Page 78 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
“He’s nae bad looking, I suppose, for an American,” one was saying. “Not that it matters, o’course. Those girls would take him whether he was young and sprightly, or hunchbacked and with n’er a tooth in his head.”
The other laughed. “I’m sure they’re making themselves amenable. There’s few would turn down the chance to be countess—and it will nae be long afore Dunrannoch passes on the mantle.”
“True enough. And a man disnae need to be in love to marry. Hot and willing is all we ask when it comes to bedding.”
As they chuckled, Ursula fought down welling nausea.
Hot and willing.
She’d been that all right.
And Rye certainly hadn’t said no.
She’d made it easy for him; and had thought it was easy for her, as well. She’d never imagined how far her feelings would become involved. No matter how she tried to fool herself, she couldn’t get away from the truth of it.
Somehow, her heart had become tangled up.
Rye had won her admiration and her respect, and she’d given herself to him without any consideration for what he might truly feel for her.
Since their return from the bothy, she’d been waiting—believing he would seek her out, but he’d been too busy to make time for her.
Actions spoke louder than words, didn’t they, and whatever he did feel for her, it wasn’t enough to divert him from the path his family had laid out for him.
Would he be different if he knew she was an heiress? If he knew her grandfather had been a viscount?
She was glad he didn’t know. Clearly, she wasn’t good enough just as she was.
The musicians drewthe reel to a close and there was much applause from the floor. Anticipating a small break, most of the dancers were moving towards the refreshments, crowding around Ursula.
It was too much.
She couldn’t breathe.
Ursula made her way to the edge, by the window, looking for the best route of escape. Bounded by unfamiliar faces, she was aware again that she didn’t belong there.
She’d made up her mind.
In the morning, she’d ask which of the guests might be travelling towards Fort William and join them in leaving the castle. She’d make her way to Daphne. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to see her old friend again.
With a sob, she pushed forward, blindly—not seeing anything anymore, or anyone.
“Whoa there!” A firm hand landed on her elbow, dragging her back. “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, little bear.”
She knew, straightaway, it was Rye, but it was too humiliating to play this game, and she didn’t want him to see she was crying.
“Ursula, what’s wrong?” His voice softened, his face creasing in confusion. “You’re upset. Has some fella been hasslin’ you?” His eyes travelled over her. “You’re sure lookin’ beautiful tonight, but it’s no excuse for a man to foist unwanted attentions.”
She was too weary to explain what she was upset about. And what was the use, since it wouldn’t change anything.
“I wanted to speak with you,” she said at last, “but I know you’ve been busy. It doesn’t matter.” She turned away.
“Hold on a minute, Ursula. I’ve been busy, it’s true—mostly talkin’ with my grandfather. I’ve had a few things to set straight, and I couldn’t come find you until I’d made sure he understood.”
“Discussing your choice of bride.” There was a flatness in her voice—a misery she couldn’t put into words.
“Yes—but, how did you know?” Rye grinned. “It don’t matter. All that does is that I’ve made him see who it is I should be marryin’. He was a mite surprised but he says he won’t make the same mistake he did with my father. His disapproval only drove a wedge between them. Old Finlay doesn’t want to repeat that estrangement. As long as I’m happy, he says he is too.”
Ursula was too distressed to follow all he was saying, but if he’d chosen baby-faced Blair above her older siblings, Ursula didn’t want to know about it. Had he no sensitive feeling?
