to be here, Robin. When can I meet yer sister?”
Robin grinned ruefully, remembering Alex’s way of always coming directly to the point. He led his guest into the house, directing Dugald to follow the majordomo. After settling Lord BrocCairn in his library with a large silver goblet of strong Burgundy, he said, “It’s not going to be as easy as all that, Alex. You cannot march into the queen’s court, introduce yourself to Velvet, and carry her off to church.”
“Why not?”
Robin had to laugh. He simply could not help it. Alex had always known how to wield his weapon well with the ladies, but he had absolutely no finesse or tact to use on the fair sex. He knew nothing of how to court a woman, for he assumed his prowess in bed would be enough. The problem, Robin decided, was that his friend had never known a virgin. He spoke carefully. “Alex, my sister is an independent wench by nature. She is very much her parents’ child, and despite the betrothal made between you two, my mother has always promised her that she could marry for love.”
“A damn fool promise, if ye ask me,” came the surly reply. The Earl of BrocCairn cast Robin a black look.
Robin hid his smile. “Perhaps,” he said, “but my mother’s first marriage was arranged when she was in the cradle. They did not suit, and her life was a hell on earth until he died. My mother has never forgotten that. Velvet was born out of a great love and is extremely precious to both her parents. I know that they meant for you to come for Velvet’s sixteenth birthday next year, to spend some months getting to know her, and letting her get to know you. She has been very sheltered her entire life and, in all likelihood, would have easily fallen in love with you. This sudden change in your life, your urgent desire to marry her has frightened her. She doesn’t know you, Alex. You have never even been to see her since the day of your betrothal. With her parents away she felt almost hunted when your message came. Particularly since our Uncle Conn was at a loss as to what to do.”
“I must marry, Robin! I am the last of my line, and the thought that my brother-in-law, poor weak-kneed idiot that he is, could inherit Dun Broc infuriates me. I cannot wait!”
The strain in his friend’s face was apparent, and Robin’s voice softened. “Listen to me, Alex. I inherited Lynmouth when I was barely out of the cradle. My father and my younger brother had died in a late-winter epidemic, and I was the last male of my line. Yet it was almost twenty years before I wed and had children.
“You must cultivate patience, Alex, because if you are to win my sister over, and you must if you want a happy married life, you, my old friend, are going to have to court her properly. My mother and stepfather will return to England in a few months’ time, and I know they will espouse your cause. Unless, of course, Velvet takes a violent dislike to you.”
“By ‘court’ I suppose you mean I shall have to practice yer precious Sassenach ways with the lass.”
Robin chuckled. “Don’t grumble at me, Alex. I’m not the one who sent an abrupt note to Queen’s Malvern demanding my bride. You’re bloody lucky Velvet didn’t ask to serve her other godmother. Queen Margot of France! Please, I beg of you, don’t be a pig-headed Scot with me over this. Your King Jamie will one day be England’s king, and then we shall all be united.”
“Hell, Robin, I’ve never courted a woman properly in my life. When we were at the university in Paris and traveling in France and Italy, there was no need to court. There was only the need for ready coin to pay a wench for her favors. At Dun Broc I don’t even have to bother with that. Because I was my father’s son the wenches were willing, and now that I am the master they are even more so.”
“Then it’s time, nay, past time, that you learned how to court a respectable lass, Alex. ’Tisn’t really hard, you know. Poetry and posies,
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