The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [104]
“Well, to be perfectly blunt about this—”
“Leo, come up to your feet, if you please.”
“Papa!” Leo gracefully flipped over frontward, ended up on his feet, whipped about, and flung himself into his father’s arms. “We didn’t know—Max tried to wager that you would be here by next Sunday, but I only have three shillings left and I can’t afford to lose them too. I know he cheats, Papa, I just can’t prove it.”
“I’m home, and I’m glad you didn’t lose your three shillings,” Tysen said, and Mary Rose saw him hug the boy tightly to him, briefly closing his eyes as he held him. He held him at arm’s length then, studying his face, and said slowly, turning a bit toward her, “It’s very good to see you, Leo. What are you doing here? You’re tanned and look repellently healthy. Ah, I see you have met Mary Rose?”
Leo turned to look at her. “She told me her name, but that’s all. I hope she isn’t a governess, Papa. Max would make her want to clout him, since he brags he already knows everything. But she doesn’t sound all proper and educated like a governess should. She talks funny. Perhaps she is a new maid? Oh, yes, Uncle Douglas lets us visit home while Max is having his lessons with Mr. Harbottle.”
Tysen said mildly, still holding his boy, loath to let him go, “I’ll write immediately to your uncle and tell him I’m home and have decided to let you stay here with me. Now, Mary Rose knows more Latin than Max does. What do you think of that?”
Leo really looked at her now, up and down, several times. She was wearing one of her old gowns, a pale gray muslin with no particular style, and now she wished she’d worn one of her two new gowns that Sinjun had had made for her in Edinburgh. “I didn’t know that girls could speak anything but English. Mr. Harbottle says that’s why he doesn’t tutor girls, they just can’t learn. Max told him about Meggie, how she can out-argue even him, but Mr. Harbottle wouldn’t believe him.” He frowned at her now. “You really do talk funny.”
Mary Rose said, thickening her accent a bit for his benefit, “It’s Scottish, and Mr. Harbottle sounds quite antiquated.”
“Meggie says he’s an old dimwit and doesn’t know a bean from a strawberry. You’re really from Scotland? Papa brought you back from Kildrummy Castle?”
“Yes.”
“Leo,” Tysen said, squeezing the boy’s arms, “Mary Rose is my wife and your new mother.”
Leo became very still. Slowly, he turned and stared at her with new eyes, eyes that didn’t appreciate what they were seeing. A mother? He scratched his head. “Papa, I haven’t had a mother for years. I don’t think we really have use for one. No, Papa, I don’t need a mother. None of us does. Besides, how can she be my mother when I don’t even know her?”
“Shut your trap, Leo!” It was Meggie, and she was scurrying around the side of the vicarage. She came to a stop not six inches from her brother’s nose. “I didn’t know you were here or I never would have let Mary Rose leave me and wander about by herself. Listen to me, codbrain, I know her, and I will tell you right now that she is exactly what we want.” She added, her voice quite vicious, “Don’t even think about torturing her, Leo, or I will hurt you very badly.”
“Well, that’s a good start,” Mary Rose said, laughing. She sounded more dazed than amused, and Tysen couldn’t blame her. He said to Leo, “I’ll hurt you too, Leo. Just get to know her. I think you’ll find she’s very nice. Now, is Max back yet from his lessons with Mr. Harbottle?”
Leo, sticking very close to his father, looked up at him, frowning, and said slowly, “That was funny, Papa. Are you all right?”
“Why, yes, of course.”
“Well, Max is with Mr. Pritchart. I believe they are arguing a theological point, in Latin, naturally.” Leo said to Mary Rose, “Mr. Pritchart is Papa’s curate. He’s the one who takes us back to Northcliffe Hall after Max’s lessons. Mr. Pritchart is even older than Papa but he doesn’t yet have a wife. Maybe you could marry him instead of Papa.”
“Once married,” Tysen said, “it’s forever. Mr. Pritchart will have to find his own wife.”
“Can