The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [90]
Sir Lyon cleared his throat and cleared it yet again. He shot a sideways look at Mary Rose’s mother, then said, “My lord, I understand that a very few minor difficulties arose here last night.”
“No, nothing that we couldn’t handle,” Tysen said, nothing more, and just waited.
Sir Lyon girded his loins and said, “As Mary Rose’s uncle and her guardian, I am willing to give Mary Rose my permission to wed you, if she is willing to provide me with payment from the dowry provided by her father, for all the money I have spent on her and her dear mother over the years, over a very lot of years. Nearly twenty-five to be exact.”
“I see,” Tysen said. “Knowing that you were charitable and kind to your sister-in-law and her child aren’t sufficient?”
“No, they are not. Tell him, Gweneth.”
Mary Rose’s mother rose very slowly. She looked down at Sir Lyon, and there was no liking at all on her still-lovely face. “Ah, so that’s it. Tell him what, Lyon? That I have always thought you a pompous bully? That now I think you are merely pathetic? You are, you know, trying to extort money from Lord Barthwick.”
Sir Lyon’s face turned so red, Tysen feared that he might fall over with apoplexy. Sir Lyon jumped to his feet and shouted, “You are ungrateful, Gweneth! Damnation, woman, I opened my home to you and your bastard. I have never begrudged you anything. You have been part of my family.” He paused a moment, and if anything, his heavy face grew even redder. Tysen tensed his muscles, preparing to catch him when he collapsed. “Damn you, Gwennie, I am beginning to believe that you are not mad at all, that you were never even remotely mad, that you have merely pretended to madness so you wouldn’t have to do anything yourself for your poor daughter.”
“No, I am not mad,” Gweneth said. “Actually, the madness kept you away from me—at least for the most part—until recently. I was a fool to tell you about Mary Rose’s trust from her father. I never considered that you would go to Erickson and bribe him to marry my daughter so you could get even more money. You are a pathetic human being, Lyon.”
Sir Lyon shouted, “That is a lie! You will be quiet! Dammit, I need the money!” He pinned Tysen again, and he was panting from his anger. “Attend me, my lord, if I do not receive the money to which I am entitled, I will wed Mary Rose to Erickson MacPhail.”
Tysen regarded the man with his red face, his fists bunched atop his knees. He waited until Sir Lyon’s face began to recover its natural color. He then motioned for the man to be seated. Once he was, Tysen said, “Ten thousand pounds, wasn’t it? I believe this is the amount you and Erickson MacPhail agreed upon?”
Gweneth Fordyce, who had sat down again, now leapt to her feet. She stared down at Sir Lyon, so much anger getting ready to erupt that Tysen said quickly, “No, ma’am, please be seated again. I have something to say to both of you that perhaps you do not know. I have already been in contact with Donald MacCray, Tyronne Barthwick’s solicitor in Edinburgh. He tells me that Mary Rose Fordyce has no legal guardian, that you never applied for such a position. Therefore, Sir Lyon, you are here to extort money from me or from Mary Rose, and you have no leverage at all. I would suggest that you consider praying to God for forgiveness for this elaborate deception.” He didn’t add that he would be doing quite a lot of praying himself, for that quick and clean lie about the guardianship. He realized he was right, of course, just looking at Sir Lyon’s face. He’d been caught out. It was there for all to see.
Sir Lyon didn’t jump up this time, just shouted at the top of his lungs, “So I am not her legal guardian. It wasn’t necessary. I am the bloody girl’s uncle! Gweneth, you will set this aright, you will see to it that I get the ten thousand pounds, or you will never again be welcome at Vallance Manor. Damnation, it’s probably a very small part of what her father left her.”
Gweneth looked down at her brother-in-law for a very long time. Then she smiled at Tysen. “My lord, he forced me to come