Never Kiss a Scot: The League of Rogues - Book 10 Page 7

  “Joanna, about what happened today…”

  She held up a hand. “No. You do not get to lecture me. Not after how you behaved. You threw Lord Kincade out.”

  Her brother bristled. She was one of the few people who could actually penetrate Ashton’s naturally calm demeanor.

  “He was kissing you! What if it had been our mother or one of the other guests? You would be ruined! You would have to marry him, and a cloud of shame would fall upon you, upon all of us, like”

  “If you say like Father, I warn you” She was not like their father. He had gambled and lost their fortunes when she had been young. The shame and scandal had driven their father to an early grave. It’d taken years for their mother to piece their social lives back together, and Ashton had borne the duty of restoring their fortune by what means he could. It had made him somewhat ruthless in the world of business, and sometimes that ruthlessness followed him home.

  “I know you aren’t like Father, but Joanna, you must see it from my perspective. You were kissing a stranger, and his hand was up your skirts and…” Ashton’s face turned red as he seemed to realize he was going into too much unnecessary detail about her encounter with Brock.

  “I can do what I please.” Ice dripped from Joanna’s words, even though her whole body tensed with the thought of how ruined ladies had no real life. “It’s not as though I have any real prospects for marriage, is it?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth. You’ve been trying to bribe men from here to Paris with a hefty dowry, and it isn’t enough, is it? I’m unmatchable.” The words, despite calmly coming from her own lips, still stung. Ashton’s echoing look of dread and regret sealed the coffin of her own dreams.

  “That isn’t true,” he hedged.

  “Isn’t it? Three seasons, Ashton. Three.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

  “So you’ll turn into a petulant child because you haven’t found a decent match?” he shot back, his control lost.

  “Petulant child?” she hissed, and hopped off her bed so she could stand toe to toe with her brother.

  “Yes. You’re throwing a fit because you don’t have a husband.” His gaze narrowed. “Fine, why don’t you marry him? Go home with him to his crumbling castle in the cold drafts and be used by that brute for your money.”

  Brute? The man who held her so tenderly, who kissed her like she was a delicate snow flower blooming in an early spring? That man was far from brutal.

  “Just because he is larger than you”

  “He’s not refined, Joanna. You deserve a gentle husband.”

  Not refined? He’d danced with her more smoothly, more elegantly than any man she’d danced with before. His feet had seemed to float, and she had floated with him, spinning in dizzying circles and smiling as she truly enjoyed dancing for the first time in her life. He’d made her feel like herself, like she was worth something. That had meant everything to her. How Ashton could be so dismissive of him she couldn’t understand.

  “Get out of my room,” she growled. “Out! Or I will not come to your wedding tomorrow.”

  Ashton stared at her, stunned. Joanna had never hated herself more than at that moment. She was indeed being a petulant child. But it was so unfair. A man kissed a woman and was praised for his seductive skills, but a woman was chastised for her sin of wanting passion, of wanting to be loved.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it.”

  Ashton cleared his throat. “I know. I couldn’t get married if you weren’t there to see it, little sister.” He cupped her face and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “We both let our tempers get the best of us. I only want to see you happy, and Kincade is not the answer. Give me more time to find you a good man here in England.”

  Joanna sniffed. That wave of helpless despair seemed to crash over her again, hard enough to knock her down. This time, when Ashton left, Joanna made up her mind.

  He may not love me now, but Brock will grow to love me, with time. I’m sure of that.

  Tomorrow, after the wedding in Hampshire, while everyone was celebrating and Ashton and Rosalind were in the midst of wedded bliss, she and Brock would race to Gretna Green.

  7

  Brock watched the rain droplets travel down the glass window of the coach as he and Rosalind rode toward the chapel in Hampshire. She looked resplendent in her fine gown as she laced and unlaced her fingers nervously. Brock reached over and covered her hands with one of his.

  “You dinna have to do this, Rosalind. I can help you escape.”

  She laughed, her eyes suddenly brightening. “I want to do this, Brock. I have no doubts about marrying Ashton. I am feeling nervous, though. What if he changes his mind? What if he does not want me?”

  “If he tries to flee the church, Brodie, Aiden, and I will hunt him down.” He smiled as he said this, but he was completely serious. He’d be more than happy to drag that blond bastard down the aisle at pistol point to wed Rosalind if that’s what she wanted.

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Rosalind chuckled but then grew serious. “I heard you and Ashton quarreled yesterday during the tea. What did you fight about?”

  Brock slid a finger under his collar, tugging on it as it felt suddenly tight.

  “Er… Well… Joanna.”

  “Joanna? What did you do?” Rosalind demanded.

  “I didn’t do anything.” Well, not anything worth confessing to his sister. She didn’t need those kinds of details.

  “Then why were you arguing?”

  “Lennox wants me to leave Joanna be. He thinks of me as a brute and that I’m unworthy of her.” Brock leaned back against the cushions of the couch, trying not to let his embarrassment show.

  Rosalind’s brow furrowed. “Surely not.”

  “Aye, he does.”

  “Well, I shall speak to him,” she said.

  “No, leave it alone,” Brock warned. “You’ve other things to think about today, like marriage to that Sassenach.”

  Rosalind laughed at his scowl, but he didn’t mind. He wanted her to be happy, and he wanted her not to worry about him or Joanna.

  The coach stopped in front of the little church close to Lennox House. The rain was still coming down as Brock exited the coach, borrowing an umbrella from the coach’s attendant to shield Rosalind and her pretty wedding gown. Then they entered the church together arm in arm.

  The pews were filled with people Brock recognized from the tea the day before. The wedding party and their guests had all traveled the previous evening from Bath to Hampshire. Brodie and Aiden were in the front pew on the left, smiling as he and Rosalind walked toward Ashton. Brock gave his sister’s arm a gentle squeeze to reassure her that all was well. Lennox, damn his eyes, looked as pleased as a cat who’d recently fed on a bowl of cream.

  Brock handed Rosalind over to Lennox and gave the man a small nod to show he was approving the marriage and then joined his brothers. Rafe, Joanna’s other brother, stood in the front pew watching the proceedings. He and Brock shared an amiable nod. Unlike Ashton, Rafe and Brock got along rather well. A reckless Englishman always got along better with a wild Scot, at least in Brock’s view.

  Halfway through the ceremony, he caught sight of Joanna in the right-hand side of the pews. She wore a deep-gold gown, just like what she had described yesterday. His body hummed as his memories of those sweet stolen kisses flooded back to him. Yes, he had been “escorted” from Lennox’s house yesterday over the matter, but it had been worth it to have had a few moments alone with Joanna.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, and their eyes met. Her face pinkened, accenting her delicately carved features, including the tempting curve of her mouth. Loose tendrils of pale-blonde hair teased her shoulders and neck in a careless way that made his blood hum at the thought of putting his lips to those same places.

  She gave him a strange look, intense and focused, but he could not read her mind. Then
she turned back to watch the rest of the ceremony, and Brock did the same.

  After the wedded couple passed by the guests and climbed into their waiting coach, Brock lingered behind, sending his two brothers on ahead. Joanna was at her mother’s side, but she slowly drifted toward him, casually greeting and thanking guests as they passed by her until she and Brock were among the last few people left in the church.

  “Are you all right, lass?” he asked quietly when they were reasonably alone. “I didna want to leave you yesterday, but I didna have much of a choice.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I’m all right.” She paused, her face turning red as she met his gaze. “I changed my mind, Lord Kincade. If the offer still stands…I would like to marry you.”

  Brock was nearly struck down by her unexpected words. It took him a moment to compose himself. During that time, Joanna’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned her face away.

  “If you don’t wish to marry me anymore, I understand,” she said, her tone heavy with humiliation, and it burned him.

  Didn’t wish to? He wanted nothing more than to marry her.

  “After what my brother did…”

  He grasped her waist, pulling her to him and pressing his forehead to hers. “Lass, there is nothing that can stop me from making you my wife, so long as you wish it as well. I was merely surprised since you said no before.”

  Her lashes fluttered, and she trembled against him. “I do want to now.”

  He cupped her cheek and lifted her face so he could see her eyes. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I want to marry you, Lord Kincade.”

  “Brock,” he corrected gently.

  “Badger,” she said, smiling and sniffling. He chuckled, remembering how when they’d first met she’d told him his name meant badger.

  “Yes. Your badger,” he vowed. What would she think when she learned that Aiden had a pet badger at the castle? It was one he had rescued as a young cub. The badger now trundled about the castle as if it were the true master of it, nesting in various rooms and becoming grumpy whenever disturbed. Aiden had tried several times to return it to the wild, but the stubborn creature had held its ground. Brock smiled, realizing he was much like his namesake. He would not let Lennox chase him away from Joanna.

  “How do we do this?” she asked him. “Ashton won’t give his permission. I suppose we must race to Gretna Green.”

  “Aye,” Brock sighed. “It willna be easy, Joanna. We will have to travel light. No carriages, no servants. Once we are wed, we can send for your maid and your clothes.”

  “No coach?” Joanna’s eyes grew wide, and he remembered what she had said about riding. She liked it, but being alone on a horse made her a little uneasy.

  “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Do you have a strong horse here? I have mine stabled, and we could take yours for you if you have a beast you trust to ride.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I have a mare named Kaylee. She’s a steady ride, and she’s fast.”

  “Good.” Brock could handle the care of two horses so long as Joanna could ride hers. “It will be two or three days on horseback, as long as the weather holds and we don’t have much more of this rain.”

  He glanced out the front door of the church, wishing the clouds would disappear. The last thing he wanted was to put Joanna in harm’s way by risking that she catch her death in the rain.

  “He will come after us,” Joanna said. “Once he realizes we are gone.”

  “I know. He’s tenacious, that one, but if we leave tonight, while he’s focused on Rosalind, he will not know we’re missing until it’s too late.”

  “Tonight? So soon?” Her voice rose in pitch, and he could feel her tremble in his arms again. The lass was frightened; he could see that now.

  “We dinna have to go tonight, but it would be the easier way. Your brother is distracted with his new bride, which gives us only a short period of time.”

  “Yes, I see.” Joanna burrowed into him, suddenly resting her body against his in the most wonderful way. He caught the scent of flowers when he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Rubbing his palms down her back, he tried to offer her warmth and comfort.

  “It will be all right,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

  She nodded against his chest and pulled away. “We should go. I’ll need to prepare. There must be something I can bring?”

  “Aye, you may bring a small sack, something I can tie to the saddles. When everyone is finishing up dinner, we should say our good nights. When they retire, we can slip away to the stables and go.”

  “Will your brothers come with us?” she asked.

  “No, I’ll leave them here. Brodie will tell anyone who asks that I came down with a cold.”

  “I’ll tell my mother I’m having some female troubles. Ashton wouldn’t bother me if he thought that was the case.” Joanna’s eyes were bright again as she eagerly schemed.

  “That’ll do just fine,” Brock assured her. “Now let’s return to the house before we’re noticed.” He led her down to the last remaining coach outside the church, which was thankfully empty of other guests.

  When they reached Lennox’s manor home, he watched Joanna rush up the stairs. She chanced a look back at him, smiling. It hit him in the stomach, sending a blast of butterflies up in its wake. What a beauty she was. And soon she would be his.

  He went in search of his brothers, finding them in the billiard room with some of Ashton’s companions.

  “Kincade, there you are,” Lonsdale said, his grin accompanied by an all-knowing smirk.

  “Here I am,” he echoed, smiling back at Lonsdale but not betraying anything to the English earl.

  Brodie and Aiden met his gaze, and he flicked his eyes to the fireplace. They picked up on his silent message and continued to play their game of billiards while he poured himself a glass of whiskey and waited by the fire. Aiden came first, pretending to want a glass himself. They sipped quietly for a time before Brock spoke up.

  “I’m leaving tonight and taking Joanna with me. You and Brodie must stay here. I’ll tell Brodie to tell anyone who asks that I’ve come down with a cold and am staying in bed.”

  Aiden’s eyes widened at Brock’s whispered plans, but he only gave a tiny nod to show he understood. Aiden calmly walked over to the window, and a few minutes later Brodie joined Brock and was given the same instructions.

  “That’s quite a risk, brother,” Brodie said. “Is the lass worth it? We both know Lennox would shoot you if he had half a chance.”

  “Aye, that he would, but ’tis only fair. He married our sister. I shall marry his.”

  Brodie chuckled. “I dinna think the English see it that way.”

  “Probably not. They’re not as civilized as we are.”

  “You truly like the lass?” Brodie pressed. “We’ve barely seen her since we arrived.”

  “I’ve seen her plenty,” Brock assured him. “She’s perfect.” Perfect in every way a man could ever hope for a woman to be. She was intelligent, amusing, tender, yet fierce and lovely. He cleared his throat, not wanting Brodie to see his weakness, and he added, “She has money, too. Money that’s not simply a dowry—she has her own money in trust.”

  His brother narrowed his eyes. “Not thinking to marry her because of her money, are you?”

  “No, I want her. But having a wealthy wife would be a good thing.”

  “Hmm.” Brodie sipped his drink rather than argue.

  Brock stayed in the billiard room, making small talk with the men until dinner, and then he made his excuses, saying he felt unwell.

  Joanna would attend dinner, while he saw that her clothes and her belongings were taken to the stables. It was important that she be seen with the guests while he was absent. It would strengthen their story and also keep at bay any suspicions off them running off together. If they were both missing from dinner, Lennox would notice and possibly guess their plan. But if he went to his marriage bed with
out any suspicions, being newly wed would certainly keep him occupied. It galled Brock to think of his sister sharing Lennox’s bed, but he was relieved to have the man distracted.

  As he left the billiard room, he went upstairs to find Joanna’s room and take the bags if she had them ready. They were in for a long, cold, and rainy night.

  8

  Joanna stared at the bag on her bed. The leather had been oiled by one of the footmen so as to prevent rain from soaking into it and damaging any of the bag’s contents.

  “Will it do, miss?” her maid asked. Julia had talked discreetly to one of the footmen she knew, asking him for a bag that would travel well during poor weather. The young man had smartly insisted on preparing the bag for any rain, and Joanna had been incredibly grateful.

  “I think so.” Joanna’s heart gave a nervous flip as she opened the bag’s mouth wider so she could review the contents again. Three days’ worth of dresses with ankle-length skirts to avoid mud and dust from the road, and one riding habit, which she’d wear tonight along with her best cloak. Even though it was a warm summer, rain could make anyone cold. Two pairs of sensible boots, one pair of black slippers, three fresh pairs of stockings, and two pairs of chemises and petticoats. She could survive with one set of stays until they reached Scotland and buy new ones once they were married. She also packed her pearl gilt hairbrush and comb, several ribbons, hair pins, and one book, Lady Jade’s Wild Lord. It seemed fitting to take that book, the one that had led to such a wild and unexpected kiss in the library between her and Brock a month ago. She would finally have her own wild lord.

  “Oh, miss, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Julia whispered.

  Joanna smiled at the use of the word we. When she’d first confessed her plan to go to Gretna Green, she’d expected her young maid to try to stop her or disagree. Julia was only four years older than Joanna, after all. But Julia had all but swooned as she listened to Joanna’s plan.

  “I believe it’s time for me to make my own fortunes, Julia. Ashton’s had no luck finding me a husband, and I am tired of waiting for my future to come to me.”