Page 119 of To Wed an Heiress
Her aunt surprised her by leaving her grandmother’s side and going to stand in front of her father.
“May I travel with you back to America, James?”
“You won’t leave Scotland, Elizabeth,” her grandmother said, her voice strong and filled with fury.
Elizabeth ignored Ailsa.
Her father nodded. “I would be pleased, Elizabeth.”
Mercy smiled at her aunt, delighted. Yes, Ailsa was going to be enraged, but Ailsa was often unhappy about the actions of other people. Perhaps she could restrict herself to controlling her own life and leaving other people alone.
Lennox took her hand and the five of them left before the simmering tensions gave way to outright warfare.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Mercy, Lennox, Irene, and Ruthie sat inside the carriage while Connor drove. Mercy held tight to Lennox’s hand, half believing that she was imagining things and that the previous hour hadn’t really happened. Any moment now she would come back to herself. Or wake up. But whenever she glanced to her left, there he was, smiling at her.
If they had been alone she would have snuggled up next to him. Or perhaps they could have talked about the one subject they hadn’t mentioned: her wealth. But with the others in the carriage, it didn’t feel appropriate.
She explained Elizabeth’s news to the other women.
“I saw the letter, didn’t I, Miss Mercy?”
She nodded. “Indeed you did, Ruthie.”
“You will have to call her something else from now on, Ruthie,” Lennox said. “She’s no longer a miss.”
Ruthie began to smile. “It’s right, you are. Shall I call you Countess?”
Mercy shook her head. “Mercy will do just fine, Ruthie.”
“Or Her Ladyship whenever you’re annoyed with her,” Lennox said. At Irene’s look, he smiled. “It’s what you do to me.”
Although she had left her father without a farewell and there were, no doubt, hurt feelings there, Mercy was overjoyed. She didn’t have a stitch of clothing to her name. Or any of her toiletries. She didn’t care. She’d done without before and it hadn’t mattered. Garments could always be purchased and she didn’t need most of what she’d brought to Scotland anyway.
She had never realized that she could easily walk away from everything, but she had. Everything that really hadn’t mattered, that is. Lennox was who mattered. Living at Duddingston Castle was what mattered.
The future stretched out before her, unwritten and unplanned. It was both frightening and exhilarating.
Soon enough, they were back at the castle. Instead of going around to the front, Connor drove into the stable. Lennox helped them all out of the carriage. Irene was the first to disappear, citing a need to get home to her little cottage. Before she left, however, she came to both of them, put one hand on Lennox’s arm and the other on Mercy’s.
“I thought the two of you would suit from the first moment I saw you together. May God grant you joy, wisdom, and long life.” With that, she kissed both of them on the cheek, then turned to leave, but stopped before she made it to the stable doorway.
“I didn’t tell him about the money, Mercy. It’s still where you left it.” And then she was gone, vanishing into the Highland summer night, now only gradually succumbing to darkness.
Lennox turned to look at her. “The money?”
She shook her head. She would tell him later.
As Connor was removing the harness from the horses, aided by Ruthie, Lennox thanked them both, then grabbed Mercy’s hand, and pulled her from the stable.
If they had been married in a formal ceremony, followed by a dinner, it would have been hours until they were alone. She wanted, very much, to be alone with Lennox. Her husband. Lennox was her husband.
“I just realized I’ve added one more name,” she said and recited all of them. She stopped on the path and kissed him. “Caitheart, the best name of them all.”
“Wife,” he said.
“Husband,” she countered, then kissed him again.
