Page 9 of The Lyon’s Lass

He turned to Hodge and whispered, “I can’t marry her.”

“Why’s that? It was the plan all along, it just happened faster than we’d expected. All the better, aye? Besides, she’s bonny. If she has the dowry she should do nicely,” Hodge said looking the woman—his bride—over as if she were chattel.

It was true that she looked far better than she had the night before, but he didn’t need to take on the burden of a woman who had a high taste for spirits.

“She’s the one who cast up her accounts on my silly slippers last night.”

Hodge frowned. “She looks quite proper to me.”

“She was dressed proper last night, but she was still foxed. You know well, that drink curses anyone who clings to it.”

Hodge nodded and looked toward the woman in black.

“She can’t make you marry a woman already married to the bottle. You’ll not have a wife with demons from blue ruin.”

“Nay. It wasn’t gin, but wine.”

His would-be bride stepped up, interrupting their whispered discussion.

“I can assure you it was the first and last time I ever drink so much wine again. Or perhaps ever.” Her slender hand came to rest on her stomach and her creamy skin darkened the slightest tinge of green.

“Lord Iain Douglas, Earl of Kesson, may I make known to you, your bride, Madalene Bennett.”

She dipped the slightest amount and he bowed as he’d been taught by his mother. When he rose, they simply stared at each other. Hodge cleared his throat calling his attention away from the woman he was to marry.

“The conditions,” Hodge whispered, reminding Iain that while he didn’t care much if the woman drank or didn’t, there was something she needed to have for his plans to work out.

“Right.” He turned to the woman who had forced him into this arrangement. “I trust she has what I need?”

“Yes. As agreed, thirty-thousand pounds. Enough to cover my fees, and still leave you a hefty sum.” The woman turned to his bride, Madalene. “The lady has a condition of her own.”

Madalene swallowed nervously before speaking.

“Yes. You see, I need to be able to bring my younger brother with me. It is imperative that you can provide a home for both my brother and I, together.”

Iain waited to see if there was more, but the lady simply folded her hands together in front of her and waited. Iain turned to Hodge who Iain blamed for getting him into this mess. The man simply shrugged.

“You’ll be moving to my castle in Scotland. You can bring whomever you wish.”

The woman’s gold eyes widened and she smiled. Seeing it stunned him briefly before she quelled it to bow again.

“Thank you, Lord Kesson.”

“No. Not Lord Kesson. Just Iain,” he told her. Not that he knew why he cared to set her straight. He wouldn’t be spending any time with her past getting her set up in the castle.

Madalene seemed startled by his demand but simply nodded.

“Thank you, Iain,” she corrected as a strange sensation fluttered in his chest. Perhaps it was only fear that he’d spend the rest of his time with her covered in vomit.

Chapter Five

The wedding was over quickly, and Maisy worried the vicar—who was brought up from the gaming tables—was too drunk to do it legally, but then he had them sign a register, and wished them happy blessings. It was just as Maisy had seen the minister do for Caroline’s nuptials and figured they were good enough.

She signed her name under her new husband’s unreadable scratch, and let out a breath. Whatever came next, she and Jack would be out of Nelson’s reach.

“Make ready The Rue for Scotland,” Iain ordered the man—Hodge he’d called him—who’d stood at his side while he’d said his vows.

“I will need to go to my home and collect my things and my brother,” she said a little sharply, for fear the man would choose not to honor his promise.