Lucy and Her Scottish Laird (27 page)

“I think he does,” Meg said. “Wouldn’t it be romantic if he proposed at Lady Muirhouse’s ball tomorrow night?”

The thought of it made Lucy’s chest tighten. She should be filled with glee, but she was not.

“Lucy?”

“Oh…Yes, I…”

“You are having second thoughts?”

“Not so much second thoughts,” Lucy said, prevaricating.

“What, then?”

She’d been thinking about this all day. “Do you remember our dancing lessons when we were children, and Calvin always chose Jessamine to be his
partner?”

“He did?”

“Yes, he did.” Lucy had idolized her older brothers, and they usually got on well together. Calvin’s slight during dancing lessons when
she was ten years old did not mean much any more. “The point is that I was always second best. Even if Jess had turned him down, and he had asked me
instead, I would always know I was not his first choice. The whole time we danced, he would be wishing for his preferred partner.”

“And you think that’s the situation with Joshua?”

Lucy was just about to answer when she saw a couple of tall figures riding toward them on horseback.

“Isn’t that Lord Broxburn?” Meg asked.

“Uh, yes, I believe so.” Lucy was not about to tell anyone of her chaotic emotions regarding the Scottish marquess. She’d always been the
level-headed sister. The logical one whose emotions remained steady, no matter what the situation.

She did not feel quite like herself these days, however.

Broxburn spotted them and came to the side of the road where Lucy and Meg stood. He and his companion dismounted and bowed to her and Meg. “How do
you do, ladies,” Broxburn said. He turned to Lucy. “Miss Stillwater, I believe you know Mr. Ferguson.”

Lucy nodded, greeting Ferguson, who seemed preoccupied.

“Hello, Lord Broxburn,” Meg said. “We came out for a walk and found ourselves here.”

“Allow me to escort you,” Broxburn said.

Ian indicated that Ferguson and the footman should take the horses to Kildrum House, leaving Lucy and Meg to walk with him.

“I hope all is well, my lord?” Lucy asked.

“What? Oh, aye. Just a bit of family trouble.”

“Not your father, I hope?”

He shook his head. “No. It is news of my aunt. Something I must deal with sooner, rather than later.”

Lucy’s chest relaxed, but she was unbearably warm all over, and her legs felt weak. All her nerves were on edge.

They walked to a park on the far side of the street with gorgeous flower beds and paths for walking. There were several tables and chairs, and Broxburn
escorted them to one of them. “Wait here and I will get you some tea.”

He walked back to one of the shops, leaving Lucy alone with her sister. She felt Meg’s speculative gaze.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Meg replied. “I was just thinking…”

Meg said no more, turning to the marquess when he arrived back at their table. “I’ve been enjoying Edinburgh very much,” she said.

“What have you seen besides Holyrood?” he asked.

While Meg and Broxburn spoke of her explorations in the city, Lucy realized she had not seen this side of Broxburn before. He was funny and charming and
utterly appealing, yet entirely proper in his manner.

A young man brought a tray with two cups and a pot of tea to their table, and Broxburn sat back and encouraged them to enjoy their drink. The hot liquid
was certainly not going to help cool Lucy’s blood which heated even more when her gaze lit upon Broxburn’s strong jaw and the fullness of his
lips. She knew how his mouth would feel upon hers – soft and warm, and when she—

“Lord Broxburn! Miss Stillwater!”

Lady Claire approached from behind, interrupting Lucy’s wholly inappropriate reverie. Broxburn stood, but it was obvious he did not remember Claire.

Lucy came to his rescue. “Lord Broxburn, you remember Lady Claire MacNeil, of course. Claire, won’t you join us?”

Claire dismissed her maid and sat down while Broxburn went to request another cup for Claire. Lucy noted the way Claire’s eyes followed his every
move.

“Lady Claire,” Meg said, but Claire was slow to turn her attention from Broxburn. “It is a lovely day for a walk, is it not?”

“Oh, uh, yes. We will not have many more before it becomes too cold and rainy.” She turned to Lucy. “Tell me quickly. Has Lord Broxburn
been visiting Kathryn Hay?”

“Lady Kathryn? Is she in Edinburgh? I thought her family intended to return home to Aberdeenshire.”

“Oh, no,” Claire said, wringing the delicate handkerchief in her hands. “They are still here. She will probably attend Lady
Muirhouse’s ball. And then he will be so distr—”

Broxburn returned and Claire stopped her frantic musings on Kathryn Hay and the ball. She assumed a serene demeanor as Broxburn took his seat again.

Lucy could only stare at Claire for a moment, feeling more than a bit irritated. Claire had no claim on Broxburn, and neither did Kathryn Hay, for that
matter. Lady Kathryn was not even interested, although Claire’s attention more than made up for it. In that moment, Lucy did not think she’d
ever felt such enmity for another person before.

Just as she was about to say something uncharacteristically unkind, Meg cleared her throat. “Lady Claire, do you always…reside in
Edinburgh?”

“Yes, for most of the year,” she said dismissively, turning quickly to Broxburn. “Will we see you at Lady Muirhouse’s ball, my
lord?”

Lucy stood abruptly. “We should return home. Our aunt will be asking for us.”

“B-but Lord Broxburn…” Claire said.

He stood. “I do not know if I have been invited, Lady Claire. No one knew I would be in town.”

“Oh, but I am sure—”

 “Come, Meg. We really should be going,” Lucy said. “I am sorry we must leave you, Claire. But you know – my aunt…”

Claire appeared dumbfounded by Lucy’s abrupt behavior. Lucy was rather stunned, herself. All she knew was that she had to go before her ire got the
better of her. But why she felt so irritated with Claire was a mystery to her. The young woman had been perfectly pleasant up until now. It made no sense,
and even Meg looked at Lucy curiously.

Ian considered Lucy’s abruptness with Lady Claire and tried to puzzle her out. She had not wanted to talk about Lady Muirhouse’s ball…at
least, not with Claire. Could she have been jealous of Claire’s attention to him?

It certainly seemed she’d attempted to prevent Claire from speaking to him, but she might have been piqued with Claire for some other reason.

He glanced at her lovely profile and felt the brush of her skirt against his leg as they walked. He would not have believed it was possible to feel such an
intense arousal just by walking beside a woman. But that was exactly his predicament as he escorted Lucy and her sister from the park, heading in the
direction of Kildrum House.

She was staggeringly beautiful, and he could have watched her sip tea for hours, though he’d have preferred a different, far more carnal use of her
mouth…

He took a deep breath and focused his attention on things in the street – a horse-driven, barrel-laden cart. Then a shopkeeper sweeping the pavement
outside his store. They weren’t nearly as alluring as the woman beside him, but they helped him shift his mind away from dangerous territory. He
reminded himself that Lucy had a legitimate suitor, one who had traveled some four hundred miles to be with her. And she had not given any indication that
he was unwelcome.

“I am sure you can secure an invitation to Lady Muirhouse’s ball, Lord Broxburn,” Meg said. “That is…if you want one.”

“I shall consider it,” he replied, though he did not care to spend an evening watching Parris dance with Lucy. Their tour of Holyrood was more
than enough for him.

Lucy said nothing, not a word to encourage him.

“I am surprised your brother and Mr. Parris are not with you today,” he said. Was it too much to hope that Lucy preferred it that way?

“They decided to try their hands at golf again,” Meg remarked.

“It is an addictive pastime for some.” He turned to Lucy. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I do like walking outdoors, so yes – I enjoyed that part of it.”

Aye, she did enjoy being outside. He’d seen that at Craigmuir, along with her passion for history.

He wondered if she’d told her sister of her encounter with Béatrice. Most people would be skeptical of a story about seeing ghosts, but it was
obvious that the two sisters were close and had a lot of respect for each other.

“Perhaps you will play again while the weather is still good.”

Lucy nodded.

“There is to be an auction Monday,” he said.

“Yes?” she said.

“The treasure,” he replied and then looked past her to Meg. “Miss Stillwater, your sister discovered some extremely valuable items in the
castle during her stay at Craigmuir – items we never would have known existed were it not for her interest in…antiquities.”

“How fascinating,” Meg said, looking at Lucy. “You went snooping around Lord Broxburn’s home?”

“Actually, it is not my home,” he said. “It is the residence of my father, the Duke of Craigmuir.”

“Oh! I had no idea,” Lucy said. “I thought—”

“No, my home is Pentland Manor, one of the ducal estates. It is several hours’ ride from Craigmuir.”

“Then you were only at the castle—”

“Because of my father’s illness. And estate affairs that needed to be addressed.”

“You have had some upheaval in the past few weeks, then,” Meg said.

More than she could possibly know. “Aye. But things seem to be resolving now. My father is improving, and problems with his estates are well in
hand.”

As he spoke, Duncan Munro exited a very expensive tailor’s shop just ahead, and started walking toward them. Ian gritted his teeth. Duncan could not
possibly have any business in such an extravagant place.

“Ah, Cousin Broxburn!” he said, grinning like a fool. “Miss Stillwater.”

Lucy cast a quick, questioning glance at Ian.

“Duncan,” Ian said. He wished he could turn around and lead Lucy and her sister away. But he would not create a scene on the street. There were
too many people about who would observe signs of the rift between them.

“I do not believe I know this beautiful lady,” Duncan said, referring to Lucy’s sister.

“Miss Stillwater, may I present my cousin, Duncan Munro. Duncan, Miss Meg Stillwater. We must be on our way.” The words rushed out of his mouth
and barely followed the most basic etiquette. He took Lucy’s arm and started walking away, certain that Meg would keep up.

Duncan fell into step beside Meg. He leaned forward. “I am pleased to meet you, Miss Stillwater. And to see you again, Miss Lucy.”

“Don’t you have something else to do, Duncan?” Ian asked without masking his irritation.

“No, not really,” his cousin replied with a calculating grin.

Ian did not know how to shake him loose. He’d told Lucy to stay clear of him, but neither sister knew how vile his cousin could be. Ian didn’t
want them anywhere near Duncan.

“How is your aunt, Miss Stillwater?” he asked.

“She is still recovering from her injuries,” Lucy replied. “Doing a little better every day.”

“I am so glad to hear it,” Duncan said, sounding magnanimous, as though he had any right to such a noble sentiment.

The longer they stayed in Duncan’s company the more Ian feared Lucy and Meg would get the impression that he was an acceptable companion. Which could
not be further from the truth.

“I am sure you have other things to do, Duncan,” Ian said.

“Well, you know how it is, old man,” Duncan said. His smile was calculated to charm the Stillwater ladies. “A gentleman must keep up his
appearance to please the ladies.”

“At MacDougal’s?”

Duncan had the audacity to look past the women and wink at him. Ian felt a sudden pounding behind his eyes.

“Did you know, ladies, that Broxburn was born in Ireland?”

Lucy and Meg looked at Ian.

“That has nothing to do with anything, Duncan,” Ian said harshly. “Why don’t you go on your wa—”

“In an out of the way village in Louth,” Duncan said. “No one has ever explained why he was not born at the Craigmuir estate in
Armagh.”

“And it does not matter one way or the other, Duncan,” Ian said firmly. “Now, if you will excuse us, I don’t believe we are in need
of your company any longer.”

Duncan stopped, and the wide grin he displayed made Ian want to strike him right here in the street. “I will bid you adieu, then, ladies.
Cousin.”

He walked away in the opposite direction while Ian’s blood boiled. Besides the scoundrel’s blackmail threat, the news Ferguson had just brought
him about Duncan’s mother was even worse. His cousin was not using his funds to take care of the Brodie property or his own mother. The woman barely
had enough coal to keep her bedroom warm. She had only one servant to take care of her, and Ferguson said he was as old and frail as Duncan’s mother.
How dare he make any insinuations whatso—

Lucy cleared her throat. “It is a pleasant day for walking.”

“Yes, very pleasant,” Meg said.

They were trying to gloss over the awkwardness of Duncan’s arrival, his few words, and his departure. “I apologize for that. My cousin and I do
not get along. To be clear, he is a bounder of the worst kind, and you should stay as far as possible away from him.”

It had been a veiled threat. Duncan was letting Ian know that his secret was not safe. Not unless Ian paid the blackmail, which would increase over time,
of course. Ian could deny it. He
would
deny it. But society loved gossip, and once the whispers started, it would be difficult to combat the
truth.

“Oh, my!” Meg said when they arrived at home and were alone in the drawing room. “That was quite something!”

Lucy nodded. “Yes, there is more than a little enmity between Broxburn and his cousin. I believe he even banished Mr. Munro from Craigmuir Castle
when we were there.”

“Oh, heavens, not that,” Meg said with a laugh. Then she turned serious. “You were quite rude to Lady Claire. You didn’t like her
talking to Broxburn.”