Page 7 of No Rogue Like You (Rogues of Redemption #3)

D id she just really agree to marry Lord Primrose? After saying she would not remarry? Aye, aye she did. His proposal made sense. It did save her from her cousin. And it apparently saved him, but from what, she knew not. Just like he did not know all of her past, nor did she his.

“Wait!” Lord Primrose called before they returned to the house. He leaned in low and whispered in her ear. “Since we have a deal, we must shake on it.”

He spoke so close to her ear that his warm breath sent goosebumps across her skin. She straightened, trying not to show the effect he had on her, and nodded. “I do believe ye are correct, my lord.” She stuck her hand out, and Lord Primrose looked as if he was a bit shocked that she agreed to the gesture.

He clasped her hand and pulled her ever so closer. “Soon, ye will be calling me Finlay, my lady .” He smirked as they shook hands to seal their deal.

Och, Finlay Primrose was going to be hard to resist. But she refused to suffer another marriage similar to her first. She would not be made a fool of.

Not ever again.

Entering into a false marriage saved her assets, and her heart. For the offer, she would be forever grateful to Finlay Primrose.

When they entered the parlor, the other men began to crowd around her, and she shrank back. She really just wanted them all to take their leave.

“Buchanan,” Finlay called. “May I have a word?”

Gil nodded.

“In private.”

“We can go to my study if that will suffice?”

“’Twill.” He turned to her and must have seen the look of distress on her face. “Joan. I do believe Lady Watson may have overheated in the sun. Mayhap ye can bring her to her room to recover?”

If Finlay Primrose was always going to be this thoughtful and kind taking her needs into consideration, it may not be so hard to fake their relationship. She mouthed her thanks to him and she curtsied to the waiting men and left the room, Joan close on her heels, ignoring their mumbles of annoyance.

She cared not. Once again, she hoped they would all leave.

“My lady,” Joan said once they were back in Willamina’s room with the door shut behind them. “Ye appear fine to me. Is there something ye need?”

Willamina laughed. “Nay, Joan. Thank ye. ’Twas just a ploy by Lord Primrose to get me out and away from that den of wolves.”

Her maid sighed. “I do wish Sir Battersby returned. I verra much enjoyed speaking with him.”

Willamina gave her a knowing smile. “I could see that.” She moved to the small sofa that was set near the window overlooking the gardens and patted the seat beside her. “Come sit and tell me all about him.”

Joan flushed, unsure if she should or not.

“Joan, while I appreciate all of your help and service, it doesna mean that we canna have any conversations on other topics. Now come.”

Reluctantly, her maid dropped down beside her. “I know he was here to call upon ye, so I mean no disrespect.”

“Pfft!” Willamina waved her hand in dismissal. “Absolutely none taken, Joan. Sir Battersby, as sweet as he seemed, would ne’er make a good match for me. He is much too young. But,” she said conspiratorially, “he did appear to be rather smitten with ye.”

Joan’s already pink cheeks turned a deep red. “It canna be, but I enjoyed our conversation. And he is verra handsome,” she added.

“He is, isna he? Mayhap we can invite him over for dinner one evening.”

Joan shook her head. “Oh, I dinna believe that is a good idea, my lady. He was telling me he has a duty to find a wife.”

“Aye,” Willamina prodded.

“Well, as ye know, my lady, he is a baron. I am a maid. ’Tis no’ meant to be. But I will forever treasure our talk.”

“I would ne’er rule anything out, Joan. Sometimes things happen and take us by surprise. A match between ye both is not entirely out of the realm of possibility.”

Joan stood, ready to dismiss herself. “I thank ye for your kind words, my lady. E’en if things are not meant to happen, the hope of a dream is always something to cling to.” She curtsied. “I will return to get ye dressed for dinner this eve.”

Willamina stood and went to the window, not the one that overlooked the garden, but the one that overlooked the gravel drive.

One by one, she watched as her callers left Buckwood Manor, thankfully for the last time. Or at least the last time that they would be here to call on her. As long as her cousin accepted Lord Primrose’s request to marry her. She worried her lip between her teeth. What if Gil denied the request? She refused to believe that was a possibility. Lord Primrose was a very good match. Her cousin would see that and agree.

She could then leave this place. Would she be back in Inverness? Nay, but to be out from the watchful eye of Gil would be present enough. And he would no longer have any say about her assets. Something that made her happy. Because she had no doubt if she dragged her feet finding a husband, he would take control of everything that rightfully belonged to her and hide her away somewhere.

She couldn’t let that happen. She had no choice. Lord Primrose was truly her salvation.

After the things that life had forced onto her, she did not really believe in fate.

But bumping into Lord Finlay Primrose at the maze at the garden party of Sir Forthington could have been naught but fate.

So she would accept it as such and move on.

Now she just waited for Gil to come talk to her. Knowing that she would have to convince him that she was in love with Lord Primrose after only a few days. Especially after stating repeatedly that she did not want to marry. It was a large task, but she was certain she could make it believable.

After all, she had lied her way through her first marriage and everybody believed she and Gerard were a match.

Ofttimes, people only saw what they wanted to. And when it came to her and Gerard’s marriage, there were no better liars than she and her late husband. To the outside world, they were the happiest of couples.

But behind closed doors, it was naught but hell for Willamina. Gerard was happy as could be, of course. Everything played out exactly as he wanted it. As if the world was an orchestra and he was its maestro.

She looked around the room. A place that, if their plan worked, she would escape in the near future. Och, what she would give to be able to listen to the conversation currently happening between Gil and Primrose.

Needing to escape the confines of her room and to get her mind off of whatever was happening in Gil’s study, Willamina made her way to the library. Not overly large, but the room was cozy, with two leather loungers that felt like clouds when you sat upon them. She scanned the shelves, letting her fingertips trail along the leather bindings, searching for something that would hold her interest.

Most of the included works were either military, scientific, or biology. Not her favorite subjects. A smaller case in the corner held books she found far more interesting. She had already read The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling , but snagged it anyway. She enjoyed the story and it would hopefully get her mind off of whatever was happening down the hall.

Straining her ears, she tried to hear their voices, but no sound made its way to the library.

She had gotten so lost in her reading, that she didn’t hear the two men approach, and jumped when Finlay cleared his throat from the doorway.

“It has been settled. In two weeks’ time, ye will become Lady Primrose.” Finlay beamed at her after making the announcement.

Her heart jumped to her throat. She was thrilled at the thought that he and Gil had come to an agreement. This was the outcome she needed, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

“Gil and I have agreed that the ceremony will be held at Rosewood Manor.” He approached and took her hands in his, squeezing them gently as he pulled her to her feet. With strong arms he enveloped her in a warm hug, burying his face in her hair. “Ye’re going to make me the happiest man alive,” he whispered near her ear.

She shivered, despite the fact that she knew he was only saying it to convince Gil that their feelings were genuine.

He pulled away and she immediately felt a chill at his absence.

“I shall take my leave. Ye have a wedding to plan.” He winked at her and her stomach fluttered. “I mentioned it to Gil, but ye need to ken as well. I am giving ye an open-ended budget to plan whatever ye want for the wedding. Make it as extravagant as ye want. I shall see ye on the morrow.”

And with that he was gone, leaving Willamina to try to make heads or tails of all the different emotions she was feeling.

*

“I dinna believe ye are getting married. Especially after showing no interest in doing so,” Fingal complained two days later.

Finlay listened as his brother ranted on and on. He had been whining about it ever since Finlay had told him the news.

“Brother, your obsession about my upcoming nuptials is fringing on unhealthy. Get a grip, man.”

His brother was stalking from one side of the room to the other. If he kept it up, Finlay fully expected to see a clear path being worn into the oriental rug that decorated the middle of the room.

“Ye are doing this just so ye can keep your title.”

“Aye. That is quite obvious. I am not sure what ye are getting at.”

“Ye dinna love her.”

Finlay shrugged. “Mayhap aye, mayhap nay. Love was no’ a prerequisite of the will.” The last thing he was going to do was tell his brother his true feelings for Willamina. His pull of attraction every time he thought of her could not be denied. But not only could he not admit that to his brother, he could not confess it to Willamina. She had made clear her disinterest in a true marriage.

He was under the assumption her previous marriage was a horrid affair. So much so that she feared another marriage. He did not want her to fear him. If giving her her space and distance was what she wanted, it was the least he could do for her.

Finlay Primrose was a patient man when it came to things he wanted. He was used to waiting until his target came in to sight.

Not that he saw Willamina as a target. Nor prey. But he was willing to wait for her. He would show her that whatever her first marriage was, one between them would be completely different.

“I am so sick of ye getting e’erything handed to ye on a silver platter. As if, as if ye are some damned golden child.”

“Really? Ye think that to be the truth? Ye have naught idea the responsibility that lies upon my shoulders,” Finlay spat, tired of his brother’s childish behavior. Ye spend your days drinking without a care in the damn world. ’Tis time ye grow up.”

Fingal sputtered, but remained speechless as he stomped out of the room.

Sighing, Finlay shook his head. His brother had always been coddled. No one had really expected him to ever take over the title and all its responsibilities.

He poured himself a dram of whisky and sank into an upholstered chair set by the massive fireplace. Mayhap Fingal and Yvette would find living on the estate unbearable once Willamina moved in and they would leave to settle into one of the other Rosebery estates far away from here.

Ah, Willamina. Here. In his home. He could not get the vision of her out of his mind. As obsessed with him getting married as Fingal was, he had to say he had the same obsession with his future wife.

The talk with her cousin was simple enough. He stated his intentions. Gil was nonchalant about the whole situation, he was just happy to not have the responsibility anymore. It just proved to him that her cousin really had no interest in what was best for her whatsoever. He was certain that if Kelly, Jackson, Graham, or Wingot had taken him aside and said they wanted to marry her, Gil would have reacted in the same way.

If his memory served him correctly, they had only come to know each other shortly after her parents’ deaths and it showed.

That would make sense considering their relationship was tepid at best. Finlay found her positively delightful. In his mind, he saw the whole situation as Gil’s loss.

And definitely his gain.

Later, he and Willamina were due to promenade. A proper date that they had been partaking in for the past two days, and news had been spreading like wildfire of their impending nuptials. He had sent word to his best friends and hoped that they would all be able to stay and visit for some time before the ceremony, but the timeline was tight. The last time they were together was when Alexander and Clarissa had married. It seemed so long ago. They had kept up to date with each other’s affairs by letter.

He laughed out loud. He found it comical how it seemed that most of the time when he and his friends gathered lately, it was because one of them was getting married. He was third. Two more to go.

He could see Malcolm marrying, but Gunn? Nay, he could not see that man settling down. He owned a popular pub and inn, The Stag & Dove, in Banchory, and he had a steady stream of women to warm his bed. The thought of that man settling down with one woman did not seem plausible.

The front door slammed, and he sighed. His brother wouldn’t take to him for the rest of the day, mayhap longer seeing the way his temper was flaring. That was fine with Finlay. Distance from Fingal was something he always enjoyed.

For being twins, they had never been close. Even when they were young lads. Finlay had always been responsible, while Fingal had always been wild and carefree. The luxury of being the second-born and youngest, if only by six minutes. His status allowed him to sow his oats.

He would not always have the Rosewood estate to fall back on. Eventually, he would need to settle into his own. With his own occupation. He and Yvette would have their own family. Their own estate.

Finlay could only look forward to that day.

He finished his whisky and set the glass on the mahogany side table. He needed to get up and prepare to call on Willamina. One thing he had noted since they had decided to announce their engagement was he had certainly made some enemies. The hard looks he got when he was out and about were uncalled for.

It was not like he had stolen Willamina away from these men. If they had been more charming they may as well have been in this position instead of him.

That everyone believed that they were truly in love just proved that their farce was believable. They had had their doubts, apparently for no reason.

After freshening up, he climbed into his waiting carriage and made his way to Buckwood Manor. Domenic opened the door as he lifted his hand to knock.

“Good afternoon, my lord. Lady Watson will be down shortly and has asked that ye be shown to the parlor to wait. Shall I bring ye a drink?”

“Nay, thank ye, Domenic. I shall wait in the parlor as instructed.” He gave the Buchanan butler a smile and walked down the hall and entered the parlor, surprised that Gil occupied one of the chairs. “Buchanan,” he dipped his head in greeting.

“Primrose. I am certain Willamina will be down momentarily. I have found that she enjoys making people wait on her.”

Finlay pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing. “I think ye mayhap are being a wee harsh with her. The perfect woman is always worth waiting on.”

Gil barked out a laugh and slapped his knee. “Well, if that is what ye believe, ye have found the right one for ye. Ye will spend more time waiting than actually doing whatever was planned.”

“Cousin, telling tall tales again, are ye?”

Finlay jumped up at the sound of Willamina’s voice and spun toward the door, bowing low in greeting. Their eyes met, hers glittery with mirth as she teased Gil.

Finlay let his eyes roam over Willamina. Her green gown fit her flawlessly, the color a lovely match to her skin tone. Cinched at the waist with a wide tartan ribbon. The bodice cut just low enough to tease him with the slightest swell of her breasts.

She caught him looking, and he smiled sheepishly. Not embarrassed to show her she had his full attention. His cock jerked in his trousers and he tried to ignore it. He did not need to scare her away. Though the thought of such a display scaring Willamina away seemed implausible. She did not strike him as someone to be easily frightened.

“Well, cousin, if ye are finished with insulting my character, Lord Primrose and I will take our leave. Who is to be our chaperone today?”

Finlay looked around, expecting Joan to be waiting, but she was not there.

“Joan has other obligations today,” she leaned close and whispered, a twinkle in her eye.

An annoyed look on his face, Gil stood. “I get the delight and pleasure to follow the two of ye around this afternoon.”

Willamina smiled. “Just think. Ye willna have to do so much longer. I am quite certain that all of Edinburgh is aware of our plans by now.”

“Let us hope.” He approached them, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. “Shall we?”