My Aunt Prudence, while immanently decent, cannot by any stretch of the imagination be called accommodating.” He turned to the stilled carriage, waiting until the footman opened the door.

“Kinellan!” The shrill voice emanated from the coach the moment the door opened.

“Aunt Pru, how delightful to see you again.” He offered his hand and a stout older woman in a green dress that had been the first stare of fashion forty years ago emerged. Sporting a red plaid turban that matched his own kilt, Aunt Pru placed her soft, pudgy fingers in his hand and made her slow way down the three steps.

There would be more of the Seton red and green plaid seen at Kinellan this weekend than all the other days of the year combined.

“So wonderful you could make it this year, my dear. You look younger each time I see you.” The woman had been ancient when he had been a boy. God alone knew how old she actually was.

“Thank you, Kinellan. You were quite the flatterer when you were a boy and haven’t changed since.” She peered around the yard giving Lathbury a piercing look before asking, “But where is your lovely bride-to-be?”

Well, he’d expected that to be her first topic of conversation. “She is currently seeing to some of my other guests, Aunt Pru. I assure you, you will see her this evening at dinner if not before. May I instead present my friend Lord Lathbury? Lady Prudence Seton is my great-aunt, now the oldest living relative on my father’s side.”

“Good morning, young man.” Aunt Pru looked Lathbury up and down with a keen eye, assessing him as if he were a new horse she might acquire for her stable.

Lathbury grinned and seized her hand. With great show, he kissed the air just above her gloved knuckles. “A very great honor to meet you, my lady.”

“Scamp.” Aunt Pru pulled her hand from his grip but grinned back at him just the same. “I well believe you are a friend of Kinellan’s. Like natures seek out one another in my experience.” She snapped her gaze back to Gareth. “Please tell Lady John I wish a word with her sometime today, Kinellan.”

“I promise to tell her as soon as I see her, Aunt. Donal,” he called to a footman he had standing by, “please escort Lady Prudence to her room.” He handed her over to his most handsome footman, who sedately walked her into the castle.

“I swear she’ll outlive me yet.” Gareth shook his head. “I should go warn Jane now about the impending audience.” He turned toward the stout oak door.

Before he could take a step, Lathbury grabbed his shoulder, pulling him around to stare at him. “Wait a moment. What did she mean about your bride-to-be? Is there something you haven’t told me? Has Jane finally accepted you?”

Frowning, Gareth shrugged off his friend’s hand. “Hardly, even though I’ve asked her countless times since Christmas.” He glanced at the door, then nodded toward the manicured front lawn. “Let us take a turn about the property. I would not have this conversation overheard.”

“As you will.” Lathbury fell into step next to him and they made for the north end of the castle grounds. “So she has not, in fact, accepted you yet. Then why does your aunt think—”

“Because Aunt Pru is one of the worst gossips in all of Highland County if not in all of Scotland. Once I finally got Jane to come to Kinellan, I could hardly have her stay without sullying her reputation.” Gareth’s strides lengthened as he thought once more about the untenable situation in which he found himself. “So I invited my cousin, Fiona Dalrymple, to stay with me as my hostess and ostensibly as a companion for Jane. But even that was not enough for my aunt.” Gareth looked about and discovered Lathbury some three or four paces behind.

“Didn’t know we were in a race, Kinellan.” Lathbury caught him up.

Scowling, Gareth continued, though at a slower pace. “If Jane would only agree to marry me none of this subterfuge would be necessary. I begin to believe . . .”

“What?”

“That she will never have me.”

They walked in silence for some paces before Lathbury spoke up. “You remember, of course, the devilish time I had getting Fanny to say yes to me. She and most of her friends quite enjoyed the freedom widowhood brought them . . . for a time. However, as they are all now happily married, the independent state apparently palled for them at some point. I suspect it will eventually do so for Jane as well.”

“And in the meantime I have to obfuscate the issue until Jane deigns to accept me. When I wrote to invite my aunt to this gathering, I gave her to believe in strictest confidence—which I expected to last no time at all—that Lady John was soon to become Lady Kinellan. The impediment I put down to some paperwork dealing with the guardianship of her children that had to be rectified. She accepted that without a qualm.”

“And seems to still.”

“Yes, but that confidence was given to her at the beginning of May. I thought no harm in it because I believed I would be able to persuade Jane to marry me by now, despite her previous refusals. She was finally in residence at the castle—an epic battle in itself, I’ll have you know. But I could show her the property, impress her with the splendors of the Scottish Highlands, propose properly, and then we would be betrothed—indeed married by the time of the gathering—with Aunt Pru none the wiser.”