A Question for Harry (2 page)

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Authors: Angeline Fortin

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Scottish, #Victorian, #Historical Romance

BOOK: A Question for Harry
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Swishing her skirts to the side, Fiona stomped over to her ball and addressed it
. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself enough to make a decent go of it, but as she stared down at the ball, Fiona was nearly overcome by the urge to scream … or beat the green to a pulp with her club.

She did neither
. Not only because she refused to give them the satisfaction of labeling her behavior as childish and – in that way that only brothers can – extend the label to all of her actions and decisions, but also because the greens keeper at St. Andrews might ban her from the course for tearing up his precious green. Given her love of the game, it was a risk she would never take.

But no, she wasn’t done
. Not by a long shot. She loved all ten of her brothers dearly, but as Richard had said, they had raised her to think independently and to act the same. She was used to either doing as she pleased or expecting them to acquiesce to her wishes. She was what they had made her. How could they possibly expect her to change all of that now?

They should be glad that she hadn’t consigned her life to the international league of spinsters after the hand romance had dealt her.

“Might I remind you,” she said tightly, turning on them again. “That you – all of you – have been lamenting my age and impending spinsterhood this past year.
Haranguing
me – with an annoying degree of repetitiveness, I might add – to settle upon a husband?”

“There has been no haranguing, Blossom,” Vin countered
calmly. “Don’t exaggerate. Besides, that wasn’t what I or any of the others said at all. I believe for the most part our concern was that you were generally ignoring the natural progression of life in favor of a golf course.”

“I cannot believe you would say that as if it were a bad thing as we are all at this moment engaged in that very sport,” Fiona said, pointedly returning to her ball and taking a quick putt, sending the ball across the green
. It rimmed the cup and traveled a few more yards before rolling to a stop. Frowning at the ball, she mentally placed the blame for the miss on her brothers’ shoulders.

“At least we all have other things to occupy our time,” her eldest brother volleyed back
, but he, too, had reined in his temper. “We have families, spouses, and children to focus on. We were only expressing our hope that you would soon have the same.”

Fiona sighed, rolling her eyes as she counted to ten. “And so I shall, as soon as Lord Ramsay and I marry
. I am eager to wed, Francis. The sooner the better. I even turned down an invitation from Miss Isette Pearson herself to take part in the Ladies Open Championship at the Royal Wimbledon this summer so that I might marry Ramsay straight away.”


Is that some sign of serious commitment? But you did not decline the membership to the Ladies’ Golf Union she offered,” Richard looked up at her from where he was squatted down on his haunches lining up his putt.

Was he
mad?
“Good Lord, of course not,” she answered. “It was an honor.”

“I’m sure you think so
, but have you considered whether this Ramsay fellow would allow his wife to spend all of her days on a golf course?” Vin asked.

A valid enough question
. It was the age of men, after all. Despite the modern times and the fact that women were gaining more control and rights over their lives every day, men still legally owned their wives – tales of Eve’s first, disastrous marriage to the previous Earl of Shaftesbury had verified that.

However, her brothers were assuming that it was her intention to continue playing golf after her marriage with the same frequency she did now and that wasn’t at all the case
. As much as she did enjoy the game, she only played as often as she did to distract herself from the fact that life was beginning to pass her by.

She knew what she wanted from life, and despite mocking her brothers regarding their methods, each one of them had the life she secretly longed for
: a family of their own.

Her chance at it – the first that had ever come her way – was almost within her grasp.

But as much as she wanted it, Fiona’s unusual upbringing had also made her rather radical about the role women should play in life and marriage, and she wasn’t about to hand over control to just anyone without some assurance that her life would remain her own.

If she was not destined for a marriage
like those her brothers had found, where equality was borne of love and respect, she was dogmatically adamant about having a marriage where she held the reins.

If she wanted to travel, she would
. If she wanted to smoke as she had seen some women do, she would do just that. If she wanted to play golf wearing trousers … well, perhaps not that. Unfortunately, golf clubs like the Wimbledon Royal had unyielding regulations regarding how female players must be attired.

Ramsay was the perfect choice in that regard
. He would yield to her wishes and would never think he might control her or own her person. Own her thoughts.

Own her heart
.

“Of course he will
. Lord Ramsay is everything that will make me happy.”

While Glenrothes might not have gotten the lion’s share of temper in the family, he was cursed with a vexing amount of tenacity on par with her own.
“I simply cannot believe that.”

“I agree,”
Richard said as he took his shot and sank the ball into the cup.

Fiona frowned at him, though his success in achieving par where she had failed might have been more aggravating than his concurrence
. “And why not?”


That you do not know the answer to that shows that you do not know him well enough to marry him. I hardly know him at all, but even I’ve seen that Ramsay is a spineless namby-pamby, Blossom. You’d walk all over him,” Vin announced, stepping up to take his turn, impatient for the game to move on.

Richard chuckled at that
. “Indeed, you’d have him under your thumb in no time … If you haven’t already.”

The three men nodded in sanctimonious agreement that had Fiona blinking owlishly before she countered dryly, “
Truly? And that wouldn’t make me happy?”

“Blossom,” Vin sighed heavily with a shake of his head as if he truly regretted disappointing her
.

If he did have regrets, he was the only one
. Instead of defending her, however, Vin turned away to tap his short putt in. Both Francis and Richard remained unmoved by her sarcasm.

“Regardless of what you think, you don’t want a man who will cater to you
. You’d be bored to death inside a week,” her oldest brother said unequivocally. “You’ll never be happy until you can find a man who will push back when you push him too far. Someone who can beat you at your own game every so often.”

“Aye,” Vin
nodded in turn. “Someone who wouldnae always let ye get yer way as we do. The man for ye, Blossom, is one who stands up to ye and gives as good as he gets.”

Turning her back on them,
she closed her eyes as a memory wafted through her mind much as the breeze from St. Andrews Bay caressed her cheeks.

She knew
a man like that. One who
did
give back everything she dished out with equal spirit, who matched her in wit and in pure stubbornness. One who made her
feel
joy, frustration and anger. One who made her heart ache at the mere thought of him …

No!

Fiona pushed the memory away and opened her eyes, turning into the stiff breeze from the bay to dry the tears gathering in her eyes … or at least provide an excuse if they were noticed. Looking back solved nothing. The future was all she had and she meant to seize it.

Lord Donovan Ramsay
was that future. He was tall, dark, handsome, and charming. Whatever other fine qualities Lord Ramsay might possess, what mattered the most to Fiona was that he was happy to let her have her way. Ramsay conceded to all her requests and wishes promptly and would never dream of saying no. He was – yes, she could admit it, if only to herself – extremely manageable. Malleable.

Times being what they were, a woman needed a man with those particular qualities at home.

With Ramsay, she could have everything she wanted without risking her heart
.

Glenrothes shook his head
as he returned his putter to his golf bag and lifted the bag onto his shoulder. “Perhaps if I had paid more attention I might ha’ seen it coming, but as ye so kindly pointed out, I ha’ been focused on filling my nursery.”

Fiona winced but refused to feel any more shame for her flippant words
. Lord knew these men had offered enough of their own that afternoon to provide a proper counterbalance.

Knowing that an apology for her harsh words was unlikely to be forthcoming, Glenrothes continued,
“I know ye, Blossom. I raised ye. Yer a temperamental and impulsive lass, but I never had reason to doubt yer judgment. I cannae fathom why ye would leapt into anything as important as marriage so rashly.” Glenrothes pressed his fingers into the base of his skull as if the pressure would bring understanding. “Why not wait?”

Wait
? Already she was tired of life passing her by, tired of seeing her friends wed and begin their families. Tired even of filling her time with round after round of golf and sports trying to fill the void.

Tired of waiting on pins and needles for something that was never going to happen.

“I’m tired of waiting, Francis; I want to be married and start a family of my own.”

“Wi’ this Ramsay
? How could ye ha’ been witness to my first marriage to Vanessa, compare it to what I now ha’ with Eve, and think that ye will find happiness in a marriage where there is no love?”

“Who says he doesn’t love me?”

“Is he claiming that he does after only two weeks’ acquaintance?”

Fiona shot him an arch look
. It was a rather hypocritical question coming from a man who claimed to have fallen in love at first sight. “How long does it take, Francis?”

“Sometimes it can take a lifetime
,” Vin spoke up, sparing Glenrothes from answering. “Richard and I knew Abby and Moira for years.”

“And Francis knew Eve for five minutes,” she shot back
. “Time is irrelevant.”

Glenrothes
held up his hand to halt her retort. “Fine, Blossom, I will not speak any more to his feelings but I will express my concern for yours. Do you love this man? Is he a man
you
can love and respect?”

No, she did not love Ramsay
and that did not matter. To her, at least. He was easy, and subsequently, safe. Fiona set her jaw stubbornly but did not, could not answer. She hated to give her brother the satisfaction of being right.

But all he did was nod
. “You do not love him then. You cannot even say that you respect him. Why then, Blossom? What is this really about?”

Fiona just shook her head again
. Her reasons were her own and her brothers didn’t need to know what really drove her “haste.” That was a conversation that would be even more trying than this one already was. Also, she didn’t need their pity. “If you want to discuss motivations, why don’t you tell me what your refusal is really about? You’ve let me make my own decisions for years. Even if you believe this one will be a mistake, shouldn’t it be mine to make as well? Lord Ramsay asked me to marry him and I said yes.”


Well, he has nae asked me,” Glenrothes said, his brogue thickening again, and added without regret, “and even if he did, I wouldnae gi’ my permission.”


Permission? Francis, really! It is nearly the twentieth century!” Fiona said with barely contained frustration, resisting the urge to stomp her foot petulantly as she picked up her golf bag and hefted it over her shoulder. “See? I can carry my own clubs, pick my own husband … I can even dress myself. Did you know that?”

“But ye still cannae marry wi’out my permission, lass
. And I willnae gi’ it. Nae wi’ him,” dGlenrothes shot back as they all set out toward the eighteenth and final hole. The clubhouse loomed in the distance like an oasis in the desert and he, parched not from the sun but from an argument gone on too long, longed to quench his thirst with the fine whiskey within its four walls.


Good God, Francis! I’m not some wee toddler any longer! I know my own mind!”

“But ye would deny yer heart!” he shot back, sounding more like the lordly earl than the doting brother she usually faced
. And he’d managed it despite the sentimental emotion of his words.

“And you would deny me my choice.”

A short bark of laughter had Fiona looking back at Vin and Richard who were following close behind. It was Richard who had laughed but Vin was shaking his head in bemusement.

“Blossom, you are an intelligent lass
, smart as a whip. But I could pick a husband for you this very moment with far more consideration than I believe you have given to the matter.”

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