Page 2 of Taming the Scot
It is here upon my deathbed that I decree with soundness of mind that the title of Chief of Irvine, Baron of Drum and Baron of Bonshaw, and all the lands and properties therein shall go to the grandson who first produces a legitimate heir within the bounds of a loving marriage.
“I am sure Uncle Will had something do with it, but I assure ye that it is no forgery, even if it has all the manner of one.” Euan ran his hands through his hair when he really wanted to drive his fist through the wall. “The solicitor was present and several witnesses, none of which were our immoral uncle.”
Maggie let out a long sigh, saying so much in that one exhale of breath. She set the parchment down and approached Euan at the window, kissing Owen on the head. “Well, we’d best get ye a bride.”
Euan scoffed. This was impossible. “Did ye no’ read the last part? ‘Within the bounds of a loving marriage.’ I’ve no’ been in love a day in my life, and a piece of paper forcing me to do so is no’ going to change that.”
Maggie patted him on the shoulder in the exact manner he’d just watched her pat the dog. “Ye’ve plenty of lasses who love ye.”
“They love my co—” He stopped himself just shy of being vulgar, remembering who he was talking to. “They love my coffers,” he corrected, which was also probably true. He’d a long line of lovers eager to leap into his bed and be gifted with his generous…talents, along with a bauble or two.
Maggie smirked. “I’m certain they do. But ye’re handsome, and ye’re verra charming. Ye used to charm the bread out of the baker’s hand with a smile.”
Euan grinned, remembering that. When they’d been unsure how to keep the estate going, at times they’d had to resort to some trickery to keep their bellies full. Because of their sacrifices, they’d rebuilt the clan from the bottom up, and everyone was thriving.
But marriage had never been an institution he wanted to enter. Heir-producing was best left to the gentleman of society. He had six sisters to care for, and he expected that his lands and title would pass to one of their sons. Besides, if he were busy trying to impregnate his “bride,” how could he go about all of the duties that everyone depended on him for?
Impossible. He couldn’t risk his sisters’ safety and that of the clan to follow through on this maniacal scheme. Then again, if he didn’t, he’d lose everything anyway.
“This is no’ a race I want to enter.” Euan leaned his forehead against the glass, the coolness of it only slightly reassuring.
How the hell was he supposed to get a lass to fall in love with him? That was a jest. Euan was not distinguished, and he was far from proper. He was recognized as a rough-and-tumble warrior, a landlord who would leap into the middle of a mud pit and haul out a wailing outlaw who’d stolen a pig. Often times when the sun went down, he would still brood over the horrors of war and the men he’d lost, even after a few years had passed.
And those years that he’d been forced away to war in France, Maggie had done a fine job taking care of things at home, but he’d made a vow he’d never leave those duties in her hands again. It wasn’t her responsibility, and it wasn’t fair to heap it on her. And this season, he’d promised to find her a husband. It was time she went off on her own and didn’t have to help care for their five younger sisters. She deserved some happiness in her life.
“Euan, I know more than anyone else that ye do no’ want to do this, and I hate to say it, but ye have to.” All the sarcasm and teasing had left Maggie’s face now, and in her eyes was a hint of pleading. “We need ye to.”
The door to his study burst open, and his five other sisters barged in. Amabel, Lillie, Skye, Esme and Raine. All beautiful and all mischievous.
“Ye canna let Hector take this place. What will happen to us?” the youngest, Raine, asked, while tugging on her chocolate-colored locks and blinking her wide blue eyes up at him. She was only thirteen and it would be years until she would begin searching for a husband. If he didn’t do this, her prospects for a happy and fulfilling union would be null.
“Why would ye let that arsehole win?” Skye, always the rebel, asked. She crossed her arms over her chest. The first wrinkles she was likely to gain would be between her brows, which seemed forever furrowed above her blue glower.
“Language,” Maggie drawled out at the same time Lillie tugged on Skye’s long blonde braid.
Euan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Skye was the sister who would join in him his boxing ring for rounds of frustration-alleviating exercise. He always went easy on her, but she never held back any of her punches, and he currently had a bruise the size of her fist on his ribs to prove it.
“But she’s right,” Esme interjected, the voice of reason even at sixteen. “Ye canna let Hector win. That’s all he’s wanted his whole life—to see ye knocked down.”
They had a point. It was the same between Will and their father. Their uncle had been more gleeful at the funeral as the siblings said their goodbyes to their father. Had even tried to take them in hand.
“Ye’re better than Hector,” his sister Amabel added. “Everyone who knows ye would agree.”
Amabel, who was born the year after Maggie, was the quietest of them all. She was an observer and offered her opinion only when it was dragged out of her, but that didn’t make her any less fierce than the loudest of them. Euan would argue she was likely the fiercest of his sisters and God save the man who deigned to get into a knife fight with her.
But they had a point. As much as he didn’t want to marry, how could he let their care fall into the hands of their vile cousin, who was an even worse schemer than his father? They were notorious for being involved in shady deals. Last year, Hector had tried to scam Euan out of a small fortune by claiming he had a connection to a wool supplier and would negotiate the trade—if only Euan would give him the wool to bring to Edinburgh. More unsuspecting victims might have fallen for his scam, but Euan always knew better. Hector couldn’t be trusted. In fact, Euan often suspected his cousin of being involved in far more nefarious activities than anyone knew about.
“Ye’re right. I can no’ allow him to win. But how am I supposed to find a bride, let alone have her birth an heir? And before Hector?”
Maggie cocked her head to the side. “I do no’ see any woman falling in love with Hector.” She gave an exaggerated shudder.
“Aye,” Amabel said seriously. “No lass in her right mind could love Hector.”
“And I think ye’ll have an easy enough time with the heir part,” Maggie continued.
Skye and Lillie snorted at that, and he pinned them with a “ye should have no idea what she’s talking about” look, which only made them laugh harder behind their hands.
“Who is going to judge if they are in love?” Lillie asked, posing a question Euan had yet to consider.
