July, 1802

 

Alexander MacGregor, only son and heir to Inverdeem, was hiding in the bushes from a slip of a girl.

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this.

For two weeks every single summer, he had to put up with the little sprat.

It wasn’t fair. She was but fourteen to his sixteen, and his entire life he’d known he’d have to marry the ugly little pug.

Must she follow him around, as well?

So what if their mothers were the best of friends? Did that mean they’d had to betroth them? He’d known from the moment he’d been old enough to understand, that they were to be married.

Everyone knew it.

Curse her hide, anyway.

His father had taken an English bride, and his mother had gotten it into her head when her dearest friend gave birth to a daughter in England that their two children should be betrothed.

Why his father had gone along with it, he didn’t know.

Well, he did. His father was canny, and the girl’s family came from wealth. Not only would his oldest son inherit his properties, but his bride would bring even more to the MacGregor coffers.

But did she have to follow him everywhere? He dreaded the month of July the entire year. He always did.

“There you are! I found you!”

Feeling foolish, his jaw set and he rolled his eyes before standing and turning. He considered simply trying to outrun her, wondered if that was even possible, and decided not to subject himself to the indignity, and the amusement, of anyone watching. “So ye did.” His tone was sour.

“What’s the matter with you today? You are always in a bad mood.”

He looked down into her brown eyes, always sparkling with fun and mischief, and at her frizzy red hair and her stained dress. Frizzy Lizzie. Why did she have to be so ugly? His anger got the better of him and he clenched his teeth. “Mayhap I just wished a moment alone.”

“What for?” Lizzie seemed genuinely confused, and he felt a little bad.

Both his mother and father had reminded him numerous times, that she was his future bride, and he needed to be kind to her or he might be sorry later.

Resentment over that fact welled within him once more, and kindness flew out the window. “Why do ye have to follow me everywhere?”

Lizzie glanced around as if looking for an answer to his question. “Don’t you wish to play with me?”

“No, I doonae wish tae play with ye. Yer a girl, and what are girls good for anyway?” Even as he said the words, he knew what he meant was what was she good for, because girls had certainly garnered his interest as of late. Especially their neighbor’s daughter. Blonde, with China blue eyes, and a giggle that set his heart racing.

Agatha.

Even her name was beautiful.

He looked at his future wife in disgust. Red-haired, freckled, and flat-chested. He knew in his mind that her childish figure wouldn’t last forever, but he resented the fact he was bound to her.

Unable to stand the sight of her, he strode away, and once again she followed, close on his heels.

She grabbed his arm. “What’s the matter?”

He shook her off.

She followed.

This would be the last year they were thrown together, as he’d be going off to school, and then the military. That made him think. He had to admit they’d had some fun times together. Last year they’d rescued a dog outside of Huntington Hall, her family seat in Lincolnshire. She still had the mutt, named Fluffy now, and it had been fun. They’d built forts, foraged in the trees, floated on Rutledge Pond, but of late, the restrictions of her company were starting to chafe.

He wanted to kiss a lass.

Agatha to be precise.

He looked at the skinny girl in front of him and considered. If she was to be his, and he needed practice, then why not?

His gaze fell to her lips, which looked as soft as any girl’s.

Before he could think the better of it, he leaned forward, pressed their mouths together, and kissed her.

He straightened, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. Before he had a chance to examine his own reaction, Lizzie lifted her arm and wiped her sleeve across her mouth. “Ugh, you’re revolting! What did you do that for?”

Revolting? That wasn’t the reaction he been hoping for, and heat seared his face. His temper was quick to follow. She didn’t like his kisses? Well, he didn’t like her. “Yer spotty, skinny, and loudmouthed. I wish I was betrothed to Agatha! Why cannae ye look like her? Why cannae ye have blonde hair and blue eyes? Ye are the last girl in all of Britain that I would ever wish to marry!”

She looked stricken, even as her own face started to turn red. “Then I don’t want to marry you either!”

“Ye dinnae have a choice!”

“I do have a choice! I’ll tell my mother you kissed me, and she’ll slap your face and take me home!”

His ego still burned from her rejection over his kiss and now she threatened to tell her mother? Humiliation burned through him at the prospect. “Yer naught but a tattletale. A skinny, frizzy-haired, mud-eyed tattler!”

“You take that back!”

“I willnae take it back. Do ye think I dinnae have eyes in my head? If ye wish to know what a girl should look like, then go and look at Agatha. Blue eyes and blonde hair. Every girl should have such.”

Again she looked stricken and her lower lip trembled. “I’m not going to marry you anymore.”

He suddenly felt bad. “We dinnae have a choice. We never have.”

Her lip trembled all the more and she spun away, running toward Inverdeem Castle. To tell on him?

He turned and hurried in the opposite direction. She could say whatever she liked. She could tattle ’til the cows came home. But if they couldn’t find him, they couldn’t slap his face, could they?

He thought about Agatha once more, and wondered if he truly did kiss as poorly as Lizzie indicated. The thought made him mad all over again and he stomped off toward the wood.

He couldn’t go to school soon enough to suit him.

~~~

Lizzie chest ached. She couldn’t believe her mother was making her do this. “I refuse.”

Mother’s gaze was steely-eyed. “You will do it, and the sooner done, the sooner we will leave. If you don’t do it, we will stay here until the end of time.”

Mother’s hands were upon her hips, and Lizzie knew what that meant.

She looked past her mother to where Alexander’s mother was seated on a settee in the parlor, pretending not to hear a word of what was being said, though there was no way she could not. At least she was silent for once. “I hate him.” And she didn’t care if his own mother knew it.

“You don’t hate him; you’re just young. These things happen when emotions are high, and tiffs are to be expected. There’s a reason we get the two of you together every summer. It’s so you can get to know each other, learn to like each other, and learn how to resolve disputes.”

Indignation welled within her as Lizzie wondered if she should tell her mother that Alexander had kissed her! She’d be singing a different tune then, wouldn’t she? But the thought of him calling her a tattletale kept her silent.

Mother started to tap her toe.

Lizzie threw up her arms. “All right!” She stomped away with ill grace to the writing desk and plopped herself down upon the seat. She took quill in hand, and barely blotted it, not caring that splotches of ink dripped all over the page. The sooner she complied, the sooner they could leave, and that’s what needed to happen. She didn’t want to see his ugly face again, for the rest of her life if she could help it!

She held the pen over paper, and refrained from writing the words whirling in her mind. She’d write what her mother wished, and get it over with as quickly as possible.

 

Dear Alexander.

You kiss like a toad and I hate you. I’m sorry for the argument we had earlier. I wish you would fall in a bog and get lost forever! I hope you can forgive me for my part in it. If I ever see your ugly face again it will be far too soon. I hope you can visit sometime on a school break and I look forward to seeing you again. I hope you fall into a pond and get eaten by carp.

Yours truly,

Lady Elizabeth Huntington

 

She signed the letter with a flourish and handed it to her mother.

Mother quickly read it and smiled. “Well done, dear. Now go pack your things, and we’ll be on our way.”

Lizzie was simply grateful their two weeks were almost up, for if this had happened at the beginning, they would have had to stay longer.

Mother blew on the paper, and then put it in an envelope. She wrote Alexander’s name on the front. “Ready?”

The maid called from the other room.

Mother left the envelope on the desk, and wandered out with Mrs. MacGregor to talk to the maid about packing.

Lizzie quickly opened the envelope, withdrew the paper, and lifted the quill from the ink well and added, “P.S. I loathe you, at the bottom.

She blew on the paper, folded it into the envelope once more, melted a stick of wax in the fireplace, and dripped it on the back before pressing it with his mother’s seal.

Satisfaction flooded her and finally, she could smile again.