"I may only be here for a few months, but I want to learn as much about you as I can, be a part of this estate."

He crossed his arms over his broad chest, one brow arrogantly c.o.c.ked. "No. We're here to do one thing and one thing only: establish your good name so that you and your family can go about your lives. I wish to do that with as little impact upon our lives as possible."

"I quite agree, but why shouldn't we at least enjoy each other's company?"

His brows rose.

She colored. "I mean, other than in the bed chamber. Why shouldn't I become involved in your business, too? I would like to know about you an-" She caught herself and amended the sentence. "I mean, your interests here. I want to see the stables and the horses and-oh, so many things! I want to help in any way I can. That's the way a marriage should work."

"Under normal circ.u.mstances, I would agree, but these are not normal circ.u.mstances. You will confine yourself to the household and nothing more." His tone brooked no argument.

Triona clenched her hands at her sides and fought a very real urge to begin an argument she was fairly sure they'd both lose. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something, but she didn't even know what to ask.

Blast it, this conversation wasn't going the way she wished! She'd asked to be a part of his everyday life, of the estate and the horses he so obviously admired, and in return he was confining her to the house as if she was a potential nuisance to be contained within the house's four walls. She couldn't address this further without some advice. Fortunately for her, she knew just where to get it.

She forced her hands to unclench. "Fine, we'll discuss this more later. If it's possible, I would like to visit the modiste today to order some gowns, since I brought so few with me. I have a few pounds with me, and-"

"I will pay for what you need."

"MacLean, this marriage isn't real."

"Caitriona, you are my wife. As such, I have the right and privilege of purchasing you anything I please. I'll have Ferguson hook up the carriage after breakfast, and Mrs. Wallis can escort you. I have an account with the modiste, so you may order whatever you like."

Why did he have an account with the modiste? Did he...did he have a mistress? Her jaw tightened, and suddenly the last thing she wanted to do was order more gowns.

He turned from the window, adding over his shoulder, "I will be very busy for the next few weeks. As I said, several mares are ready to foal, and my men and I must monitor the herds closely. So while you confine your efforts to the house-"

"Confine?" She plopped her fists on her hips. "I don't know how things were for you, MacLean, but my parents run the vicarage together. What Papa can't do, Mother does. And when things are truly busy, like at Michaelmas or if there are many weddings, the whole family helps. I know how to keep accounts and such. I can also-"

"I don't need a partner." His green gaze flickered over her, suddenly cool. "Not even for a month or two."

She sucked in her breath. I shouldn't be hurt. He's only reminding me of our situation, and I need to remember that.

His expression softened. "I'm not an unreasonable man, Caitriona. I daresay there are many things that could use improvement in the house and elsewhere. The servants have had their way for a long time."

"Thank you so much," she replied sarcastically.

"You're welcome." He sent her a hard look from under his lashes. "There is one important matter we must discuss. While you have carte blanche inside these four walls, you will not interfere with my daugh-"

There was the sound of feet running up the steps, as if a herd of wild boar had been let into the house.

"What's tha-" Triona began.

The door flew open and three children appeared. A thin young girl of fifteen or so entered first. She had lank blond hair tied back in a tight bun, her face wreathed in smiles until she saw Triona. Then she came to an abrupt halt. Hard on her heels was a younger girl, probably thirteen years of age, of astounding beauty with black hair and thick black lashes around eyes of the darkest brown. She was moving so quickly that she narrowly avoided running into the older girl. Holding her hand, eyes wide, blond curls framing her round face, was a little girl of no more then six.

The three looked at Triona with shocked expressions that Triona was sure were mirrored on her own face.

Then the girls looked past her and they all brightened, smiles blooming once again on their faces. "Papa!" they yelled as they ran forward, swarming Hugh with hugs and kisses.

Chapter 11.

"Och, la.s.sies. Ye canna know the power o' yer own anger till 'tis burnin' in yer veins."

OLD WOMAN NORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER'S NIGHT Dougal followed his brother into the library. "You should have told her!"

Hugh scowled as Dougal found the most comfortable chair and claimed it. "I was in the process of doing just that when the girls came in. I thought you were going to keep them until after breakfast."

"I did! You're lucky I made them wait as long as I did, for once they knew you were home, they kept begging and begging." Dougal grimaced. "I was glad to return them."

Hugh sighed and rubbed his neck, dropping into the chair opposite Dougal. "b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. What a mess."

"I'm surprised you weren't already up. It was well past nine, so I thought I'd given you plenty of time-" Dougal's gaze narrowed on Hugh's red face. "Ah, yes. Newlyweds. How could I have forgotten? I take it you were both decent when the children burst in?"

"Barely."

Dougal grimaced. "I'm sorry. I just didn't think."

"If I'd had just ten more minutes to explain things to Caitriona, all would have been well." At least, he thought so. To be honest, their conversation hadn't been going the way he wanted it to before the girls had arrived.

He was beginning to worry that marriage-even this one-was more difficult than he'd suspected.

"What did your new wife say when she met the children?"

"Not much. She was silent throughout breakfast." Although she'd shot him an amazing number of dagger glances.

"And the girls?"

"They were just as quiet, but sulky." Hugh rubbed his face with both hands. "d.a.m.n it, everyone is unhappy now! I should have said something to Caitriona earlier, but I was so b.l.o.o.d.y tied up trying to explain my expectations for our marriage that I put off mentioning the girls. And I didn't even think that I should inform them about Caitriona, or how they'd react upon finding her here with no idea that I'd married." Hugh leaned his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. "b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, I've made a mess of things."

"Yes, you have."

Hugh glared. "I thought you were here to help."

"Me? I'm just hoping Sophie doesn't blame me for this mess. She has a tendency to think things are my fault even when they clearly aren't."

"We can talk about your marital troubles another time; I have enough of my own to worry about right now." Hugh grimaced. "I just didn't think they'd care so much. Females are such a pain! Dougal, if you had been forced into marriage and brought home your new wife, I wouldn't be upset. I'd welcome her into the house and do what was proper. Whatever happened after that would be between the two of you, and I couldn't care less, for that's the way men do things. But women..." He shook his head.

"Oh, they're very different. I don't care if you forget my birthday; I barely remember it myself. But Sophia never forgets it. And if I ever forgot hers?" Dougal shuddered. "I'd rather be tarred and feathered."

Hugh nodded absently. d.a.m.n it all-and things had begun so promisingly this morning! He wished he were back in bed now, wrapped around Caitriona. He'd been surprised by how delightfully responsive she'd been, how uninhibited. Imagining how bold she'd be in a few weeks, once she was more used to the marriage bed, made his heart thunder in his ears and- "You aren't listening."

Hugh pulled his attention back to his brother. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

Dougal scowled. "I said that perhaps you should start with an apology."

"For what? I was going to tell her; I just didn't have time."

Dougal lifted his brows.

Hugh sighed. "You're right; I will apologize."

"What will you tell the girls?"

"The truth. They're even angrier than Caitriona, and-"

Dougal suddenly straightened, his gaze going past Hugh.

Slowly, Hugh turned. Standing just inside the door were his daughters.

Christina pinned him with her no-nonsense gaze. "Father, we'd like a word with you."

Dougal stood. "Perhaps I'd better-"

"Sit," Hugh ordered.

Dougal paused, his gaze flickering to the girls. Whatever he saw there seemed to decide him, for he resumed his seat.

Hugh faced his daughters. "I'm glad you're here; I wish to speak with you, too."

The girls exchanged glances. Then Christina nodded and went to sit on the end of the settee; Devon sat on the other. Aggie sat in the middle as they all three fixed their solemn gazes on Hugh.

"Well?" Devon asked, her dark eyes sharp.

"You didn't say anything about getting married when you left!" Christina charged.

"I didn't intend to get married. It was as much of a surprise to me and Caitriona as anyone."

Christina and Devon exchanged incredulous glances.

Hugh sighed. "Here's what happened. A young lady was attempting to trick your uncle Alexander into marriage, which is why I went to London. Unknown to me, Caitriona had also traveled to London for the same purpose."

Christina's gaze narrowed. "How did she know about it?"

"They are sisters."

"Aha!" Devon said, as if that proved something.

Hugh frowned at her. "There is no *aha.' By accident, Caitriona and I ended up falling into the trap her sister had planned for Alexander, and we were forced to marry."

"How could anyone force you to do anything?" Devon asked in an incredulous voice. "You are even bigger than Uncle Alexander!"

Dougal smothered a laugh.

"Because of my rash actions, Caitriona's reputation was ruined. I had to marry her, or she and her family would have paid a very steep price."

Devon shook her head impatiently. "I'm sure that if you'd wished to, you could have gotten out of it."

"As a man of honor, I could do no less than I did," he said sharply. "Surely you wouldn't have me behave otherwise."

Devon's cheeks burned at his rebuke, her mouth tightening.

Christina said, "Of course not. If you say you had no choice, then we believe you."

"But we don't want her here!" Devon burst out.

Aggie, clearly feeling left out, nodded violently. "We don't need a mother!"

"We were perfectly happy the way we were, with just you," Christina said.

Hugh made an impatient gesture. "Sometimes life makes decisions for us. This is one of those times, and we must make the best of it."

Christina stiffened. "I will not treat that woman like a mother."

"No one asked you to," Hugh said, scowling. "But you will be polite to her for the short time she'll be with us."

Devon's gaze locked on to Hugh's face. "Short time? She won't be staying?"

"Only a couple of months, and then she'll return to her home. Meanwhile, you three will be polite. And no tricks, either. None. Am I making myself clear?"

Devon and Christina looked mulish.

Hugh's brows lowered. "Christina?"

She sighed. "Yes, Papa. I will be polite."

"Thank you." He glanced at Devon and Aggie. "You, too."

Devon mumbled, "Yes, Papa."

Aggie pushed out her bottom lip, but nodded.

"Good. Whether you like it or not, Caitriona is my wife and will be treated with respect. She will act as such during her time here, and will oversee the household."

Devon blinked. "But...Christina and I were doing that!"

"Now you'll have some help." Hugh looked at Dougal. "Perhaps the girls will have more time for their studies."

Dougal nodded, smiling a bit. "I'm sure they'll enjoy that. I suggest they learn Latin, as well as their Greek."

"Latin?" Devon squeaked.