Page 11 of The Lyon’s Lass

“Who the bloody hell are you?” the man spat.

In this situation, Iain thought it better to use his title.

“I am the Earl of Kesson. I’ve married your sister this evening, and we will be leaving within the hour.”

“Married?” he said, and turned a glare at his sister, shoving her slightly when he released her. “Whatever were you thinking marrying him?”

“I was thinking that you will be looking for a wife, since you will soon be the new Lord Prevose. You won’t want Jack and me in the way as you set up your new family.”

“You’re taking Jack?” The man scoffed when he spoke, as if it was unheard of.

“Yes,” she answered, allowing no room for argument.

“Fine. Be gone with both of you.” The man waved and turned toward the stairs as if to go back to his bed.

Iain cleared his throat.

“There’s the matter of your sister’s dowry.”

The man smiled evilly as he turned around again.

“Ah. So we have it. This hasty marriage is one of money.”

“Our marriage—hasty or otherwise—is none of your concern. Her dowry is owed to me legally as her husband and a peer of the realm.”

“Of course.” He waved his hand toward the hall. “Far be it from me to withhold funds from the poor sot willing to take a spinster and a cripple off my hands.”

Iain might have punched the lout for the disrespect to his sister, but Madalene stepped closer and shook her head.

“Thank you, brother,” she said, the picture of civility the man didn’t deserve.

Iain followed his reluctant brother-in-law to the study and watched quietly as he extracted a book and wrote out a draft for the sum. He held it out between his forefinger and middle finger, and Iain knew what it was. He’d seen lesser men play the superior by making a man lurch for payment. Iain was beyond being shamed by a man of this nature.

He caught the slip of parchment deftly when the man let it go before Iain had grasped it.

“Thank you, my lord,” Iain said in much the same way his wife had. Placating the bastard.

Lord Blakehall turned to Madalene. “Neither you or Jack are welcome back here again. Do not think to cast your shadow on my doorstep when this… arrangement goes sour. You are not my problem any longer.”

Madalene nodded and grabbed Iain’s hand to pull him from the room. Iain wondered if her haste was because she feared Iain would say something or because she feared she would herself.

It didn’t matter, by the time they got back to the foyer, a disgruntled looking Jack was there and the last of their things was being carried out to the carriage.

When they reached Kesson House, Iain instructed the footman to take in the necessities for the morning, and route the rest of the trunks to the shipyard to be put aboard The Rue.

Inside, he had his housekeeper take Madalene and Jack to their rooms.

“Get your rest. We’ll be getting up with the sun to get to the ship.”

Jack’s gaze narrowed again but it looked confused rather than angry this time. He shook his head toward his sister who spoke slowly.

“Get some rest. We’re leaving at dawn.”

Jack nodded and followed Mrs. McNeil up the stairs. He went to the study to gather the ledgers and other official-looking documents he may need to prove his claim on Kesson Castle. Then after a glass of whisky he found his own bed and fell into it.

He had a wife, a castle, and a plan.

Chapter Six