Page 64 of How to Cross a Marquess (The Way to a Lord's Heart 3)

“Grandmamma would be happy to see me, of course,” she said as if trying out a theory. She grimaced.

How to put it? Macklin had said he should be subtler. Roger searched his brain for a delicate way to frame his admittedly outrageous suggestion. And then he chucked the idea. Subtlety would never be his strong suit. “Marry me,” he said.

“They won’t agree. And in any case, you mustn’t be forced—”

“At once,” Roger interrupted. “It’s only four miles to the border. We can be married at the other end of the Coldstream Bridge. That’s just as good as Gretna Green.”

“Gretna Green!” She stared at him.

“Your fortune will be put into your hands as soon as the knot’s tied. I swear it.”

“If I elope! You imagine I am so lost to propriety as to make a runaway marriage?”

“It’s not a matter of days on the road. And staying at inns, and so on.” Roger had certainly not meant to insult her. “It’s just an hour’s ride. Less than that.”

She gazed up at him from her smaller mount. “You’re serious.”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“You married in haste once before.”

“This isn’t haste. We’ve been talking of marriage for—”

“Days,” she interrupted with a thin smile.

“Before this change. I beg you to allow me to do you this service.”

“Service?” she repeated in a constricted voice.

“Your fortune will be yours to command,” Roger repeated. “I promise.”

“So you’re offering me a bargain?” she asked.

“If you wish to put it that way.” He didn’t care much for the word. But he wasn’t going to dispute it.

“We marry. I fulfill the…obligations of being your wife. And you give me full control of my own money.”

She saidobligationsa bit strangely. But this wasn’t the time to quibble. “Yes,” he said.

“But to elope! My family would kick up a great dust.”

Was she wavering? Her tone suggested it. “I don’t think they would, you know. Not once they were presented with a fait accompli. You’d be Marchioness of Chatton. They can’t really object tothat. Not with any cause that society would accept. Your father wanted it.” Immediately, Roger wondered if that last remark had been a mistake.

Fenella gave a humorless laugh. “We could put it about that it was his dying wish. It actually was, in a way. His usual intractable way.”

She was being pulled into the scheme. For once in his life, Roger managed to keep quiet. He would let her think.

Fenella frowned into the distance. “But is this really possible? How does it work? You don’t need banns called or a special license?”

She was definitely wavering. “In Scotland you simply declare yourselves in front of witnesses, and it’s a binding marriage. Any citizens will do. You don’t need a clergyman. Though we can hunt one up if you like. We’ll have a certificate as proof of the marriage.”

“How do you know that?” Fenella asked.

“It’s the sort of thing one does know.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“No. Well, an acquaintance of mine looked into the all the ins and outs of the thing a while back. He knew I lived up here and wanted to bring this chit along and marry her. I refused, of course.”

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