Thorn in My Heart (39 page)

Jamie grimaced. “So you've mentioned. Many times.” With his uncle, all roads led to money. His own courtship of Rose had quiedy lined Lachlan's pockets with silver saved on farm labor, yet every penny spent on the wedding had been duly announced. “You've yet to tell me how we can have a wedding without a bride, Uncle.”

“Simple.” The sweep of his hand took in the whole of Auchengray, as if he'd scrubbed and polished it himself. “Our mounts are groomed, the piper and fiddler arranged, the feast prepared and paid in full. Up the stair your cousin is holding a wedding gown that lacks only a wearer. Let Leana serve as Roses proxy, and this day is half-done.”

“Her…her proxy?” Jamie's mouth dried to dust. “Can such a thing be done?”

“Oh, aye.” Lachlan looked pleased with himself. “Leana would merely be standing in Rose's place for the ceremony itself. The proper names would be spoken, the binding vows said. If at any moment Rose should appear, Leana would exchange places with her at once.”

Jamie shook his head in disbelief. “Even if it made sense to do so, Leana would never agree to it.”

Lachlan's gaze was even. “She will, if you're the one who asks her, Jamie.”

“But I cannot ask
Rose
, and it's her opinion that matters. Does the lass not deserve to attend her own wedding?”

“Jamie, Jamie.” Lachlan slowly shook his head, as though dealing with a stubborn schoolboy. “Rose will be along any minute. We're just moving things forward. Getting ready for her to join us.”

Jamie rubbed the heel of his hand across his brow, wishing the tension would ease. “If I could know that Rose would want this—”

“What Rose wants is to be married,” Lachlan interrupted, his tone persuasive. “Just as you do, Jamie. If she arrives later tonight, she'll simply join the bridal supper, and then you two can…ah, begin your…your own
private
ceremony without further delay.” Lachlan's voice dropped to a warm drone. “It's the marriage that matters, Jamie. Not the wedding.”

Jamie stared at the man, troubled by his smooth words and easy answers. So like Rowena.
So like you, Jamie.
The realization stunned him. Weren't his own words to Alec McKie smooth as old whisky, gliding down easy, yet with a fearsome bite at the last swallow? The memory of that painful night swirled in Jamie's head, stirring up troubling questions with no simple answers. Was Lachlan McBride merely being
practical? Was money the only concern, or were there other reasons his uncle didn't bother to mention?

No matter.
He could not risk disappointing Rose. “I say we postpone the wedding. Wait until Rose is safely here.”

Lachlan arched his brows. “And what if that is tomorrow, or the next day? How could we inform our guests on such short notice? It would be days, even weeks, before all the preparations could be made again. Not to mention Nedas efforts in the kitchen gone to ruin. And my good money thrown on the dunghill, let us not forget.”

“No danger of forgetting that,” Jamie muttered. Lachlan was a canny one, anticipating every argument and answering it as well. It was true; they could hardly keep everyone waiting indefinitely. What the man suggested had some merit. Be done with the ceremony. Formalities held little appeal. It was all over in an hour, no matter who might be standing in the kirk.

“Give it some thought, lad.” Lachlan placed another dram before him. “And while you do, drink to your health in the new year.”

Jamie sipped the whisky absendy, his mind traveling the road to Twyneholm, looking for a lost bride. A peal of laughter at the front door startled him from his reverie, as a chorus of boisterous voices burst into song.

Lachlan swept his arm toward the door. “Your wedding guests. The first of many. If the ceremony is to start on schedule, we must begin our procession to the kirk at two o'clock, accompanied by our neighbors. What shall we tell them, Nephew?”

Jamie tossed down the last of his dram and stood, weaving ever so slighdy. “Tell them we'll wait.” He swallowed, difficult as it was. “Wait all day and all night if we must.”

“Wait?” Lachlan's cordial tone lost its warmth. “Wait for what?”

“Wait for Rose.”

Lachlan turned his back to the door and his face toward Jamie. His features grew hard as flint and his eyes sharp as tinder. “We will not wait, Jamie. This wedding will take place today, or this wedding will not take place at all.”

“Not take place?” Jamie stared at the man, stunned. “You cannot mean what you re saying.”

“I mean every word. I've tried to make this easy for you, James, but since you insist on being stubborn, then I must be firm.” His uncle stepped closer. Instinctively Jamie drew back. “If you do not proceed with your wedding as planned, you will have no choice but to work for me seven months to return all the money I've invested in this
ill-paid day.
And then we shall see whether or not you 11 be marrying my daughter.”

“Seven months?”]amit
fell another step back, reeling. The man was mad. “Uncle, I'll not work for you
seven more hours!
When Rose arrives—and she will soon, or I'll go find her myself—we'll make haste to Gretna Green and marry there.”

“Gretna Green, with a lass of fifteen?
Och! You
do not know the documents of your own faith. According to the First Book of Discipline, ‘No persons should be married without consent of the parents.’
My
consent, Jamie.”

Jamie throtded him with his words. “They do not require such things at Gretna Green.”

“Aye, but some things
are
required, Jamie. Gretna Green is forty miles hence. Unless you intend to walk, you would be riding on a mount stolen from my stables, with the sheriff on your heels, and no silver in your pocket.” Lachlan folded his arms across his chest, a victor's stance. “Would you spend your wedding night alone, under a jailer's lock and key? Or would you prefer to be sleeping soundly in your bed, waiting for your bride to join you? The choice is yours, Jamie.”

Near the kirk, but far from grace.

S
COTTISH
P
ROVERB

I
have no choice.” The admission cost Jamie everything.

Lachlan lifted one eyebrow in acknowledgment. “Then I suggest you tap on Leana's bedroom door and find out if the lass is willing to serve as her sisters proxy. See that she wears her sisters gown as well, or the cost of it will be wasted.”

Leuna.
His last hope. Jamie tugged his waistcoat in place and smoothed his cravat. “Your older daughter may put an end to your scheme and refuse. And when she does, I will ride off to find Rose.”

“Nae, you will not, for my stables are not yours to command. As to Leana, youVe naught to fear on that score, lad.” His uncle lifted his empty glass, his eyes merry as Auld Nicks. “I know my daughter better than you do at the moment. Here's to your success in wooing Leana to our plan.”

“Krarplan.” Jamie ground out the words, heading for the door.

“Yours now,” Lachlan called after him.

No, yours.
Jamie strode toward the stair, led by his chin. It was his mother all over again, forcing him to lie to get what he wanted. He'd wanted Glentrool; when he'd done as Rowena said and fooled his father, Glentrool was his. He wanted Rose; if he did what Lachlan said and persuaded Leana, Rose would be his.

Since he wanted an heir, and quickly, would that also require a bit of swickerie?

Gritting his teeth, he took the steps two at a time, anxious to have his discussion with Leana behind him. He did not know her as well as her father did, but he knew her well enough. She would be angry or hurt or appalled, all for good reason.

Lilting voices floated down the stair to greet him. When he reached the door, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves and wished he'd had another whisky. Better still, none at all. He knocked sharply and heard the room grow silent.

The door opened. A flock of females in colorful gowns stood before him, eyes wide, mouths agape. He placed one foot in the room, and the women shrank back, except for Leana. She stepped out from among them like a flower being lifted from a bouquet.

“Y-you're not meant to come in, Jamie.” She moved closer, blocking his view. “Roses gown is here, remember?”

“Aye, but Rose is not.” He took her firmly by the hand and pulled her into the empty upstairs hall. Promising the others he would return her in due course, Jamie shut the door soundly behind them and led her toward a quiet corner. “We must speak, Leana.”

“What news of Rose? We've been wound as tight as spools, listening for her voice on the stair.”

“No news.” He could not mask his concern. “Lachlan sent a servant to look for her, though it may take hours before we hear word.”

“Poor Jamie.” Her eyes filled with sympathy. “How hard this must be for you.”

He nodded, drawing the first deep breath he'd taken all morning. “More difficult than I can say.” How like Leana to think first of him and not of herself.

She was dressed in a new gown, he noticed. Dark as claret and covered with embroidery. The rich color warmed her skin, adding roses to her cheeks where there were none, the contrast making her eyes more like a May sky than a December landscape. A white silk chemise above the neckline covered what the gown did not, exposing her long, pale throat. Her hair was down, as befitted a maiden, flowing like a golden wave across her shoulders, with a spray of white satin flowers and pearls crowning her hair. He hadn't paid attention to the others. Were they all dressed so bonny?

His tongue seemed to stick in his mouth for a moment while she waited patiently for him to explain himself. Perhaps it was the whisky.
Fractious stuff, that. “Leana, we don't know how long Rose may be delayed. Could be another hour or another day. Even two.” When she only nodded, he plunged in without giving his words much thought. “Your father suggests we go on with the wedding.”

“Go on?” Leana stared at him as though he'd sprouted horns. “Without Rose?”

Jamie nodded. “My response exacdy.” He saw in her eyes the same disbelief he'd felt moments earlier. But he had no choice. Neither did she. Leana must be convinced.

He hurried to share the rest of it while he still could recall Lachlans endless list of reasons. “As your father
stes
it, the plans are made, the guests are here, the horses are groomed, the bills are paid, the minister awaits at the kirk, the piper and fiddler are engaged, the tables groan under the weight of the bridal supper, and news of the wedding has been spread about the parish. All will be for naught if we postpone the wedding.”

“Jamie, I don't understand.” Leana studied his face, seeking answers he hoped she wouldn't find. “All those things are true, but without Rose, there can be no wedding. She's the bride, Jamie. It is her day, don't you see?” She smiled, though only with her mouth. “You can hardly stand before Reverend Gordon and speak the vows to yourself.”

“Nae,” he agreed, meeting her gaze, “but I could speak them to you.”

Leana's hand fluttered to her throat. “Wh-what do you mean, you could speak the vows to me?”

Och!
He'd already made a mess of things. “I…that is, your father and I…thought you should serve as Rose's…proxy.”

“Proxy?”

“Aye. You would stand in for her. At the kirk.”

She slowly shook her head. “Jamie, I know what a proxy is, but why? Begging your pardon, the idea makes no sense at all. Don't you want to wait for Rose?”

“Aye, I do, more than I can possibly say. But we can't wait. I mean, we shouldn't.” He touched her sleeve, imploring her. “Don't you see, Leana? The wedding gown, the bridal supper, the musicians—all will be
for naught if we tarry much longer. Your father put it best: ‘Tis the marriage that matters, not the wedding.”

“How like my father to say that.” Her blue-gray eyes regarded him so keenly Jamie feared she might see the truth. And she did. “Jamie, I have a feeling this notion of a proxy bride is not your idea.”

What had Rose told him once? That it was impossible to lie to Leana?
Aye, lass. You were right.
He cleared his throat as though doing so might clear his muddled mind. “Whose idea it was, I cannot say. I only know that if there is ever to be a wedding, it must be today.”

“Ah.” Her gaze reflected what was not said. “And if Rose arrives, she would take my place?”

He nodded gamely. Leana had all but agreed. “That's the happy ending all three of us would hope for, isn't it?”

“Is it?” She turned her head to stare out the window at the darkening sky. “Jamie, how will you feel saying those vows to me?”

“Grateful.” He gently turned her face back toward his. “Grateful to have a cousin who cares for me enough to help me out of a thorny predicament.”

“You forget, Jamie. My feelings go deeper than that.”

Oh, Leana.
How could he make her understand? “I've not forgotten, lass.” His voice lowered yet another note. “Your…your devotion touches me.”

“Touches you where? Here?” She brushed her fingers across his brow. “Or here?” She pressed her hand against his heart. “I am not a child, Jamie. You need not hide the truth from me, afraid I might run off crying.”

“I'm not afraid of your tears, Leana.” He captured her hand and kissed it lightly, then lowered it to her side. “Heaven knows, your sister weeps enough for five women. And I have nothing to hide.” When a faint smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, he realized the folly of his words and shrugged, making light of it. “Nothing hidden that matters anyway. Nothing worth seeing or hearing.”

The smile faded without blooming. “Jamie, I know why you came to Auchengray.”

He froze. “What is it you know?”

“Your parents insisted you marry one of your cousins, and your only choice was
which
cousin. You chose Rose almost from the very first. That is what I know.”