Johanna Lindsay - The Heir

But he had the answer to that. He would make an effort for Archie. Archie wanted him to marry and supply him with new heirs. He wouldn't be getting those heirs as he expected, but Duncan had plenty of time to make him see reason on that point. Yet he wouldn't be getting the heirs at all if Duncan couldn't manage to bed his own wife.

"How will it look to people?"

She was still there? Duncan sighed inwardly and turned about to face Ophelia. "As if we dinna really want tae get married?"

He surprised himself in giving her that answer. It simply came out, despite the internal debate he had just been having with himself. So much for any pretenses. Yet he preferred the truth, and perhaps they could work around it and try to get along anyway.

That thought had him wondering if it was possible for Ophelia to change her ways, or if she was too far gone in her self-absorption. Did he even want to try to change her? Her answer suggested it would be a lost cause.

"Well, I don't want to marry you," she said in a huffy tone. "Not anymore anyway, since talking to your grandfather pointed out how tedious it will be living here. But you—there's no reason for you to keep pretending, Duncan. You know you won't mind being married to me at all. You, no doubt, only object to how we got engaged again."

He wasn't rendered exactly speechless, but it did take a moment for him to get past his amazement enough to reply, "Did it e'er occur tae you, Ophelia, that outward appearances might no' be what everyone finds important, that some men might prefer sterling qualities in the lass they marry, rather than a pretty face?"

She stared at him blankly for a moment, but then she laughed in a condescending way and informed him, "I've had hundreds of marriage proposals to prove otherwise, and most of them from men who barely knew me. What does that tell you about what men prefer?"

"It tells me they've convinced you into thinking that your beauty is all that matters. And you would have been in line for a rude awakening had you married one o' them, when they finally did get tae know you. I'm going tae be honest wi' you, lass. I dinna like your ways, dinna like the spite you're capable of, dinna like the way you treat people, as if nae one matters but yourself."

If you think—

He interrupted her indignant reply, saying in as calm a tone as he could muster, "Be quiet a moment, and let me tell you why I'm telling you this. If we have tae marry, and it doesna look as if anything is going tae save us from it, then we will have only tae choices thereafter, tae live in peace wi' each other, or make our own hell. But the only way we'll manage the peace is if you can change your ways. D'you think you can do that, lass?"

"There is nothing wrong with the way I behave," she insisted.

He sighed. "If you willna e'en recognize that your haughty airs and spiteful tendencies are reprehensible tae me, then we've nothing further tae discuss."

"One little insult I give you, and that makes me spiteful? Do you even care to know why I insulted you? Does it matter to you that I didn't want to marry you, that I was furious that I had been engaged to you without even being asked if I wanted to be engaged to you? I simply wanted out of that engagement. What was so wrong with that?"

"You had other options," he told her. "The most obvious being that you could have told me how you felt and we could have amicably ended the engagement."

"You must be joking. I knew very well that once you saw me, nothing would have stopped you from marrying me—unless you were provoked into breaking it off in a moment of rage, which you did."

He saw her reasoning—up to a point. He had thought himself incredibly lucky when he first laid eyes on her. He had been immediately smitten by her beauty just as other men no doubt were. Had she told him then that she didn't want to marry him, he might well have tried to change her mind about it—at least until he got to know her and discovered that she simply wasn't a likable person. So honesty on her part might not have made any difference.

But instead of honesty, she'd tried to manipulate him with her insults, and succeeded at it. And that wasn't even the extent of her scheme ...

"Spreading rumors tae blacken my name was tae this same end?"

"Don't be silly," she said in a chiding tone. "That wasn't for your benefit at all, was to show my parents that you weren't the ideal husband for me that they were so sure you were, so I could convince them to break the engagement themselves. That didn't work, however. They were set on the match no matter what. But let's not pretend that you were hurt by it, nor was there any chance that you would be unless the rumors turned out to be true. It only took people having a chance to meet you to see that the rumors were groundless."

He shook his head at her. "D'you no' ken how despicable all o' that scheming is? When a little simple honesty would have—?"

"Done nothing," she interrupted, her tone now bitter. "I did try that, Duncan. I told my parents from the beginning that I didn't want to marry a man I'd never even met. Now you tell me something, and you be honest about it. How did you feel about being engaged to a woman you'd never met before?" She sighed then. "Never mind, you obviously didn't mind, since you went along with it."

He flushed with embarrassed heat, because that wasn't exactly true. His reaction to having a wife chosen for him had been the same as hers, or at least what she was claiming hers had been.

He was forced to admit, "Actually, lass, I didna know aboot it until a few days afore I got here. I'm auld enough tae be picking m'own wife, you ken. Neville was mistaken in thinking he could do it for me. I would have broken the engagement, but I was asked tae at least meet you first, which I did."

She blushed now as well and complained defensively, "Well, how was I to know that? But since you seem to admire honesty so much, tell me, would you have broken it if I hadn't insulted you?"

Having only just considered that, his reply was quick. "Nae, at least, no' immediately. You are a beauty, lass, there's nae denying that. But it wouldna have taken verra long for me tae see what's beneath the surface and no' like what's there. Now there's nae choice in the matter, and I've learned that e'en that is indirectly your doing because you deliberately made an enemy o' that lass who saw us t'gether. Had it been anyone but her, we wouldna be in this fix now."

"Hardly," she shot back. "Buying silence is a tricky business that is never a sure thing."

Duncan rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "No' everyone needs tae be bought off, lass. Some people, believe it or no', would actually understand and wouldna want tae see either o' us hurt or ruined due tae one innocent meeting that might have been misconstrued."

"You put too much trust in human nature," she scoffed at him.

"And you dinna put enough. So we're back tae where we started, stuck wi' each other. And I'm still wanting tae know if you can change your ways. Can you stop making enemies of others simply because you dinna like something they say or do? Can you stop the scheming and vindictive retaliations? Can you stop lying just tae suit your needs or—"

"Oh, stop," she cut him off dryly. "Why don't I just stop breathing?" "Sarcasm isna going tae help here."

"That wasn't sarcasm," she retorted. "You obviously are too high-minded for my own tastes, Duncan, so why don't we just admit we aren't suited for each other and never will be. I thought I wouldn't mind marrying you, after I met you, but I have since changed my mind, particularly after speaking with Lord Neville and having it outlined in detail what a drudgery it will be, living here. Believe me, I want out of this engagement as much as you do. I'd even beg, beg, mind you, Mavis at this point to keep her mouth shut. But I know it wouldn't do any good. She hates me, probably always did."