Her Highland Boss: The Earl's Convenient Wife / In the Boss's Castle / Her Hot Highland Doc. Marion Lennox
time...’
It was the first time he’d spoken to her out of the hearing of their guests. As an opening to a marriage it was hardly encouraging.
‘Um...’ Jeanie wasn’t too sure where to go.
‘You’ve been married three times.’ His mind was obviously in a repetitive loop, one that he didn’t like a bit. His hands were clenched white on the steering wheel. He was going too fast for this road.
‘Cattle and sheep have the right of way here,’ she reminded him. ‘And the cattle are tough wee beasties. You round a bend too fast and you’ll have a horn through your windscreen.’
‘We’re not talking about cattle.’
‘Right,’ she said and subsided. His car. His problem.
‘Three...’ he said again and she risked a glance at his face. Grim as death. As if she’d conned him?
‘Okay, as of today, I’ve been married three times.’
He was keeping his temper under control but she could feel the pressure building.
‘Did my grandmother know?’ His incredulity was like a flame held to a wick of an already ticking bomb.
But if he thought he had sole rights to anger, he had another thought coming. As if she’d deceive Eileen...
‘Of course she knew. Eileen knew everything about me. I...loved her.’
And the look he threw her was so filled with scorn she flinched and clenched her hands in her lap and looked the other way.
Silence. Silence, silence and more silence. Maybe that’s what this marriage will be all about, she thought bleakly. One roof, but strangers. Silence, with undercurrents of...hatred? That was what it felt like. As if the man beside her hated her.
‘Was he rich, too?’ Alasdair asked and enough was enough.
‘Stop.’
‘What...?’
‘Stop the car this instant.’
‘Why should I?’
But they were rounding a tight bend, where even Alasdair had to slow. She unclipped her seat belt and pushed her door wide. ‘Stop now because I’m getting out, whether you’ve stopped or not. Three, two...’
He jammed on the brakes and she was out of the door before they were completely still.
He climbed out after her. ‘What the...?’
‘I’m walking,’ she told him. ‘I don’t do dinner for guests but seeing you live at the castle now you can have the run of the kitchen. Make yourself what you like. Have a happy marriage, Alasdair McBride. Your dislike of me means we need to be as far apart as we can, so we might as well start now.’
And she turned and started stomping down the road.
* * *
She could do this. It was only three miles, and if there was one thing Jeanie had learned to do over the years, it was walk. She loved this country. She loved the wildness of it, the sheer natural beauty. She knew every nook and cranny of the island. She knew the wild creatures. The sheep hardly startled at her coming and she knew each of the highland cattle by name.
But she was currently wearing a floaty dress and heels. Not stilettos, she conceded, thanking her lucky stars, but they were kitten heels and she wasn’t accustomed to kitten heels.
Maybe when Alasdair was out of sight she’d slip them off and walk barefoot.
Ouch.
Nevertheless, a girl had some pride. She’d made her bed and she needed to lie on it. Or walk.
She walked. There was no sound of an engine behind her but she wasn’t looking back.
And then a hand landed on her shoulder and she almost yelped. Almost. A girl had some pride.
‘Don’t,’ she managed and pulled away to keep stomping. And then she asked, because she couldn’t help herself, ‘Where did you learn to walk like a cat?’
‘Deerstalking. As a kid. My grandpa gave me a camera for my eighth birthday.’
‘You mean you don’t have fifty sets of antlers on your sitting-room walls back in Edinburgh?’ She was still stomping.
‘Nary an antler. Jeanie—’
‘Mrs McBride to you.’
‘Lady Jean,’ he said and she stopped dead and closed her eyes. Lady Jean...
Her dad would be cock-a-hoop. He’d be drunk by now, she thought, boasting to all and sundry that his girl was now lady of the island.
His girl.
Rory... She’d never been her father’s girl, but Rory used to call her that.
‘My lass. My sweet island lassie, my good luck charm, the love of my life...’
That this man could possibly infer she’d married for money...
‘Go away,’ she breathed. ‘Leave me be and take your title and your stupid, cruel misconceptions with you.’
And she started walking again.
To her fury he fell in beside her.
‘Go away.’
‘We need to talk.’
‘Your car’s on a blind bend.’
‘This is my land.’
‘Your land?’
There was a moment’s loaded pause. She didn’t stop walking.
‘Okay, your land,’ he conceded at last. ‘The access road’s on the castle title. As of marrying, as of today, it’s yours.’
‘You get the entire Duncairn company. Does that mean you’re a bigger fortune hunter than me?’
‘I guess it does,’ he said. ‘But at least my motive is pure. How much of Alan’s money do you have left?’
And there was another statement to take her breath away. She was finding it hard to breathe. Really hard.
Time for some home truths? More than time. She didn’t want sympathy, but this...
‘You’d think,’ she managed, slowly, because each word was costing an almost superhuman effort, ‘that you’d have done some homework on your intended bride. This is a business deal. If you’re buying, Alasdair McBride, surely you should have checked out the goods before purchase.’
‘It seems I should.’ He was striding beside her. What did he think he was doing? Abandoning the SUV and hiking all the way to the castle?
‘I have guests booked in at four this afternoon,’ she hissed. ‘They’ll be coming round that bend. Your car is blocking the way.’
‘You mean it’s blocking your profits?’
Profits. She stopped mid-stride and closed her eyes. She counted to ten and then another ten. She tried to do a bit of deep breathing. Her fingers clenched and re-clenched.
Nothing was working. She opened her eyes and he was still looking at her as if she was tainted goods, a bad smell. He’d married someone he loathed.
Someone who married for profit... Of all the things she’d ever been accused of...
She smacked him.
* * *
She’d never smacked a man in her life. She’d never smacked anyone. She was a woman who used Kindly Mousers and carried the captured mice half a mile to release them. She swore they beat her back to the castle but still she kept trying. She caught spiders and put them outside. She put up with dogs under