Page 3 of This Laird of Mine

“Milord, yer scarin’ me. Ye got that look yer brother had right before he drank himself tae death.” Fin’s voice brought Jules’s gaze around.

Jules shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. The motion did nothing as questions raced through his mind. For his servant’s sake, Jules pasted on a smile. “You need not worry, Fin. I am not so weak a man as that. I have endured much worse than this.” At least he hoped he had.

Jules continued. “It looks as though Kildare Manor will have no time for grief. We will be having visitors on Saturday. I will arrange for a few maids to come up from town to help with the preparations.”

Fin’s brow furrowed. “I mean ye no dishonor, milord, but we’ve no funds fer food, let alone cleanin’ women.”

Jules nodded as he dug his booted toe into the thick carpet beneath his soles. “I have a notion of where I can gather a few funds, at least enough to hold off the creditors for a while longer until I figure things out.”

Fin stood. “Very well, milord. You’d best enjoy yer tea before it grows cold. That was the last of the tea leaves. If ye need somethin’ stronger, there’s plenty of whiskey still.”

Jules nodded as the servant shuffled out of the chamber, leaving him in silence. Whiskey seemed like a better option, Jules thought as he reached for the tea and poured himself a cup. Perhaps, in time, it would be his only option, just as it had been for his brother. But for now, he had work to do and a fake wife to meet.

What kind of woman pretended to be a man’s wife? Not the kind of woman he would take to wife, that was for certain. Would it be better to tell his friends what he had done or to go along with this scheming stranger who would soon arrive with the few people in his life who he trusted? Frustration and despair rose in Jules until he could scarcely bear it.

The truth was he needed Claire, any Claire, to help him move past his feelings for Jane, especially when she arrived in the arms of her husband. Could he, in turn, use this woman to help him in his deception, at least until Jane and Nicholas left?

He had loved Jane from the moment they first met ten years ago. While he had never been certain if she returned that love, over the years he had convinced himself that the lack of chemistry between them was not what mattered. To him, Jane was perfect—ethereal, brave, intelligent, and kind. Seeing her again would only fan his devotion once more, despite her married state. And yet, this very real Claire might be the very distraction he needed.

He could accept the schemer and play along with her, acting as husband and wife. But once they were alone, he would discover what was behind this imposter’s game. In the meanwhile, for better or worse, definitely poorer than richer, a living, breathing Claire MacIntyre, Lady Kildare, would soon enter his life.

The carriage rumbled along the dirt road, pitching its passengers left and right as it had for the last hour. The roads this far north in Scotland were rough, just like its men. Claire MacIntyre had barely finished the thought as she hit the squabs of the carriage once more. The padding did nothing to soften the jolt of the wood biting into her flesh. Only Sir David Buchanan rode somewhat in comfort on his own horse behind the carriage.

The heat of the day was behind them, and evening approached as they continued on, only stopping briefly at a roadside inn to allow the horses to rest, and to grab a quick bite of luncheon. The meat pie had seemed like a good idea an hour ago. Now it sat like a leaden weight in Claire’s stomach. She pressed her hands over her abdomen, as though holding back the upset.

“Is all well?” Jane asked.

At Jane’s concerned look, Claire straightened, then smoothed her gray linen skirts. “It’s merely nerves at seeing my beloved again.”

Or for the first time.

Claire was spared from having to elaborate as they hit yet another rut in the road that pitched them all to the left. When the carriage righted itself, Claire put off more discussion by staring out the small window near her.

For the first four hours of their trip, the grandeur of Scotland’s countryside with its deep valleys and rolling hills all covered in a thick layer of heather relieved her anxiety. Yet now, as they progressed closer to their goal, Claire’s tension became a palpable thing.

The carriage gave another violent, creaking lurch to the right. Claire’s shoulder banged into Lady Margaret Galloway’s. “My apologies, milady.”

“Margaret. Please just call me Margaret. No need for such formality among us. We are all friends,” the older woman said with a wink at her husband, next to her, and to Lord Nicholas Kincaid, who sat beside Jane.

“The roads up here are in desperate need of repair,” Jane said with an apologetic smile. Jane, Margaret, and Lord Galloway had accepted Claire as Jules’s wife without hesitation. Nicholas had been more reserved in his judgment. He studied her even now with a calculating look. Could he know the truth?

Claire straightened beneath his regard just as the carriage gave another teeth-jarring lurch. “The road to paradise is not supposed to be smooth,” she said brightly. “Seeing my beloved again will be worth whatever trials await us on this journey.”

“I can see why Jules fell in love with you.” Jane’s smile broadened. “He is a fortunate man, but then again, you are a fortunate woman. Jules is just as his name proclaims, a jewel among men.”

An uncontrollable tremor of dread shot through Claire. That was not what she had been told by the dark-cloaked figure who had forced her into this marriage. Her husband, she’d been informed, was a wicked rogue with a reputation for carousing Scotland’s local villages as well as its lustiest locales late into the night. He had started as a youth, and had continued his craven debauchery until he had been imprisoned for the mysterious death of his own stepmother. He had been sentenced to hang, but was spared by the proof of innocence Jane had supplied.

And yet, there were still rumors of his gambling and carousing. Claire’s skin flinched at the thought of joining her life with his.

She pressed her hand against her chest as if to physically quell the fear that had suddenly arisen. No matter who or what he was, she had no choice but to achieve her goal. She had to make Jules MacIntyre fall in love with her, then abandon him.

That was the agreement she had made. In a fortnight, he had to profess his devotion to her or else Penelope, Anna, and Eloise would pay for her failure.

Claire’s fingers rose to the small silver locket that weighed against her chest. Her breath caught as her fingers clasped the cool metal. The three young women—all of whom were abandoned after the death of their parents, just like Claire—were her wards. She’d been told they would be tortured and killed if she did not do as instructed.

“Claire, are you certain you are well?” Jane’s voice cut through the dark thoughts swirling through Claire’s mind.

She startled, releasing the locket, and forced a nonchalant smile. “You remember what it was like to be a new bride?”