Page 4 of Taming the Scot
That society gossip rag had caused more issues than not in his castle. Lillie enjoyed gossip more than lessons, enough that their governess had banished her from reading it. And when said governess had departed after Lillie had reached a certain age, and Maggie had taken over the duties for her sisters, Euan had enforced the rule, albeit half-heartedly. He secretly enjoyed listening to her retelling of the gossip, if only because it made her whole face light up.
Lillie’s eyes widened as if she’d forgotten she wasn’t supposed to have it. Then she gave a delicate shrug. “It was no’ mine. A friend’s.”
“Uh-huh.” Euan crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a stern, but not too serious, look.
“Now, about the timing,” Lillie said, attempting to change the subject. “Ye’ve only got a month before the season starts. And…if I may be so bold, an advert in Lady Edinburgh would likely get ye a governess quickly.”
Euan let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, help me write it up then, and I’m guessing ye know how to get the advert in the paper?”
Lillie again shrugged. “I can find out.” Which meant, “Aye, brother, I know exactly how.”
Euan sat at his desk with his six sisters surrounding him, as they wrote up one advert after another until the perfect one had been created. As he passed the written note to Lillie, he felt as if he was placing his life in her hands, when all this time he’d been the one to care for her. The truth was, he was going to need all the help he could get to win this ridiculous decree.
That was not a feeling he was accustomed to. He was the man of the castle, the older brother, the protector. The only other time he’d had to rely on his sisters was when he went away to war and had left them to care for each other. Every day he’d woken in his makeshift tent feeling guilt-ridden.
“I promise ye this, my sisters, I will protect ye and care for ye, for all the days I have left to live. No scheme of Grandda’s or Will’s or Hector’s will change that. Come what may, ye need no’ worry for your future.”
“Ye are the best of brothers,” Maggie said. “No one else could compare.”
There was a singsong of agreement, and then his younger sisters all piled around him, hugging him and teasing him about needing a governess.
As they left his study, they were still laughing about the lessons the governess would have to teach him.
He laughed with them but as soon as the door click closed, his jovial attitude vanished, and he was left only with acrimonious angriness regarding the situation and the betrayal of his grandfather, whom he’d been nothing but loyal to for the entirety of his life.
Euan was nearing thirty and he’d spent more than half of his life taking care of his sisters, the Drum lands and the people. And with the stroke of the signature of a dying man, all of his hard work could be swiped away and given to someone else.
There had to be some sort of legal loophole. Why had his grandfather changed his mind about not only bequeathing the title to Euan—but what was rightfully his already? What madness had come over him? All Euan could think of was that his Uncle Will had whispered something into the old man’s ear that left him desiring to issue the order.
Euan’s grandfather and grandmother had never been able to figure out which of the twin lads had been born first. During the birth, there was so much happening and moving around of the bairns that they lost track of who was who, and so Will and Daniel had their inheritances split down the middle. That had seemed right and fair. Why now would their grandfather have wanted to piece the legacy back together? Why force Euan or Hector to marry?
Unless someone told him it was better for the clan to be ruled by one person, even though they spanned holdings from east to west, it didn’t make sense.
Euan leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling of his study. Marrying and producing put his sisters at risk, but not marrying and letting Hector win was by far a worse fate for them all. If something were to happen to Euan, they’d be at Hector’s mercy.
Another good reason why he should start his search for a husband for Maggie.
She was twenty-six this past May, and he knew she hoped to be thought of as put on the shelf. At twelve, she’d become the mother figure of their younger sisters, and it had been that way these past fourteen years.
Maggie felt as much responsibility to their younger siblings as he did. A fact she’d made very clear in their last argument when he’d told her it was time that she find a husband. But it was true; she must.
For if he were to lose this race to the first marriage and heir, then her fate would be in Hector’s hands. But if he found her a good husband, then she would be well cared for no matter what happened with the decree—and hopefully, their sisters too.
Bloody hell, he hoped this plan worked. Euan had plenty of lovers. He was, after all, what Maggie had said—a charmer. He could charm the peel off an orange, as well as the skirts off a willing lady. But sensuality and pleasure were a far cry from love and commitment.
Those were two words he’d not had in his vocabulary. But after a little brushing up with the governess, he was fairly certain he would be one of the most eligible bachelors of the season. Though he’d said he wasn’t sure he could make a woman fall in love with him, the worry he harbored the most was that he’d be the one not falling in love. Love was a sentiment foreign to him when it came to the women he’d been involved with. He’d not felt even an inkling.
And he wasn’t ignorant as to what love looked like. His closest friends Lorne, the Duke of Sutherland, and Alec, the Earl of Errol, were madly in love with their wives. But Euan doubted there was a woman such as Jaime or Giselle out in the world for him. He’d seen plenty of society misses, slept with plenty society matrons and widows, to know that those two were diamonds in the rough—rare gems to be cherished. When they were forced to make a public appearance, he and his friend Malcolm Gordon often commiserated on Lorne and Alec’s being leg-shackled.
Quite frankly, Euan didn’t have the time to make a long expedition and dig. He needed a wife now—yesterday. This absurd race to see who could win the right to his lands and title was not going to be resolved anytime soon. Finding a wife and making sure she birthed an heir was a year out.
Euan marched over to his sideboard and poured himself a double of whisky. He was going to need all the fortifications he could get.
2
Right now, Miss Bronwen Holmes felt as if she was in the race for her life.
Maybe she was.
