Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(51)

“A wedding!” Josephine clapped again. “Here? Oh, splendid! We have so much to do in preparation. We must decorate, plan the menu, fetch flowers—”

Logan interrupted, “We shall do all we can in the time permitting, Josie.”

The girl frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

“We’re not taking weeks to plan the affair.”

“Well, we can accomplish much in a week—”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Abigail spoke from behind in sobering tones. “This is not your wedding, Josie. Let Logan handle matters.”

Josie crossed her arms in a huff. “I only want it to be a grand celebration. Fiona didn’t marry here. We’ve never had a wedding ceremony here before.”

“In your thirteen years.” Niall pointed out with a smirk.

Josie scowled again, her freckled nose bunching. “You’re a mere year older. Don’t act as though you’re so ancient, Niall.”

“We’ve journeyed far to get here, and I should simply like the matter done.” Logan’s gaze cut to Cleo. She read the question clearly there. He was trying to see if she concurred. “We can see it done this night. If agreeable, with you.”

This night? So soon? She swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat.

Was he afraid she’d change her mind? She had not come all this way to turn tail and run now. No matter how tempting the notion, she wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t backing down.

“Tonight suits me.” She glanced at her family, as if they might object.

Marguerite, bravest of the bunch, recovered her voice. “If that’s what you wish, Cleo.”

Cleo nodded.

Marguerite faced Logan, her manner turning brisk and efficient. “If someone would show us to Cleo’s room, we can begin preparing.”

“Of course. Mrs. Willis will see you settled and take care of any needs you have.” He nodded to the apple-cheeked housekeeper. “She’s a marvel. This place wouldn’t function without her.”

Mrs. Willis snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. Now that you’ve married a proper lady, all will be well here, mark my words.” She executed a short curtsy for Cleo. “Glad to have you here, m’am. We’ve needed a lady’s touch for years now.” The woman’s small blue eyes flew over Logan and his siblings with feverish accusation and Cleo gathered the tribe of them had been something of a handful. With her background, she well understood the disorder of a large family. She almost winced at the thought of introducing some of her siblings into the existing fray.

“Thank you,” Cleo murmured.

Mrs. Willis bobbed her head happily. “We’ve kept you dawdling out here long enough. Right this way.” She muttered quick instructions to the other lingering maids, indicating they should escort the other guests to their chambers.

Once inside, Cleo could see the house wasn’t as outdated as she’d suspected. Gas lights lined the long corridors, so she knew some renovations had been made to at least part of the castle.

In moments, she was inside a vast bedchamber with a daunting four-post bed. A large rock fireplace, huge enough for Cleo to step inside, took up almost one wall.

Marguerite and Annalise remained with her. Annalise rotated in a small circle, limping as she moved. With her hands tucked inside her fur-lined muff, she assessed the room with an open mouth. “I’ve never seen a chamber such as this one. It’s fit for a king.”

“Oh, it’s slept its fair share of kings,” Mrs. Willis admitted. “Generations ago, at least.”

“It’s a fine room,” Cleo murmured, knowing words were expected of her. She struggled with the notion that a chamber so large was to be all hers. Space was not something she’d been granted growing up. Even Jack’s Mayfair mansion couldn’t boast a room of this size.

“We’ve been preparing the master chamber for your arrival ever since Master Logan left for Town.”

The housekeeper’s words settled like stones in the pit of her stomach. She leveled her gaze on the housekeeper, struggling to appear unaffected. “You were so certain he would return with a bride?”

Mrs. Willis smiled. “Well, of course. It was his duty. And for all his wild ways and devilish good looks, the master’s always been a good lad and known his duty.”

Cleo nodded. Duty. Of course. That’s all this was to him. All she was. That’s why he didn’t care about the stipulations she placed on their marriage. A useful reminder.

Mrs. Willis exhaled, her look extremely satisfied as she surveyed the room. “Good to see a new Lord and Lady McKinney in this chamber again. It’s been too long. The master’s parents would be so proud.” She nodded to the colossal bed. “Can’t even count how many babes have been born right there in that bed. Does my heart good to know that I’ll be here to witness the arrival of the next generation.”

Cleo felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at the bed under discussion. She would share this room—that bed—with Logan?

Marguerite must have read the horror writ upon her face. She squeezed Cleo’s hand. “That will be all for now, Mrs. Willis. Please send Miss Hadley’s trunks up and we’ll help ready her.”

Mrs. Willis nodded and departed with a quick curtsy of her portly frame. As soon as the door clicked shut, Cleo sank down onto the nearest chair. Her sisters watched her with concern and she forced a wobbly smile, struggling to reclaim her composure. She’d rather not collapse into a fit of vapors in front of them. She was made of sterner stuff than that.