Read Online Bridegroom Wore Plaid by Grace Burrowes - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace Burrowes
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kind of marriage my parents have chosen for me.”
There was a puzzle here, though Gil thanked God it wasn’t his puzzle to unlock. “Are you averse to marrying anybody with a title, or are your reasons specific to Ian?”
“Anybody whom I do not… anybody seeking to trade a title for my wealth.”
She sounded very sure of herself, which left Gil both relieved and oddly disappointed. Though whether he was disappointed for her, for Ian, or—God help him—for himself, he could not have said.
And it hardly mattered, regardless.
“You must explain your situation to Ian,” Gil said, rising from their boulder. “He’s a canny man, and you wouldn’t want for a better friend in a pinch. If anybody can aid you, Miss Daniels, he can.”
“He can’t help me.”
“Not even with a long engagement from which he allows you to cry off and keep much of your settlements?”
She was in the process of shaking out the skirts of her habit as he spoke, but she paused to meet his eyes. “Such arrangements are possible?”
He winged his arm at her, having no idea whatsoever what was possible once lawyers got hold of marriage contracts. His brother, however, he both knew and trusted.
“Ian isn’t a good negotiator, he’s a great negotiator. Our neighbors have been known to solicit Ian’s input on sticky foreign policy matters, and in dealing with their various local retainers. He studied law for years, and he can sort out most any situation and draft language to address it.”
“Then it’s possible? To write a contract such that some of the money will stay with the jilted groom even after a long engagement?”
Why in God’s name did she sound so intrigued? Even he knew a woman who jilted her fiancé was effectively ruined. “It may be possible, though Ian has made no secret we need coin sooner rather than later. Still, I suggest you bring up with him whatever is troubling you and solicit his aid. As a gentleman, he’s honor bound to help you.”
She let Gil assist her into the saddle but said little all the way back to the stables. Gil was going to have to tell Ian something of what had transpired in the woods—that the woman was reluctant, of course. That she’d taken arranged marriage as an institution into dislike for a certainty.
But not that the lady had literally cried on Gil’s shoulder. Her dignity alone required he hold that much in confidence.
Four
“Gussie, you must arise! Con says we might spot Her Majesty or His Highness today. After a rainy day, they often take the children for an outing on the walking paths.”
Julia’s eyes were as animated as any girl’s at her first ball, while Augusta stifled the urge to shut the door in the other woman’s face. A solitary walk in the woods was apparently not to be had today, though the sun shone brightly enough outside Augusta’s bedroom to make the wet grass sparkle invitingly.
“I’ll be down to breakfast directly,” Augusta said, stepping back from her door. Then a thought struck her. “ Con , Julia?”
She’d seen the pair of them at dinner, heads together, the quiet Scot occasionally offering Julia a subdued smile that charmed with its very subtlety. It was a just-for-you smile, more personal than the beaming bonhomie of the other MacGregor brothers.
“Connor, then. We agreed it grows awkward to have two Mr. MacGregors at the table, and Con said Gilgallon will become violent if we refer to him as Deesely, which he isn’t quite, not really. Or maybe he is.”
Augusta watched as Julia moved over to the French doors. For a widow of mature years—Julia would be thirty on her next birthday—she was positively bouncing along.
“Where is your cat, Gus? I should think he’d be reclining in splendor on that great bed.”
“He’s likely out sunning himself somewhere. That’s why the French doors are left open, so Ulysses may go on his royal progress at his leisure.” And so the brisk Highland air could find its way into Augusta’s
There was a puzzle here, though Gil thanked God it wasn’t his puzzle to unlock. “Are you averse to marrying anybody with a title, or are your reasons specific to Ian?”
“Anybody whom I do not… anybody seeking to trade a title for my wealth.”
She sounded very sure of herself, which left Gil both relieved and oddly disappointed. Though whether he was disappointed for her, for Ian, or—God help him—for himself, he could not have said.
And it hardly mattered, regardless.
“You must explain your situation to Ian,” Gil said, rising from their boulder. “He’s a canny man, and you wouldn’t want for a better friend in a pinch. If anybody can aid you, Miss Daniels, he can.”
“He can’t help me.”
“Not even with a long engagement from which he allows you to cry off and keep much of your settlements?”
She was in the process of shaking out the skirts of her habit as he spoke, but she paused to meet his eyes. “Such arrangements are possible?”
He winged his arm at her, having no idea whatsoever what was possible once lawyers got hold of marriage contracts. His brother, however, he both knew and trusted.
“Ian isn’t a good negotiator, he’s a great negotiator. Our neighbors have been known to solicit Ian’s input on sticky foreign policy matters, and in dealing with their various local retainers. He studied law for years, and he can sort out most any situation and draft language to address it.”
“Then it’s possible? To write a contract such that some of the money will stay with the jilted groom even after a long engagement?”
Why in God’s name did she sound so intrigued? Even he knew a woman who jilted her fiancé was effectively ruined. “It may be possible, though Ian has made no secret we need coin sooner rather than later. Still, I suggest you bring up with him whatever is troubling you and solicit his aid. As a gentleman, he’s honor bound to help you.”
She let Gil assist her into the saddle but said little all the way back to the stables. Gil was going to have to tell Ian something of what had transpired in the woods—that the woman was reluctant, of course. That she’d taken arranged marriage as an institution into dislike for a certainty.
But not that the lady had literally cried on Gil’s shoulder. Her dignity alone required he hold that much in confidence.
Four
“Gussie, you must arise! Con says we might spot Her Majesty or His Highness today. After a rainy day, they often take the children for an outing on the walking paths.”
Julia’s eyes were as animated as any girl’s at her first ball, while Augusta stifled the urge to shut the door in the other woman’s face. A solitary walk in the woods was apparently not to be had today, though the sun shone brightly enough outside Augusta’s bedroom to make the wet grass sparkle invitingly.
“I’ll be down to breakfast directly,” Augusta said, stepping back from her door. Then a thought struck her. “ Con , Julia?”
She’d seen the pair of them at dinner, heads together, the quiet Scot occasionally offering Julia a subdued smile that charmed with its very subtlety. It was a just-for-you smile, more personal than the beaming bonhomie of the other MacGregor brothers.
“Connor, then. We agreed it grows awkward to have two Mr. MacGregors at the table, and Con said Gilgallon will become violent if we refer to him as Deesely, which he isn’t quite, not really. Or maybe he is.”
Augusta watched as Julia moved over to the French doors. For a widow of mature years—Julia would be thirty on her next birthday—she was positively bouncing along.
“Where is your cat, Gus? I should think he’d be reclining in splendor on that great bed.”
“He’s likely out sunning himself somewhere. That’s why the French doors are left open, so Ulysses may go on his royal progress at his leisure.” And so the brisk Highland air could find its way into Augusta’s
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