Chapter Sixteen
A bloody great headache awaited Nick on the other side of sleep. And was he lying on a block of wood? It was either that or his mattress urgently needed restuffing.
He cracked open his eyelids. Above him was the plasterwork medallion of his library ceiling, not the canopy of his bed.
“It’s about time ye returned to the land of the livin’,” barked a voice he had no trouble recognizing. “We were about to send for the surgeon.”
Nick shot upright into a sitting position, then clutched his head as pain knifed through his skull. “Jesus.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t yell.”
“He was practically whispering.” Royal said. “At least as much as Grandda can whisper.”
“I can whisper,” Angus loudly protested. “I can be silent as the bloody grave, ye ken.”
Nick opened his eyes to glare at them. “Would you both shut it? My head’s going to explode.”
He couldn’t remember ever having felt this disgusting. He had any number of character flaws, but getting piss drunk wasn’t one of them.
“Aye, yer stale drunk this morning, laddie,” Angus said in a sympathetic voice.
The old man was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. Royal stood behind him, leaning a casual elbow on the back of the club chair.
“Thank you for stating the obvious.” Nick tried to rub out the ache at the base of his neck. “And could one of you explain what I’m doing down here?”
“You drank almost an entire decanter of whisky and passed out,” Royal said. “And since you’re too bloody heavy to move, we left you to sleep it off.”
Nick tossed aside the blanket that someone had thoughtfully placed over his legs. “I do remember getting jug-bitten, which I will never do again, by the way. But how did I end up on the blasted floor?”
Angus shrugged. “We dinna ken. Ye’ll have to ask the lassie.”
A vague image started to coalesce in the back of Nick’s mind. “The lassie?”
Royal nodded. “Miss Knight. She was the only person in the room when you, er, ended up on the floor.”
“When ye both ended up on the floor,” Angus corrected.
Nick braced his elbows on his bent knees and rested his throbbing head in his palms. Fractured memories of the previous evening started punching their way up through the fog, flooding his brain with vivid images—Victoria sitting on the footstool before him, Victoria sitting on his lap, and, finally, Victoria lying beneath him on the floor, with his cheek cushioned on the gentle swell of her breasts.
Bloody. Damn. Hell.
Most vivid of all, he remembered the glorious taste of her mouth as he took everything she’d sweetly and innocently offered. Even as wretched as he felt now, with wet wool for brains and a mouth like the inside of a cave, his body stirred at the memory.
“Och, ye were like an old married couple snug in yer bed,” Angus said with an expansive wave. “It fair brought a tear to mine eye to see ye so content, lad. Like wrapt up in warm flannel, ye were.”
Royal tried to smother a laugh at the stupid joke. Wrapt up in flannel was cant for blind drunk.
“Christ,” Nick sighed. He flopped back to the floor and rubbed his aching temples. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt or frighten the poor girl.”
“Oh, not a bit,” Royal said. “She seemed more than happy to offer you comfort in your time of need.”
And he’d clearly been more than happy to receive it. It had all come back to him now. His wretchedly foul mood and how he’d tried to drown it in whisky, and then Victoria climbing through the damn window, doing her best to talk sense into him. Her gentle warmth had chased away the grim memories haunting him last night.
He sat up and tossed aside the plaid blanket, hauling himself to his feet. His head swam for a few moments, but he refused to give in to the urge to find the nearest bucket and empty his stomach. He wanted to know exactly what happened last night, and he needed to think about Victoria and how to do right by her.
Nick made his way over to the bellpull and yanked it. He desperately needed coffee. “You shouldn’t have let her come in here,” he growled as he stalked back to his desk.
“Couldn’t stop her,” Royal said, taking the chair in front of Nick’s desk.
“You couldn’t stop that wee slip of a girl from climbing in the bloody window?” Nick asked in disbelief.
“We tried,” Angus said in a soulful tone. “But that lass was fair insistent.”
“Cowards.”
“Can you blame us?” Royal said.
Nick snorted. “Yes.”
The door opened and Andrew cautiously peeked in. “Ye rang, Laird?”
“Tell Taffy to bring up a pot of coffee.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And don’t slam the—” Nick winced when the footman, in his haste to escape, banged the door shut. It would appear he’d terrorized the entire household, with the exception of Victoria.
“Ye’ll be feelin’ as queer as Dick’s hatband, I’m thinkin’,” Angus said.
“Trenchantly put, as always,” Nick replied. “But that hardly matters. What matters is what happened in here, and how it will affect Miss Knight’s reputation. How did she seem about all”—he circled a hand—“this.”
“She asked me to shoot her,” Royal said.
“Good God,” Nick said.
“Aye,” Angus said happily. “No other choice but to marry the puir lass. The sooner, the better.”
Nick was reaching the same inevitable conclusion. Surprisingly, he felt quite sanguine about the notion. But for Angus to approve? “Why are you so bloody pleased? You don’t even like Victoria.”
His grandfather shrugged. “She’s not bad for a Sassenach, and she’s a dab hand at managin’ the lads.”
Nick narrowed his gaze. The old man had been pushing him to remarry for years. Now it looked like he was finally going to get his way.
“I don’t think you have much choice,” Royal said. “You either have to marry the girl or send her quietly back to London and hope no one hears about last night’s events.”
“What are the odds Sir Dominic or Alec won’t get wind of this little incident?” Nick asked. “If the girl’s reputation comes under any sort of question, those two will murder me.”
They probably would anyway, unless he did the right thing and married her. There was, however, a large question yet unresolved.
“You’re wondering if Miss Knight will agree to marry you, I’m guessing,” Royal said with his usual perception.
“How could I not?” Nick asked.
His brother waggled a hand. “I’d say it could go either way. After we managed to get her out from under you, she flew out of here like hellhounds were baying at her heels.”
Nick had to wince at the description, though it instantly conjured up the enticing image of Victoria under him, naked in bed.
“The lass made us promise not to say anything about what we saw,” Angus said. “I told her it would be verra hard to unsee that particular sight.”
The door opened and Taffy marched in with the coffee.
“And did you keep your mouths shut?” Nick asked.
Taffy glanced at Angus and made a scoffing noise as she placed the tray on the corner of the big desk.
“As if Grandda could keep his mouth shut about anything,” Royal said.
Nick sighed as Taffy poured a small packet of headache powders into a glass of water. “So, what do the servants know?”
“They ken the laird was locked away with the governess for quite some time,” she said tartly.
“And that you were drunk,” Royal added in a helpful tone.
Nick shot down the headache powders in one gulp, ignoring their bitter taste—and his brother’s amusement.
“Sir, Miss Knight may be a wee bit rattled by last night’s events,” Taffy said as she handed him a cup of coffee. “But she’s no fool. She knows verra well what this means.”
“And what needs to happen next,” Royal said.
Nick took several gulps of the hot brew, waiting for the usual jolt to clear his head. While he was prepared to do the right thing, was Victoria prepared to accept him? She’d seemed more than happy to receive his kisses last night, though that might have been mostly motivated by pity.
That was a remarkably unappealing conjecture.
“It’s time, laddie,” Angus said. “Ye need to get on with yer life. Besides, yer the laird, and a laird needs a lady.”
“Even if she’s a Sassenach?”
“She won’t be once she marries ye. Besides, ye must admit she’s a lady to the tips of her wee toes.”
“It would be grand to have a true lady around the house again,” Taffy said wistfully.
Nick studied the faces of the three people who were his greatest supporters, even if they sometimes drove him mad. They were clearly united in purpose, an unusual event in his household.
“I sense a conspiracy,” he said.
“One that is surely in your best interest,” Royal said. “And Miss Knight’s.”
“She might not agree with that.” Nick knew her history—at least some of it—and he had no wish to force her into an unpalatable relationship. But her reputation and her future were now at stake.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Royal said.
Nick shoved back from his desk. “Where is she?”
“In the schoolroom with Master Kade.” Taffy eyed him. “But ye’ll surely be wanting to have a change before speaking with her, sir.”
“Later,” he said as he strode to the door.
“Good luck,” Royal said.
“Ye’ll need it, lookin’ like that,” Angus yelled after him.
As Nick took the stairs two at a time, he considered taking their advice. But he couldn’t wait to make sure she was truly all right. Besides, she’d already seen him at his worst. At least he was now sober.
He reached the second floor, where the schoolroom, nursery, and bedrooms for nursemaids and tutors were. He rarely came up here, since those rooms carried too many painful memories of his little boy. But someday, perhaps, they would once again be filled with the sound of children’s laughter.
Pausing outside the schoolroom door, he ran a quick hand through his hair and straightened his waistcoat. He had no idea where his coat was but supposed it didn’t matter. As far as marriage proposals went, this one would be unconventional at best.
He eased open the door and quietly entered the spacious, low-ceilinged room with its tall windows looking east. Sunlight streamed in, burnishing the dark paneled walls and polished floorboards with warmth. All was tidy and cheerful, with books lining the sets of shelves, two large globes on stands next to a chalkboard, and a small spinet near the windows. The cushions and blankets piled neatly in front of the hearth suggested a comfortable reading retreat in front of the crackling fire. It was Victoria’s addition, he suspected.
Nick had spent hours in this room as a boy, and he’d never imagined it could be so welcoming.
The reason for all that comfort and cheer sat with Kade at a large table in the center of the room. Dressed in a green, kerseymere gown buttoned at the throat and sleeves, Victoria looked remarkably prim for a woman who’d only last night melted into his kisses. Sunlight gilded her hair and made her skin glow like pearls. Seeing her again made Nick’s head clear and his heart lift.
She and Kade had their heads bent over an atlas. As Nick strolled down the length of the room to their worktable, they glanced up to meet his gaze. Victoria’s eyes popped wide, and her cheeks flushed rosy pink.
“Oh, ah, my lord, I thought you were the maid with breakfast.” She clambered up from her straight-backed chair without her usual grace. “I . . . I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
“I’m not surprised, given my state last night,” he said with a reassuring smile.
Kade wrinkled his nose. “You’re looking rather grim this morning, Nick. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, lad. I’m sorry I was such a bear, yesterday. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”
His brother scoffed. “No, although I was a wee bit worried you and Logan might kill each other.”
Nick tapped him gently on the shoulder. “No fear of that, but we will not discuss Logan at the moment, if you please.”
Kade nodded. “I’m sorry yesterday was so troubling for you. I hope we can talk about it at some point, though.”
“We will. Soon.”
Nick glanced at Victoria, who stood behind her chair, clasping her hands over her stomach. Her eyes were shadowed and her mouth was set in a tight, worried line. He had to repress the impulse to take her into his arms and kiss away her anxiety.
“Kade, why don’t you go down and get some breakfast? I wish to speak to Miss Knight.”
Her hand flew up, as if to ward him off. “The maid will be here soon with tea and biscuits, sir. And surely you’ll want to change, given what . . . what . . .” She winced and clamped her lips shut.
Kade looked suspiciously at the two of them. “What’s going on, Nick?”
He thought about it for a moment, and then decided to tell the truth. “I’m here to propose to Miss Knight.”
Victoria made a choking noise.
Kade gaped at him. “Propose marriage?”
“Yes.”
“Huh,” his brother said. Then he smiled. “Good for you, Nick. Miss Knight’s a wonderful person.”
She stared at Kade, dumbstruck.
“Indeed, she is,” Nick said. “But don’t say anything to your brothers just yet. Miss Knight and I have to discuss the particulars first.”
“Wait,” she finally said. “Lord Arn—”
He held up a hand. “A moment, please, Miss Knight. Off with you, scamp.”
Kade headed for the door and gave Victoria a cheery wave. “See you later, Miss Knight.”
Victoria managed a weak wave in reply, but Nick could see she was also working her way up to a thunderous scowl. She looked so adorably fierce that he was tempted to laugh. Common sense, however, dictated caution. Madam Governess had her own ideas about how the world should be ordered, and those ideas might not include him. For one thing, she might be appalled by the notion of spending most of her life in a drafty old castle in the Highlands.
Janet had loathed it, after all, and she’d been born and raised in Scotland.
But Victoria was not Janet. Where his wife had been dramatic and sentimental, Victoria was clear-eyed and sensible. She would never succumb to girlish notions of wedded bliss, or expect Nick to act dashing and romantic. They would have a satisfying partnership based on mutual esteem, affection, and a sensible view of family and duties.
And we will have a great deal of splendid sex.
“My lord, are you well?” She’d stopped scowling and now studied him with vague alarm.
Imbecile. Letting his mind wander was no way to court a skittish lady. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You’re not going to be sick, are you?” She ran a quick, practiced eye over him, not looking much impressed.
He probably should have taken the time to shave and change after all, but it was too late now. “No, I feel perfectly fine.”
When her eyebrows shot up, he shrugged. “Very well. I do have a bit of a headache, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not surprised,” she muttered.
“Miss Knight. Victoria—”
“Won’t you sit down?” she firmly interrupted. “I could ring for the maid and see what’s taking so long with the tea.”
He strolled around the table to her side. “I don’t need tea. I just need you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “I’m not sure what that means.”
Taking her determined little chin in his hand, he tilted it up. “It means I’d like to kiss you.”
Her lovely lips parted on a gasp, but she simply stared at him. Then, as he slowly lowered his head, she blinked a few times, and one of her hands came to rest on his chest.
“I don’t think—” she started.
“Exactly, don’t think.”
He slid his arms around her back. She trembled but didn’t resist the embrace. Instead, her other hand joined the first to rest on his waistcoat. Nick huffed out a small, triumphant chuckle just before their lips met.
“Oh, dear!” She flattened her hands and pushed back.
He loosened his grip. “What’s wrong?”
Victoria crinkled her nose with evident distaste. “I don’t like to criticize, my lord . . .”
“Yes?”
“It’s your breath. It’s quite . . . gruesome.”
He sighed and let her go. “Sorry about that. I seem to have forgotten the basics when it comes to courting a lady.”
She scooted around to the other side of the table. “Sir, there is absolutely no need to court me.”
He smiled. “Good. Then we’ll marry as soon as possible?”
Her eyes widened with shock. “Really, Lord Arnprior, this is entirely unnecessary, as I told your brother last night.”
“And also Angus and Taffy,” he helpfully supplied.
She winced. “Yes.”
“That’s three people who caught us in a compromising position. And despite my best efforts to quell any gossip—”
“You obviously just woke up,” she said with disbelief.
“—I fear Angus has not exercised the same discretion we would,” he finished, trying to sound regretful.
“But I made it very clear to Mr. MacDonald that I would depend upon his discretion.”
“Angus, discreet?” Nick couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
She glared at him. “Sir, I was not compromised. You were feeling . . . unwell, and I was simply trying to . . . to support you.”
“By kissing me, and then rolling about on the floor with me?”
“We weren’t rolling,” she snapped.
“I stand corrected. But I was lying on top of you with my head cushioned on your, er, chest.” He could still recall how delightful her breasts had felt under his cheek.
A fiery blush climbed up her neck. “That particular posture was an accident, as were the kisses.”
“A very enjoyable accident, I must say.”
“They were not meant to happen,” she said hotly.
Something unpleasant congealed in the pit of his stomach. “Are you saying I forced myself on you?” He’d shoot himself if that were the case.
“No, of course not!” she exclaimed. “I know you would never take advantage of me, or any woman.”
His gut unclenched. “Then you’re saying that you willingly returned my caresses? That I did not force myself on you.”
She looked like she was chewing on her words. “That is correct, sir.”
He spread his hands wide. “Then, my dear, I see no other option but for us to marry. You are a lady, and gentlemen don’t take advantage of ladies.”
“Again, you did not take advantage of me,” she said in a frustrated tone. “And I’m not a lady. I’m a governess, entirely able to support myself without you making such an unnecessary sacrifice.”
“You won’t be a governess for much longer if this gets out. And it will get out.”
Nick was quite certain of that. He wouldn’t be surprised if Angus was right this minute blabbing to the tenant farmers and anyone who would listen that the laird was to marry Kade’s Sassenach governess.
She sucked in a slow breath. “Then I will leave my position today, Lord Arnprior, before there is opportunity for gossip to spread.”
His heart jolted, but he forced himself not to overreact. “Such a sudden departure will have the opposite effect, my dear.”
“Sir—”
“And what about Kade? You don’t wish to leave him, do you?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I’m exceedingly fond of him.”
“And do you wish to leave me?” he asked casually.
She grimaced. “That . . . that is hardly the point, my lord. You cannot wish to marry someone like me.” She seemed genuinely shocked by the notion, as if he should be revolted by the very idea of marriage to her.
“You’re right—I don’t wish to marry someone like you,” he said quietly.
Hurt darkened her pretty blue eyes, and her mouth twitched a wee bit. Then she steadied herself and nodded. “Of course not.”
“I wish to marry you. Specifically,” he added, just to make it clear.
She looked so perplexed he could almost imagine he was speaking in tongues and that neither of them had received enlightenment.
Then her chin went up in a stubborn tilt. “As I said, that will not be necessary.”
His headache was starting to worm its way back into his brain. Perhaps it was time to take a different tack. “It is entirely necessary if you don’t wish to see me ruthlessly maimed and then murdered.”
She crinkled her brow. “Sorry?”
“What do you think will happen when Sir Dominic and Alec hear what happened between us? And, trust me, they will.” He would tell them himself, if he had to.
Victoria sank down into a chair. “Oh, God, this is a disaster.” She flicked him a scowl. “One of your making, I might add.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“All right,” she huffed. “Mostly of your making. I did kiss you back.”
“You did. But rather than a disaster, I see this as an opportunity—for all of us.”
She crossed her arms. “Oh, really?”
“I get a wife, you get an earl, and we set a grand example for my brothers. If I marry such a kind, thoroughly good woman, it should encourage them to do the same.”
“We should get married to encourage your brothers?”
He winced at her sharp tone. “The most important reason is that I refuse to see you harmed in any way by my actions.”
She leaned forward and rested her forehead in her palms.
“Victoria, do I repulse you?” he asked gently.
“You know you don’t,” she said, looking up.
“Do I frighten you in any way?”
“I told you last night that you do not frighten me.”
“Excellent. Then perhaps you might like me a little bit, after all?”
She sighed. “Again, not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“I am neither gently bred nor a lady.”
He frowned down at her. “Of course you are.”
“Would you please sit? I’m getting a crick in my neck staring up at you.”
He bit back a smile and took the seat opposite her. “Now, tell me why you don’t think you’re a lady.”
“Because I was born illegitimate.” The words came out in a rush.
He suddenly felt muddle-headed again. “I don’t understand. You said you were raised by your parents in your grandfather’s coaching inn.”
“No, I was raised by my mother. Barely,” she muttered.
“Yes, but you said you lost your father at an early age.”
She waggled a hand. “He was never part of my life, but he didn’t die.”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t like being lied to, Victoria.”
“I’m sorry for doing so,” she said. “But it’s not a point one wishes to advertise, especially as a governess.”
He noted her worried expression and the hands tightly clenched on the tabletop. “I can imagine how that would be an impediment. But you were raised in a respectable household, were you not?”
She nodded. “I can vouch for the good character of my aunts and uncles. They’re very well regarded in Brighton, as was my grandfather.”
After a moment’s consideration, he shrugged. “Then unless your father is a murderer, a brigand, or a highwayman, I fail to see the problem.”
When she blanched, his muscles seemed to tighten all at once. “Please tell me your father is none of those things.”
“He’s not.”
Nick’s patience started to run out. “Then what?”
She hesitated. “Must you insist?”
“Yes!”
Victoria scowled back at him. “There’s no need to bark at me.”
“Clearly there is, since your delicacy is making this conversation ridiculously convoluted.”
“Oh, very well. If you must know, I’m the natural daughter of His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent.”
He nearly fell out of his chair. “You’re what?”
“You heard me. The Prince Regent had a brief affair with my mother when he was first staying in Brighton. I was the result,” she finished sarcastically.
He stared at her, taking in her fiery blush and her defiant but touching glare. Something bubbled inside his chest, fizzy and hilarious. The poor lass thought that being the by-blow of a prince—the next king, for God’s sake—would put him off.
“Say something,” she said tersely.
“I—” Nick pressed a hand to his lips.
She eyed him with distaste. “My lord, perhaps you now understand how unsuitable I am to be your wife, and why it’s better that I leave your employ as soon as possible. I only ask that you not penalize me for something that was beyond my control, and hope you will be generous enough to write a recommendation based on my teaching skills and work, not my unfortunate background.”
Her absurd little speech did it. Nick burst out laughing, doubling over to clutch his stomach. When he finally caught his breath, he looked up to meet Victoria’s best governess glare. That, unfortunately, only sent him off again.
“Lord Arnprior, I don’t know how you can find any of this amusing,” she said in freezing tones.
Nick sucked in a breath and wiped his eyes. “Sir Dominic is aware of your parental history, I’m sure.”
“Yes, and you’re not to hold it against him for not telling you. He was only trying to protect me.”
“I won’t. And so you’re also cousin to Alec Gilbride.”
“Again, that is correct, although I didn’t know that until just before I came to Kinglas.”
“That cheeky bastard. How dare he not tell me?” Nick laughed again. The entire thing was so gloriously ridiculous. His prim, proper governess was the daughter of one of the biggest scoundrels in England’s history.
Of course, that also meant she had the bluest of blood running through her veins.
“I truly don’t know why you’re laughing,” she said grumpily.
“Because it’s sweet but utterly silly that you believed I would hold such a thing against you. Love, you do realize that many royal by-blows marry exceedingly well, and often have titles conferred upon them.”
She’d blushed, probably at his term of endearment. “Yes, but they’re men, for one thing.”
“Not all. There’s the Duchess of Leverton. She’s the Duke of Cumberland’s daughter.”
She pushed her lower lip out, as if thinking. Nick had to resist the urge to lean over and nip it.
“True, but the duchess comes from a very good family to begin with,” she said. “I do not.”
“Your family is entirely respectable, Victoria—hard-working and prosperous by your own account. They pose no impediment whatsoever, as far as I’m concerned.”
He got up and moved around to her side of the table, settling into the seat next to her. When he took her hand, she swallowed nervously but didn’t pull away.
“I know the circumstances are not ideal,” he said gently. “But you would do me a great honor if you would consent to be my wife.”
“Far from ideal,” she protested, even as she tightly clung to his hand. “You’re an earl, and I’m—”
“The daughter of the Prince Regent.”
“The daughter of a barmaid. And I’m also an entirely ordinary governess.”
“You’re not ordinary in the least. And I can tell you unequivocally that I would be delighted to be your husband.” Every moment that passed made him more certain of that simple fact.
She seemed to waver, but then pulled her hand away. “It’s very kind of you, my lord, but you have done me no wrong. There is absolutely no need for you to feel obliged to marry me.”
The woman was both exceedingly principled and insanely stubborn.
“I suspect your father would not agree.” He scrubbed a hand thoughtfully over his chin. “Nor would Sir Dominic. Unless we marry, he’ll shoot me when he finds out what we’ve done.”
“I . . . I . . .” she stammered.
He snapped his fingers. “Hang on. I’ll write to your father and ask his opinion in the matter.”
She gaped at him. “The Regent?”
“It is commonly accepted to ask a father for permission to marry his daughter, is it not?”
She quickly realized he was twitting her. “Now, see here,” she started, waving a finger at him.
He gently grasped her hand. “You know I’m just teasing, sweet lass. No need to fall into a tizzy.”
Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Considering his black state of mind only last night, she was a bloody miracle worker.
When he gently cupped her cheek, the remaining fight seemed to go out of her.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“Say yes,” he whispered back.
She swayed toward him, as if about to do just that, when the door flew open. Victoria jerked away as the twins charged into the room.
“Is it true?” Graeme asked. “Are you going to marry Miss Knight?”
Nick gritted his teeth. “Your grandfather told you?”
“Yes,” said Grant, smiling at Victoria. “You should say yes, miss. Nick is a splendid chap, really. And if you marry him, then you’ll be our sister, and you’ll have even more time to teach us how to be gentlemen and find proper wives.”
She gave the twins a horrified look before turning her gaze back on Nick. He was tempted to curse, but instead he spread his hands in a placating gesture.
“Really, how can you say no to such a tempting offer?” he asked.
She seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. “You’re demented, all of you,” she finally said.
Then she got up and stalked from the room.