Page 109 of To Wed an Heiress
Lennox smiled. “Mine.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Mercy wanted to simply walk through Macrory House and make her way to the second floor and her bedroom. Instead, she guessed there would be a receiving line, of sorts, to let her know how far she’d strayed from propriety and what each member of the family thought about her.
She wasn’t wrong.
The first to greet her was McNaughton, of course. The man actually bowed to her father, but spared a curl of his lip for Mercy. She brushed past him, entered the room where she and Ruthie had first been introduced to the surly butler, and headed for the stairs.
Only to be stopped by the imperious voice of her grandmother.
Mercy sighed, resigned to having this confrontation, and turned to greet Ailsa.
“You, Hortense, are a disgrace.”
Mercy didn’t respond. Nothing she could say would mitigate her grandmother’s hostility. If she’d known that Ailsa had nothing but antipathy for her, she would certainly not have made the journey to Scotland. For that alone she should thank Ailsa. If she hadn’t come, she’d never have met Lennox. However, she was not going to spare another scintilla of compassion for her grandmother.
Her aunt was another story.
Elizabeth stood beside her mother, her gaze carefully on the floor. Mercy understood. Elizabeth had no other place to live, or hope of another home. She was forced to endure Ailsa’s tirades and judgments.
“The few hours you’ll spend here are too long. I will celebrate the minute you leave this house and thank the Almighty that I’ll never see you again. I rue the day I allowed your mother to marry that Yankee. She is an abomination as well, teaching you to flaunt authority. From this day forward, I have only one daughter.”
“You’ll not speak about my wife in that fashion.”
Mercy glanced over her shoulder to see her father advancing on her grandmother. Ailsa had erred. Her father would never tolerate any word against Fenella.
“You’ll not tell me how to address my granddaughter. She consorts with the enemy. She has done nothing but disobey me since her arrival.”
Her father didn’t answer, merely came to Mercy’s side, cupped her elbow, and escorted her to the stairs.
“She has shamed this family!”
Mercy pulled free, turned, and addressed her grandmother. “Like you did, Seanmhair? Or did you think that no one would remember that you ran off and married a crofter? I never thought you were a hypocrite, but you’re right in one way. Scandal does have a way of lingering, doesn’t it?”
She really shouldn’t have said anything. Ailsa looked apoplectic.
Turning, she avoided her father and walked up the stairs on her own.
It was a good thing they were leaving in the morning. The atmosphere at Macrory House was poisonous.
Lennox took the steps two at a time and entered his tower bedroom. While he’d been talking to Connor, Irene had carried hot water up to the tower.
The woman was amazing.
He went to the armoire and removed the suit he hadn’t worn since Edinburgh. He’d bulked up in muscle some, but it would still fit. The occasion was important, probably the most important thing he’d done in his life.
He removed his clothes, bathed, and wrapped the towel around his waist while he shaved and thought about the next few hours.
“I’ve a present for you,” Irene said, startling him.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, wondering if he should duck behind the armoire doors or shriek like a maiden.
“I’ve seen it all before,” Irene said with a smile. “Oh, not yours, of course, but they’re all the same, aren’t they?”
Was he supposed to answer that?
She came into the room and placed the bundle she was carrying on the bed. Slowly, she unwrapped the muslin, revealing a foot-high stack of carefully folded tartan.
