Maddie peered at the lumpy, aromatic mess before her. “It smells . . . adventurous.”
“It’s just the usual. Hot milk, curdled with ale. A bit of sugar, anise, clove.”
“Are you certain that’s all?” Maddie gathered a spoonful. “No special ingredients?”
“Oh, yes. I did add a dram of Dr. Hargreaves’ Elixir. And a pinch of pickling spice to clear the phlegm.” She nodded at the bowl. “Go on. Be a good girl and eat it up. We’ve hours yet before dinner. I told your captain to bring his men in for the evening meal once they’ve settled.”
“We’re going to feed them?” Everyone knew that once you fed a pack of wandering beasts, they’d never leave. “Cook will quit in protest.”
“They’re soldiers. They’ll only want simple fare. Bread, beef, puddings. No need for a lavish menu.” Aunt Thea raised a silver brow. “Unless you’re offering up a pair of lobsters?”
Maddie looked up, horrified. “Fluffy and Rex? How could you even suggest it?”
“What I’m suggesting, my dear, is that your time as a shellfish voyeur may be drawing to a close.”
“But I’ve been commissioned by Mr. Orkney to draw a series illustrating the lobster’s life cycle. Mating is only one part of it. They can live for decades.”
The lobsters were only one of a few small projects she had underway. With a bit of luck—and Lord Varleigh’s assistance—she hoped to have larger undertakings soon.
“You have a life cycle of your own to get on with.” Aunt Thea placed her hands atop Maddie’s. “Now that the captain has returned, you can be married soon. That is, assuming you still want to marry him. Do you not?”
Maddie met her aunt’s gaze.
This was it. Her chance to give that ever-growing snowball a swift kick of truth. Break it apart once and for all.
Actually, Aunt Thea, I don’t wish to marry him. You see, I didn’t manage to snag that glorious specimen of man. I’d never seen him before today. There never was any Captain MacKenzie at all. I told a silly, panicked lie to avoid a season of disappointment. I deceived everyone for years, and I’m sorry for it. So very sorry and ashamed.
Maddie bit her lip. “Aunt Thea, I . . .”
“Hold that thought,” her aunt said, rising from the table and moving toward the cabinet. “First, I’m pouring myself some brandy to celebrate. I know this is your miraculous day. Your sweetheart, come home. But in a way, it is my triumph as well. After all those times I went to battle with your Papa, when he wanted to force you back into the ton . . . I’m just so happy for you. And happy for myself, as well. I’m vindicated. The past ten years of my life have meaning now.” She brought her glass of brandy back to the table. “Well? What is it you have to say?”
Maddie’s heart pinched. “You do know how grateful I am. And how much I adore you.”
“But of course I do. I’m rather easy to adore.”
“Then I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” Her aunt laughed. “Whatever for, my Madling?”
Maddie’s head began to throb at the temples. She gripped the spoon until her knuckles ached.
“For not eating the posset.” She gave her aunt a sheepish smile. “I’m feeling better. Might I have a brandy, too?”
She just couldn’t do it. Aunt Thea must not be made to suffer for Maddie’s mistakes. The old dear had no fortune of her own. She depended on Maddie for financial support, and Maddie depended on her aunt for everything else. To tell the truth now would hurt them both too deeply.
This predicament was one of her own making.
That intimidating Highlander in the courtyard was her problem.
And Maddie knew, then and there—it was up to her to solve him.
By the time Logan emerged from the castle, his men were anxiously awaiting news. And judging from the looks on their faces, they expected the news to be bad.
“So . . . ?” Callum prompted. “How did it go?”
“As well as could be expected,” Logan replied.
Better than he’d expected, in some ways. Logan had anticipated arriving to find a woman plagued with pockmarks or afflicted with a harelip. At the least, he’d told himself, she would be plain. Why else would a gently-bred heiress feel compelled to invent a sweetheart?
But Madeline wasn’t afflicted in any visible way, and she certainly wasn’t plain. She was lovely.
A lovely little liar.