Page 124 of To Wed an Heiress
She threaded her fingers through her hair as she walked toward him. “And your brush,” she said. “I have absolutely nothing, and not for the first time. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Amazing?”
“That I don’t care,” she said. “Not one whit. I have everything I need,” she added. “You.”
He took her into his arms, smiling down at her. Such a comment required a kiss. A few minutes later he pulled back, knowing that he was going to take her back to their bed. They might stay there the whole day, driven out only by hunger.
For now, he turned with her to view his domain. Dawn was creeping over the horizon almost apologetically as if not wishing to disturb them.
Mercy stood in front of him, his arms wrapped around her. The morning breeze was filled with the scents of growing things. The far woods were dense, the woodland creatures beginning to stir. Life was waking to the day, a panorama that had often been presented to him, but one he had not appreciated as much as he did this morning.
She leaned back against him, her head resting on his chest.
He wanted to accomplish so much in his life; that hadn’t changed. He wanted to learn, to master flight, to expand his knowledge. With Mercy beside him as his partner, his companion, his love.
He dropped his arms, took her by the hand, and led her back to their bed.
Four hours later they were roused from slumber by the bell beside his bed. He’d rigged a wire, trailing it though some of the loose bricks leading down to the kitchen. Instead of having to come to his tower bedroom, Irene could simply tug on the rope he’d installed near the kitchen window.
Mercy sat up, and looked at him wide-eyed. “What is that?”
He rolled over, kissed her, and told her about the bell. “It’s hidden behind the bedside table,” he said.
“What does it mean?”
“That Irene needs me.” He sat on the edge of the bed and looked over at her. “She wouldn’t use the bell unless it was important.”
Mercy surprised him by getting out of bed and donning her clothes.
“There’s no need for you to get dressed,” he said, smiling at her.
“I’m starving,” she admitted. “Maybe some toast and tea?”
He made a mental note to obtain some coffee for Mercy since she preferred that to tea.
They descended the steps a few minutes later. He was attired in clean clothes while Mercy had to wear what she’d worn the night before and not for the first time. They needed to solve her clothing issue as soon as possible.
Irene greeted them in the corridor.
“Your father is here,” she said to Mercy. “And your aunt. I’ve put them both in the Clan Hall.”
With that, she left them.
“Would you like me to see to them?” he asked.
Mercy sighed. “No. That would be the coward’s way out. Besides, I want to say goodbye to my aunt and see if my father and I can’t come to some type of arrangement.”
“I won’t let him browbeat you, Mercy.”
“Of course not,” she said, smiling. “I’m the Countess of Morton.”
They walked to the Clan Hall hand in hand. At the door he stopped, surveying his two guests for a moment before they knew they were being observed.
Elizabeth was standing in front of a display of battle flags, reading the inscriptions. Rutherford was examining the vaulted ceiling as if he expected it to fall down on top of him.
Mercy squeezed his hand, then released it, and strode into the room.
Elizabeth stepped forward to embrace her niece. Rutherford held back, a scowl indicating how he felt about this meeting.
