A Borrowed Scot by Karen Ranney Read Free Book Online

of Conley for several ticking moments.
    The hours before dawn had found him awake, attempting to reason a way out of this predicament. He hadn’t come up with a solution. Nor could he standing there.
    “I’ll marry her,” he said. “Damn it, I’ll marry her.”
    M rs. Gardiner woke her from a surprisingly restful sleep. The sleep of the just, the unrepentant, the innocent, which hardly applied in her situation but for which Veronica was grateful.
    “Pardon me, miss, but His Lordship wishes you to meet him downstairs.”
    She glanced down at the hated brown robe.
    “I’ll see if one of the maids has a dress you can borrow,” Mrs. Gardiner said, correctly interpreting her look.
    She shook her head. “Never mind,” she said. Montgomery Fairfax had already seen her attire—and more.
    “You have no shoes on, miss.”
    She glanced down at her feet as if just then discovering them bare.
    “I’ve lost them,” she said, then smiled at the housekeeper to indicate that it was no great loss. Compared to the loss of her home, security, and whatever future she might have had as a poor relation in her uncle’s home, what was a pair of shoes?
    She slipped behind the screen, performed her morning ablutions, and, once finished, left the room and descended the steps. Halting at the landing, she stared down at Uncle Bertrand, and behind him, Adam and Algernon.
    Uncle Bertrand glanced up at her. She would not make the mistake of speaking first. She might not be as learned as her cousins in the ways of London, but she was astute when it came to people.
    Uncle Bertrand liked to be in charge.
    He gave her a disgusted glance.
    In all honesty, she could not blame him for being annoyed at her appearance. She’d not brushed her hair, and she was as improperly attired as she’d been the night before.
    “Is Mr. Fairfax not here?” she asked, descending the rest of the steps.
    “He’s the 11 th Lord Fairfax of Doncaster, and more properly referred to as His Lordship. And he’s given us the privacy necessary for this meeting.”
    Before she could speak, he waved his hand toward the door.
    “You’re coming home,” he said.
    Had he forgiven her?
    What had Montgomery Fairfax said to him to bring about this great change?
    She clasped her hands in front of her, not about to annoy her uncle with too many questions.
    “Thank you for forgiving me, Uncle,” she said. The gratitude she felt was tempered by the knowledge that she would, no doubt, have to pay for her uncle’s largesse in the future.
    “I haven’t forgiven you,” he said flatly. “You’ll remain with us until His Lordship acquires a special license. You’re to be married, Veronica.”
    Stunned, she could only stare at her uncle.
    When she made no comment, he continued. “His Lordship understands that, while the situation was in no way of his doing, any other action would be unthinkable.”
    “Married?” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know the man, Uncle.”
    “You should have thought of that before appearing with him naked.”
    How odd she couldn’t think at the moment.
    “You should count yourself fortunate, indeed. His Lordship is quite a wealthy man. At least you will be well provided for, unlike your mother.”
    “My father was a well-respected scholar,” she said. “A teacher.”
    “Who had not held a post since before you were born. He dabbled in poetry, Veronica,” he said, the depth of his loathing evident in the disdain dripping from each word.
    Her father’s poetry was beautiful, lyrical, and moving. None of it had survived, however. Yet if she could have shown her uncle, she was sure that he would have appreciated her father’s great talent.
    “Your mother’s inheritance provided a roof over your head.”
    To that, she had no answer.
    He turned and nodded to his sons. Neither Algernon nor Adam had looked directly at her. They only stepped aside so she could precede them, following Uncle Bertrand out the door.
    Veronica managed to keep