A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 45: Winter & Seraphina

As the luxurious carriage pulled by a team of four ambled on through the English countryside, Winter found himself at the receiving end of a disapproving glare. His beloved had fallen asleep and strands of her lovely hair fell over his body as her chest rose and fell in slumber.

'You should have asked me for permission, English.' His soon-to-be brother announced finally when Winter did not pay much heed to his murderous looks. 'Now that Da is not here, I am the patriarch of this family. If you were an honorable sort, you would have asked for my permission to court Phina. And then you should have asked me if you could marry my sister. That's how you toffs go about this business, don't ya?'

'Patriarch?' Winter chuckled and the boy's glare intensified. 'That is an impressive word. And perhaps a little generous for a boy of nine, no?'

'I am ten.' The boy snapped, puffing his chest out and sitting taller on his seat.

Winter just chuckled some more and ruffled his hair. He'd never had a sibling before. 'That explains your impressive vocabulary, then.'

'I go to school,' Caelan shrugged. 'And I like to read. But, about my sister.'

'Your sister is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions, Caelan.'

'Still. It is about respect, English. And since we are not well acquainted, you may refer to me as Mr. Macleod.'

Winter resisted the urge to point out that if they were observing proprieties then Caelan ought to refer to him as My Lord instead of English. Nor did he point out that the boy's speech held no inflections of his Scottish brogue, likely a result of his schooling.

'Ah, but we are to be brothers, are we not? Surely we can dispense with such formalities. You may call me Winter, if you wish.'

'Well, Winter. Be honest, why would a toff like you marry a nobody like my sister? You're too rich to want her inheritance.' The boy demanded. 'Tell me the truth, you got her pregnant, didn't you?! That's why we're rushing to the border like the devil is on our heels.'

'Why the devil does everyone keep assuming that?! Little boys should not speak of such things.' Winter choked. 'I love your sister and want to marry her as soon as possible. I've wasted a stupid amount of time already. I have not touched your sister in any untoward way, with anything other than the utmost respect, I promise.'

'I don't trust you, Marquess.' The boy sniffled. 'If you had good intentions, you'd be marrying her at Whitechapel, with a license and a pastor, so that all the rest of you toffs could see you're not ashamed to be marrying her.'

'I have the best of intentions, I assure you. When we are back, I am sure my mother will throw us a gigantic ball and invite everyone she can possibly think of. Is that enough for you to see that I am more than willing to show your sister off to the world?'

The boy nodded gravely, but the disapproval did not leave his eyes.

'Will you stop me from meeting my friends because they aren't fancy like you?'

'No, we will live in London for most of the year so I don't see any reason why you should not see your friends. In a few years, we can think about Eton. I am also thinking to buy property in Scotland, perhaps near your village, so that we may spend summers there. I would wish for my children to know their mother's homeland.'

The boy nodded again. 'She would like that.'

'And what about you? How can I get you to like me?' Winter leaned forward to look the boy in the eye. 'You are important to her, and thus by extension to me. I am to be your family, and I would very much like to be your friend.'