Some Like It Scot. Donna Kauffman

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СКАЧАТЬ I don’t suppose I can be too offended by that, given that it worked out well for me, at least in the immediate short term. But, let me ask you, would it have mattered who your friend had tracked down? You know, age, location, family situation, children, appearance? Or was the only prerequisite that she be single?”

      “I’m no’ marryin’ for love here,” he stated, partly to ease her mind, and partly because hearing it stated so baldly didn’t make him feel the least bit better about the situation. “I never intended to put it forth as anything but a business arrangement. So…no. In that regard, it wouldn’t have mattered, at least no’ enough to keep me from making contact. Beyond that, I would have made a decision—”

      “On a case by case basis?” She laughed shortly, but there was no humor in it. “I’m sorry. I’m the last one who should be giving you a hard time about the situation you’ve found yourself in. But, surely you knew this was coming.”

      “I did, aye. But I suppose I wasnae actually thinking I’d have to do anything about it.”

      “You mean you thought your—the people on your island—would have let it slide?”

      “Other issues are taking precedence at the moment. I felt like our energies and concerns would be focused there, and on my work in that regard. So…no, I honestly didn’t think, when it came down to it, that they’d mind if I took my time and married because I wanted to.”

      “So why did they—oh, wait, I remember now. You mentioned that there’s someone else, trying to beat you to the altar.”

      He was feeling exponentially worse about the entire scheme than he had at any previous moment—which was saying a great deal. But just the mention of Iain shifted things back toward the focus they needed to be in. “Aye. Iain McAuley. I’ve no idea his agenda. He’s no’ from the island, but a distant relation of my departed grandmother. He was only discovered after my grandfather’s death. And, rightly, at least as the law is written, he’s given the chance, too.”

      “Okay,” she said. A “for now” clearly followed that, but remained unspoken. “So, how do you know I’m related to your McAuleys?”

      “My friend, Roan, takes care of all the tourism and marketing of our island trade. His research skills are legion. He was trying to track down any McAuley relation to those on our island, and though I don’t know exactly how he came to discover you, he does have the lineage all mapped out. Your family, from what I understand, has been well documented on your side of the pond, which made it much easier for him to chart. I’ll show you when we get there. You might find it interesting, learning a bit more of your family tree on our side. Has your family ever discussed your Scots heritage?”

      “Often,” she said, not entirely fondly, “and generally only as it pertains to increasing their bottom line and making them more marketable. I’m sure your friend is amazing at his job, but you haven’t seen marketing until you’ve witnessed the McAuley-Sheffield branding machine in action. Beyond what they regale the public with, however, I don’t know much. You’re right, it is literally centuries back before a member of my direct family actually lived in Scotland. So it wasn’t an immediate feeling to me, as it might have been if we just came over to America a generation or so ago.”

      “We use our own lore as part of our industry as well, but our history is our industry. One wouldn’t thrive or continue without the other. Still, I can understand that it feels less than special, or personal, when you’re only reading about your own history on the back of a brochure, without the added benefit of hearing those same stories, with all their affectionate embellishments, handed down from storyteller, to storyteller, generation to generation.”

      She sighed and looked a bit wistful at that. “That, I’d have enjoyed.”

      “Well, I can’t say that you won’t be overrun with McAuley history while on Kinloch, because you’ll be literally overrun with McAuleys. So you may have the chance to catch up a wee bit on those very anecdotes.”

      “Would this be in between all the peace and quiet I’m going to have?” she asked with a laugh.

      He laughed with her. “They’ll respect your need for privacy and a chance to explore at your own pace.”

      There was a pause, then she said, “Really?” quite dubiously.

      He tried to maintain a straight expression, but the grin wouldn’t be contained. “No’ a hope in hell, actually. But once I set some boundaries, they’ll contain themselves.” Or answer to me, he thought, but didn’t say to her. She was very much in a place where her independence was at the forefront of her mind, and he respected that. He’d do what needed to be done behind the scenes as much as possible, and allow her to find her own way. At least where she could. At the very least, he’d attempt to allow her to steer the course, as she’d called it. It was important to her, and it was of utmost importance to him to do what it took to keep her happy. And willing to marry him.

      He leaned back in his seat a little, as the enormity of that little bit of reality sunk another layer deeper into his psyche.

      “I know I joked about it,” she said, her voice barely a soft intrusion into the growing silence, “but…do you plan to tell them?”

      “Tell who about what?”

      “Your people. Your…clan. About where I was, and what I was about to do, when we decided to join forces?”

      That gave him pause. “I-I hadn’t really thought about it.”

      “You really didn’t know, did you? That I was the bride. Or that the bride was the woman you’d come to find and whisk away to your ancestral home.”

      “No, I had no idea. I’m certain if Roan had mentioned that little tidbit, I’d have never boarded the ferry.”

      “So, your friend, he knew?”

      Graham nodded. “Oh, I’m certain of that, aye. He was quite explicit about arriving at the chapel before the ceremony began. Better to search out my target, he explained. It truly never once occurred to me you’d be the bride herself. I presume it was your online interaction with friends and family regarding your impending nuptials that made you easier to track down, along with the lineage.”

      “Yes,” she said, her thoughts appearing to drift as the whole thing likely played through her mind. “You’re probably right.”

      They fell into silence again for a moment or two, then she said, “So you know my lineage, at least as it pertains to yours. And you know about the boats, as you call them. What else do you know?” The wary edge in her tone returned, and he couldn’t fault her for it.

      He’d all but abducted her, albeit willingly on her part, from her own wedding. He could understand how she might have come to realize, now that things were calming down enough to think clearly, that perhaps she’d leapt from frying pan to fire. He tried to calm her concerns before she edged toward panic and demanded the driver pull over and let her out.

      “Rest assured, I’ve no interest in anything your family has, or that you have, for that matter, other than a legal tie to your last name. And then, only as it pertains to what I need it for at home. I’m no’ in need of anything more, Katie, on that you’ve my word.”

      She nodded, but the wariness remained. He’d merely have to prove to her he was a man of his word.

      “You СКАЧАТЬ