The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride (21 page)

BOOK: The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride
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‘I do if we intend to get out before lunchtime,’ she called from the next room. ‘When do we go?’

Fraser opened the door, which led into the garden. ‘Now.’

Would it be forward to suggest they ran, just in case anyone was around to thwart their plans?

‘Let’s run.’

‘I feel like I am an escaped prisoner or something,’ Morven panted as, the skirts of her habit held over her arm, they skirted the shrubbery and headed towards the stables by a circuitous route. Her hat was held on around her neck with its ribbons and bumped off her back with each step. ‘I expect a guard dressed like Mama to jump out from behind a tree and shout at us to stop.’

Fraser nodded. He’d had much the same thought himself. It was an uncomfortable feeling, almost as if he was in the wrong and he hadn’t been given any explanation as to what his transgression was. ‘Clap us in irons or demand we wed or don’t wed.’

‘Something like that,’ Morven agreed in a wheezy voice. ‘Though I’m not sure of the wed bit. In fact I’m not sure of anything any more. Except I am unfit and out of breath.’

Fraser slowed down. ‘Sorry,’ he said, contritely. ‘I was concerned we got away without being seen. We can slow down now, and reach the stables from the direction of the park not the house. Reconnoitre so to speak.’

‘Now I feel like a spy not a prisoner. Or both, maybe?’ Morven chuckled and Fraser was pleased to note her good humour was firmly in place. They came to the edge of the wood and he stopped abruptly.

‘This gets more interesting by the minute. Look.’ He pointed to the stable yard, which was clearly visible. If he hadn’t checked his watch
and
the hall clock he could have sworn his timekeeping was out by at least three hours.

‘It’s the stable yard,’ Morven said patiently, her voice puzzled. ‘What exactly am I looking at?’

‘A hive of activity.’

‘Isn’t it supposed to be? Feeding, mucking out, exercising?’ Morven said in a puzzled voice. ‘Doesn’t that happen here?’

‘Not so early. Usually at this time, if I have not said I will be riding at dawn it would be empty. I do not see the point of depriving people of sleep for no reason. There are plenty of hours in the day to achieve all that needs to be done. I said nothing, it is barely dawn and there are at least half a dozen grooms milling about.’ Fraser tugged Morven back into the shelter of the trees until he was sure no one who glanced in their direction would spot them. That nasty “something is amiss and beware” itch danced over his spine. ‘I’m the bloody laird here, so why am I not in the know?’

Morven blinked. ‘About?’

‘What is going on,’ Fraser expanded. Grief, he made as much sense as an addle-pated blade after a night in a drinking den. ‘For if this much work is needed at this time of day, something is amiss. And I have that beware tingle.’

Morven sat on a convenient log. ‘Can’t you just go and ask them?’

He shrugged. It was one answer, but not, he decided, the correct one. He’d never come the heavy-handed laird before and he didn’t intend to start now. He preferred the rule by persuasion method. ‘I could but how would that look? Oh the master is in the dark. Does he not have a grip on things? No, I’ll need to be subtle.’ He thought for a moment. ‘You could go though.’

‘Me?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Tell me what to do.’

Five minutes later Morven pursed her lips and inclined her head before she adjusted her riding hat and pulled on her gloves. ‘Right, I have that straight. You were going to meet me and my sister to ride and I can not find either of you. Yes?’

‘Perfect.’ Fraser nodded and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m getting more perturbed by the day. I wonder if I’m going to wake up back in Barbados and discover this is all a dream. And after the other day, I bloody well hope it’s not.’

She smiled. ‘It’s not,’ Morven said softly. ‘I won’t let it be. Now leave the rest to me.’

He wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused at the way she swapped topics so readily. He was pleased she picked things up so easily, of course he was, but sometimes he experienced the strange sensation of not quite being in control. Something new and he wasn’t sure if it agreed with him.

However, he had no other option than to leave the rest to her, Fraser thought, as Morven made her way through the trees, until it appeared she approached the stable yard from the castle. He watched, unobserved as for several minutes she had an earnest discussion with the head groom. Once she waved her arms in the air as if to demonstrate something, and the groom nodded, deferentially. Eventually, Morven inclined her head, patted his arm, and walked away, seemingly back the way she had come. As far as he could tell, no one took particular notice of her, and carried on with their duties. He didn’t have time to become restless, before she appeared beside him.

‘Shh,’ Morven warned him and put her hand over his mouth as he opened it to speak. She dragged him deeper into the wood, until they came to a tiny clearing, no more than four feet across, and leant against a fallen tree trunk with scant regard for her moss green riding habit.

‘Well that was informative.’ She patted the tree trunk next to her. ‘I noticed whilst I was there how sound carries and I didn’t want to risk us being overheard. Evidently the word is you are going to appear unexpectedly to inspect the stables. They seemed to assume I would be with you. Musson was quite put out when I said I had no idea what he was talking about, but I’d see if I could find you and discover why you hadn’t appeared. He then told me not to, begged me even, as it was supposed to be hush, hush.’

‘Then how the blazes did he hear about this alleged visit?’ Fraser stood up and paced. He had too much energy—annoyed, fired up, pent up energy—to sit. ‘The plot thickens.’

‘I rather got the impression your mama passed the information on, strictly unofficially, and he was not to let you know he knew,’ Morven said delicately. Her head swivelled to follow his path. ‘Fraser, stop it, you’re making me dizzy. What do we do now?’

He turned and stood in front of her, his expression one of unholy glee and speculation. ‘How do you feel about a little more play-acting?’

All for it, it seemed. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners and she chuckled. ‘Why, how, where and when?’

Fraser laughed at her obvious, over the top acting. ‘I do like eagerness.’

‘Oh good,’ Morven cooed the words and wiggled her eyebrows. ‘I’ll remember.’

He shook his head in amusement as he thought fast. Would it work? It was worth a try anyway. ‘Minx. So if they are expecting us, us they shall have. However, I think we’ll ask for the curricle and a groom. Oh so proper. As I am not exactly renowned for following the diktats of polite society, that will bewilder them. Can you think up a list of polite chit-chat subjects?’

Morven groaned. ‘That is something I have etched on my heart from my time in the season. I detest it, but for you, I will overcome my hatred. Then what?’

‘Follow my lead.’ In fact he wasn’t really sure how things would pan out. He intended to get to Wullie Curtin somehow, but he might now need to use deviousness not stealth.

****

She had to hand it to him, Fraser’s dealings with his head groom and the hive of activity they found was masterful. Within minutes he’d commended the state of the place asked for his curricle and a groom, and they were on their way openly down the long drive towards the lane.

Morven waited until they accessed the lane before she spoke. Her part in the scenario was limited, but she intended to play it to perfection. ‘Such a lovely morning, my lord, and it is so agreeable to be able to enjoy it thus.’ Out of the corner of her eye she watched Fraser supress a grin. He knew that such very correct speech was not usual from her. He winked. Encouraged, she pressed on. ‘After all, now, when the air is clear and no pesky midges are about to make my life a misery, is the perfect time of day. I do think midges spoil so much, don’t you?’

Fraser’s lips twitched. ‘Indubitably. Then we will take care not to go near the loch.’ As they had planned he turned the curricle onto another track and skirted a large field dotted with highland cattle. It was, she knew, one of the few larger herds in the area. Most people stuck to sheep with perhaps only a house cow or two to provide milk and an alternative to ewe’s cheese.

‘The calves look so pretty, and then they grow up all big and hairy.’ Morven mentally rolled her eyes at such a stupid statement. ‘But really, I mustn’t moan. I enjoy the milk and the cheese and—’ she gave what she hoped was a realistic shudder ‘—the meat.’

This trying to portray a not a care in the world, nothing between the ears deb was wearing. Thankfully, if all went to plan it wouldn’t be for long. Pleased with her efforts so far, Morven sat back and twirled the ribbons on her jacket. The ones that would be tightly knotted if she were on horseback. However in lieu of a parasol to play with—that hadn’t been thought necessary when they’d made their hurried exit from the castle—and the fact she needed to keep her hands occupied, they had to do. She counted to three hundred in her mind and took a deep breath. ‘Speak as we pass the three rowan trees in a row,’ Fraser had told her. They were fast approaching them.

‘Do you have any destination in mind, my lord, or may we stop and walk for a moment?’ she asked in a demure tone. ‘Such lovely wild flowers.’ Weeds, she thought, but who would realise she understood the difference? Really, it was well the groom was someone whom she didn’t know, so presumably he didn’t know her. Meek and mild really didn’t describe her personality at all.

Beside her Fraser twitched. ‘We’ll stroll here. McGurl can walk the horses for us.’ He pulled over to one side, and waited until McGurl went to the horses’ heads. Only then did Fraser jump down and lift Morven to the ground. ‘In fact,’ he said as if the idea had just come to him. ‘It might be as well if you head to home farm and get the eggs for the castle, McGurl, and save anyone going later. Meanwhile, I’ll take Lady Morven to see the Fairy Stone and we’ll meet you by the old cemetery in an hour or so.’ If Fraser’s instructions contradicted anything McGurl had been told by anyone else he had the sense not to say so. He touched his cap and jumped up onto the seat of the curricle.

Fraser stood back and watched the equipage turn the corner before he held his arm out to Morven, his expression one of unholy glee. ‘Come, we have just enough time to do all we need.’

Morven ignored the correct grip and instead turned her hand into his. ‘I can repeat chapter and verse on the Fairy Stone as long as it hasn’t changed,’ she said as they approached a long stone wall. She held her skirts up, just enough not to drag and catch on the tussocks that dotted the uneven ground, and pretended not to see Fraser’s eyes widen and his expression become one of devilish appreciation.

‘Merely more weathered,’ he commented. ‘You would of course note the moss on the northern side needs clearing away.’

She nodded as they began to walk along the grassy track that edged a wall, which barred the way between them and a field. ‘That’s acceptable, if I need to comment I can do. So we can ignore it and do what we really need to. How do we get to Wullie Curtin’s from here?’

Fraser indicated a stile into the tiny triangular-shaped field they had reached. ‘Across Katysfield, and his cottage is just beyond the copse. A five-minute walk, no longer.’

Morven searched her mind. ‘Oh I remember now. Katysfield, where old Katy Drummond kept her chickens and geese.’

‘That’s it, although Katy and her poultry are long gone. Her granddaughter Cate now looks after all the fowl at the home farm.’ He climbed the stile and held out his arms to help her over. ‘Half a mile or so out of the village down the valley.’

Did his palms linger a second or two too long on her waist as he helped her down to the stony path? Morven couldn’t tell, as once she
was
on terra firma, he moved his hands and kept her at a decorous distance, her fingers firmly on top of his tweed-clad arm. She missed the closeness they had enjoyed a few moments earlier. However, one look at his face told her not to push him, but nevertheless a little imp inside her decided prodding was necessary.

‘This seems incredibly formal for a stroll across a field.’ She indicated their position. ‘Almost as if we are in Hyde Park or about to enter a ball under the eagle eyes of the ton.’

They walked another five paces before Fraser replied. ‘That’s as may be, and I agree it makes me feel ridiculous, but as I swear at least six pairs of eagle eyes of the villagers will be firmly fixed on our perambulations now we are in view of several cottages, it’s better we do this.’

Morven did her best to look towards the road without moving her head. She failed. ‘How do you know? You can’t see twitching curtains from here, surely?’

He laughed. ‘I know my people.’ They reached the far side of the field and this time it was a kissing gate to navigate. Fraser held it open. ‘It’s a pity we are on view. Otherwise I would utilise this gate as it is meant to be. So, hold that thought, please.’ He stood back to let Morven precede him. ‘And as I hoped here’s Wullie come to meet us.’ A tall giant of a man, his hair redder, more flaming than Fraser’s, strode over the uneven tussocks towards them, his arms held out in welcome.

‘There, laddie-laird, didnae I say to my Jessie you’d be back?’ He buffed Fraser on the back hard enough to make a lesser man stagger. Fraser returned the embrace, and looked towards Morven.

‘This is…’

‘Och, I ken fine who it is.’ Wullie pulled her into a bear hug. ‘I’m not likely to forget such a bonnie lassie. Come away in.’ Wullie took hold of Morven’s hand and tucked it into his overlarge one, and encircled her with his other arm. She swore her feet left the ground as he almost frogmarched them back the way he’d appeared. Behind them Fraser chuckled. No doubt he was getting an eyeful of her ankles.

Ah well,
she thought philosophically,
he’s seen much more.

‘Miss Morven, you’re back as well. You’ll be his lady for real now then eh? It’s been a long time coming. My you’ve changed. Grown into yoursel’ as they say.’

Morven opened her mouth to contradict Wullie as they turned the corner of a tidy thatched low building, but didn’t have a chance as he bellowed at the top of his voice.

BOOK: The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride
8.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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