A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,117

Through it all they grinned at each other like children pulling off the greatest prank in the world, and when the minister pronounced them married, Drew lifted her off her feet for a kiss so passionate, the minister coughed and his wife giggled.

When they reached Edinburgh, his family descended on them with cries that changed quickly from alarm and curiosity to happiness. Even though they arrived late, Louisa St. James brought out a bottle of fine sherry to toast them, enfolding Ilsa in a warm embrace and murmuring how pleased she was to have another daughter.

Bella, Winnie, and Agnes mobbed her. “I knew he wanted to marry you,” cried Bella joyfully. “Thank heavens you said yes!”

“Oh, Drew, well done!” Winnie flung her arms around his neck before running back to Ilsa’s side. “And you, accepting him even when he looks like a hermit from the mountains!”

Drew struck a pose at that, stroking his beard. “Oh, Winnie, how you tempt me to worse . . .”

She put out her tongue at him. “As if you ever cared what I think! Only now you’ll have to bow to Ilsa’s wishes . . .”

“You will have your hands full, taming him,” whispered Agnes with a laugh.

I won’t tame him, thought Ilsa with a secret smile at her new husband. I love him wild.

Going home to Jean was bittersweet. The news of her marriage pleased Jean, but the rest . . . Ilsa had rehearsed her story, but when she said Papa was missing and she didn’t believe he would ever be found, her aunt gave a single heart-rending wail before collapsing in silent tears that smote her heart. Only Drew’s presence gave her the strength to keep her word, and not whisper to her aunt that Papa was safe. Instead she held her aunt and wept with her, hoping that someday it would be possible to tell her the truth.

Drew went to confront the furious sheriff-clerk and procurator-fiscal, once more respectably shaved and dressed like a proper Englishman. He put the fear of God into David MacGill, the “turncoat solicitor” as Ilsa called him, excoriating the man for his management of Stormont Palace and threatening to have him sacked. He offered one last chance for the man to win back his favor by defending Ilsa. Spurred into sycophancy again, MacGill provided a fiery argument that dissuaded the sheriff from action against Drew or Ilsa—indeed, he even wrung an apology from the sheriff for searching her house.

When Mr. Lorde arrived in Edinburgh three weeks later with the sorrowful news that a man fitting William Fletcher’s description had been hauled, drowned, from the River Clyde, the authorities were all too ready to accept it. It was printed in the paper, along with a smaller notice that victims of the recent robberies should apply for aid to Felix Duncan, who had agreed to handle paying out the funds Ilsa set aside from Papa’s estate.

Ilsa held Jean again as her aunt shed more tears, but this time grief mixed with relief.

“He would prefer this rather than be hanged by his neighbors and former friends,” Jean choked. “But oh! How I will miss him, my dear.”

“He is at peace this way,” was all Ilsa could say.

Mr. Lorde offered, with Drew’s strong endorsement, to spare her meeting Liam, but Ilsa refused. She had decided she must do this for herself—and for Papa. She sent for him, the half brother she’d never really known or liked, and they met in the drawing room of her house. Drew lurked outside, making sure Liam knew he was there.

“So,” Liam drawled in bitter amusement when Drew had gone out and closed the door. “I suppose I should congratulate you on your triumph. A future duchess! How pleased your father would have been. He always was one for appearances and influence.”

Ilsa regarded him steadily. “As you know, my father was discovered drowned in Glasgow.”

“Tragically,” said Liam with a cold twist to his lips.

“Thank you for your condolences.” Ilsa picked up the letter Mr. Lorde had brought. She had seen it before, that terrible day when Papa revealed the truth, and couldn’t wait to get rid of it now. “He made you a bequest in his will, which his solicitor provided to me. This was left among his papers for you.”

Looking smug, Liam took the letter.

“I know you never cared for me,” Ilsa went on. Drew had told her to leave it, but she had to know why Liam hated her. “But I always remarked