“I’m merely encouraging the guest speaker and her novel views,” Aaron said, trying not to laugh at the shock on his brother’s face. “I’d like to hear more.”
“You’re up to something, for sure. Dinnae anger our father any more than you already have, for he’ll surely hear of this. I fear for his health. Do you want him to die of apoplexy?” Will pursed his lips in disapproval.
“Dammit, Will, I’ve told you I’ll marry one of his choice. One day. I simply can’t bear to do it yet. I need to feel something for the woman I spend my life with. I don’t want to marry a lady who is only interested in my title.” Aaron stood, clapping his hands.
The women in the audience tittered, and a few gentlemen walked out. Others appeared scandalized into muteness at the outrageous proposition the lady had put to them. Desire was the sole province of men, and women had no place in that realm.
Lady Crystal met his gaze and smiled as he clapped louder. When happiness danced across her face, it transformed her to the sweetest of beauties. What an interesting woman. What a mind.
What a challenge.
He really must get to know her better.
Chapter Two
Lady Crystal stood next to Sir Walter Scott, whose hair was askew, his brow furrowed. Oh, heaven help her. Why had she blurted that out about desire? She’d meant to keep that little nutshell to herself, but fury at these clod-headed lords had made words spill unbidden from her lips.
It wasn’t as if she’d ever own up to spying on the handsome footman and the maid back home. The moans of pleasure, the sheer cries of ecstasy. But it had awakened something in her that refused to lie dormant. No one knew about her spying, but the secret had grown in her body, leaving her restless, unable to sleep at night for thinking about a man’s touch.
She gave herself a little shake. She had lords to face.
“Any questions for Lady Crystal?” Sir Walter asked the gathering.
The gentlemen in the room exploded with questions. The lords stood, their concerns bursting from their lips along with immoral comments.
Sir Walter raised his hands. “Silence! Gentlemen, I insist on appropriate behavior. Questions will be answered in an orderly fashion. Please sit. Do not shout out.”
The men sat, their hands resting on their strained haunches as if ready to spring for the hunt…with her as the prey. Perhaps this speech had not been the best idea…
A shiver passed down Crystal’s spine. She wondered if Sir Walter could contain them, given his polio-weakened frame and lameness.
Sir Walter gestured to the aristocrat who had avoided collision with the fan. “Sir, you may ask the first question.”
Over six feet tall, the man couldn’t be missed, thanks to his domed forehead, wide blue eyes, and fiery hair color. “My name’s Laird Angus Stuart, an’ I’ve naught heard of women expressing this shameful need for a man. Well, not in such a public forum—”
“That’s because no woman’s wanted you, you ugly brute,” called a gentleman wearing the Ross tartan across the room. “Mah sister ran as if the hounds of hell were on her tail.”
The audience roared with laughter.
“Women feel just the way men do, but we have so many constraints put on us. For too long, this country has not been giving women the same education as men, nor crediting them with intelligence. It’s time to change that. Women should be taught to read and write, same as boys are,” she said. “They should be making their own decisions.”
“Why? A woman’s role is to marry and have children. Why waste money on educating them?” asked a man at the front.
“Without education, women cannae support their children if their husbands die or have no work.” Frustration surged up her body. What fools some of these men were! She wanted to knock their heads together.
“Educate women? The last thing we need is more bluestockings telling us what to do,” shouted a man from the side, his face puce, his expression enraged.
The men turned back to her en mass with snarling lips and dangerously glinting eyes. Wolves in gentlemen’s clothing. They would never give up their power.
Damn them all to hell! They were no better than her overbearing father, determined to stamp his thumb on his three daughters’ foreheads after he’d broken their mother.
“Stop this now,” she cried out. “I’ve spoken on this same subject at private gatherings and at the meeting houses of the working class, and never have I seen such boorish, unruly behavior. You call yourselves leaders of Scottish society? Have you not listened to what I’ve been saying?”
“I’ve not met a woman who has a man’s urges. You’re naught but a right slapag to suggest it,” yelled a man.
Crystal gasped at the Gaelic term for whore. She turned to Sir Walter. “You told me this audience was intelligent and mannered.”
“My deep apologies, Lady Crystal.” He addressed the audience. “Gentlemen, please. Have respect! I will not abide lewd name calling. Those who cannot behave as gentlemen can leave this salon immediately.”
The footman opened the salon door in invitation.
“You’re naught but a strìopach, a hoor,” a man called, and others joined in until the walls rumbled with the sound. Several men stood and advanced toward her.
A ripple of fear raced down her spine. “I’d like to leave now,” she told Sir Walter nervously.
A tall, muscular man stormed to the front of the salon, shoving past the surging men, and faced down the crowd. It was Lord Lyle.
“Insult this lady and you’ll know mah sgian-dubh, friend or foe.”
“Ach, Lyle, the lass is a strumpet,” Laird Angus called. “I’ll see her arrested for sedition.”
Lord Lyle glowered at the Stuart lord. “You’ll do no such thing. Her words are not seditious. Lady Crystal has a right to her opinions, which I happen to find sensible.”
“You do?” the Stuart lord asked, his eyes bulging.
“You do?” Crystal echoed softly.
“Aye, and I’ll not have the lady’s honor insulted because you lot cannae behave.” He put his arm around her shoulders in a protective manner. “I’ll be escorting you home, Lady Crystal, for I think these lords have had quite enough enlightened thinking for now. Their rock heads cannae take it.”
No man had ever drawn her close with such assurance, and although her heart thumped with fury at the attitudes of the Scottish lords, she was grateful for Lord Lyle’s protection.
An oath was muttered nearby at Lord Lyle’s words, but the aggressive mood seemed to dissipate with his intervention. She had only just met Lyle and did not know his reputation, but he was clearly respected by this crowd. Men stepped to the side to let them pass.
“Thank you, Lord Lyle. I’m quite disappointed with the ungentlemanly response tonight,” she said as they stepped out onto the street. “I was hoping for intelligent discussion from the lords.”
“I can see you’re unhappy, and you’ve a right to be, but your ideas are confronting,” he said.
“How can things change if those in power refuse to consider new concepts? We women are powerless to live our own lives unless we can support ourselves. Without education, that is impossible.”
How long had she fought for independence, refusing to marry the gormless lords presented to her by her father? His fury at her stubbornness hadn’t changed her mind. Imprisoning her in her bedroom hadn’t worked; even a threatened whipping hadn’t worked. Only her father’s recent death had liberated her and her sisters, leaving her unwed at twenty with an annual income. She would never give up her freedom.
Never!
Chapter Three
Aaron escorted Lady Crystal to his town coach bearing the Lomond coat of arms, waiting on the street in front of Sir Walter’s home. She was remarkably quiet for a woman who had been so vociferous earlier. He hoped the unruly display had not dampened her sp
irit, for he’d never seen such fire. Something in him stirred deep. How he admired her!
His coachman climbed down from his seat up the front and opened the door for them. Aaron assisted Lady Crystal into the coach, noting the litheness of her frame as she climbed in.
He quickly followed, keen to get her out of sight from the rowdy men with too much whisky in them. The lords were used to argument—the whole of Scottish history had been fraught with it—but they didn’t like to have their conservative views challenged by a woman.
“Where are you residing, Lady Crystal?” he asked.
“Wilding House, which is at Wilding Close. My family has a house there, in Edinburgh Old Town off the high street.”
He informed his coachman of their destination, then, noticing her hunched form, asked, “Are you all right?”
She turned to him, and even in the semi-darkness, her sea-green eyes blazed. “Why is it that working men can consider my views, but aristocrats refuse to do so?”
“Ah. Drinking and fighting is what we do best,” he joked, hoping to lighten her mood.
“You’re so right,” she said, her mouth set in a petulant line.
“I listened to every word. I’ll admit I was spellbound. Did you mean it when you said women have desires?” A bump formed in his breeches at the thought of her demanding he ravish her.
“I shouldn’t have said that. It was too much and not part of my planned speech.”
“But do you really have such feelings?”
Her face closed down. “I said it, but that doesn’t mean I’m a lightskirt. Why do women have to be demure, virginal simpletons to be considered marriageable? Not that I ever want to marry.”
“Not marry?” he asked, shocked again. He’d never heard the like.
Her chin tilted up. “I’m not suited to marriage. Even if I were, I have no intention of giving up my income to a lord. That would be foolish.” She gave him a quirk of a smile. “Besides, by now you should have gathered I’m not obedient.”
“So I see. But are you truly free to decide your own fate?” he asked, hopeful.
She didn’t look particularly hot-blooded with her precise blond curls styled under her plumed hat. She had an aristocrat’s long nose, but it was neat in her heart-shaped face. The one giveaway could be that her eyes lit up when her ire was aroused.
How he’d like to be the one to stir her passion! Especially because she didn’t want to marry. That suited him perfectly.
“My father, Earl Wilding, tried to arrange a marriage for me with a laird whom I disliked. But father recently passed away, leaving me to my own destiny.”
“I’ve heard of the heroic exploits of Lord Wilding. He was a very impressive man.”
Her mouth turned down. “My father was a great leader but ruled his daughters with an iron fist.”
Aaron wouldn’t be surprised if they were all strong-willed like her. Deep down, he accepted the system they lived with, even though he didn’t want to be forced into marriage himself. Still, it was Lady Crystal’s spirit that attracted him, and he had a great desire to take her in his arms.
The carriage rocked from side to side, and his shoulder brushed against hers. “We have much in common, which is why I enjoyed your speech. My father is insisting I marry, and I, too, have no wish to wed a person I have no regard for.”
“Surely, as his heir, you will have a say in the matter?” Sympathy crossed her face, and she lost the angry, pinched expression. Up close, she had large, widely spaced eyes and a full, lush mouth. Her blond locks around the nape of her neck bounced with the rhythm of the carriage.
“I have had several lassies presented to me like fillies at market. Ladies chosen by my father, all of excellent pedigree, all simpering and agreeable. They are under much pressure to please me, whether they wish to or not.”
“And this is disagreeable to you?”
“I don’t like this game we are forced to play, although I understand the need for marriage and the need to keep wealth in the family. It’s just that I cannae abide forced marriage. It’s demeaning, and times have changed. Others are able to choose, but I cannot. The poor ladies have to pretend they’re interested in me, and I feel like a stallion with a wallet.”
She laughed, then—really laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
She looked him over as if assessing him for her bed. “That’s an apt description. That’s how I felt when my father insisted I meet lords of his choice. Not being a stallion, though,” she quickly amended with a grin. “But a breeding mare.”
He laughed at her description, sensing underneath a deep understanding dawning between them. “I wish to choose my own wife in my own time.”
Unfortunately, he had little choice in the matter. His father thought of nothing but pleasing his new wife and was quickly burying the estate in debt. Aaron desperately needed to take over the reins of the estate, but his father wouldn’t let him do that unless he married.
The coach hit a pothole as it entered the city gates, and Lady Crystal bumped against him. She gripped his arm in alarm as the carriage rocked from side to side. He fought the urge to pull this uncannily attractive lassie into his embrace.
He leaned out the window. “Slow down, Jenson. We don’t have the devil on our tail.”
“Not any longer, thanks to you, my lord,” Lady Crystal said with a grateful smile. “You have been most kind tonight.”
“You’re a special lassie, my lady. Your views dinnae suit the times we live in, and yet, your words are a boon upon my heart. I feel you understand me, even though you don’t know me.”
“And I you,” she said, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of rose.
He studied her lovely face, wishing he had the courage to kiss her. But he’d already done quite enough to besmirch her reputation.
“It’ll be all over town that I escorted you home alone. I’ll return to Sir Walter’s immediately to collect my brother as soon as I’ve walked you to your door, or your reputation will be lost.”
“I think speaking about women’s sexual desire will already have some effect on my social standing.”
Her blunt veracity made him protective. “Aren’t you worried about it?”
“I told you before: I didn’t mean to say it, so please stop bringing it up. I don’t plan to marry, so hopefully that gaff won’t come back to bite me.”
What an unusual young lady she was!
The coach pulled up on the stone road of the high street, where a mix of all classes dwelled together in the high, tightly packed tenement housing. The driver opened the coach door.
Aaron climbed down, holding his hand out to assist her as she searched for where to place her booted feet.
“Wait for me, Jenson, while I escort the lady to her door.”
Aaron forced himself not to gag at the stink of the old city, where folks threw their chamber pots onto the street at night. A wall-mounted oil lamp cast enough light for him to see and pick his way without soiling his clothes.
They crossed the road, the lady careful to lift her skirts to avoid the horse dung and filth, and walked down the dark steps to the close, which was not much more than a steep alleyway leading to a courtyard. A weathered plaque on the front of the six-story building read Wilding House 1670, signaling the once-fancy address of Lady Crystal’s family. He walked her up the long stone stairs to the fourth floor and watched as she knocked on the door and waited for her maid to answer.
He wondered idly what would have become of her if he hadn’t been a gentleman and safeguarded her at her talk. “Why aren’t you chaperoned?” he asked.
“I sent my maid back to the house earlier, as you saw. Sir Walter and his wife had planned to see me safely home.”
He looked at her askance. “If you must speak on delicate subjects, perhaps you should employ a strong footman to take you to
your meetings and offer you some protection,” he suggested.
“Tonight was the first time I’ve encountered such dissension. I already employ a cook, a maid, and a lad to cart water. Though, I agree a footman would be useful.” She held out her hand. “Thank you again, my lord. I am most appreciative of your assistance tonight. I can never repay your kindness.”
Her gloved hand was small in his, the bones fragile. He bent and kissed it, keeping hold of her hand as he gave her a penetrating look. “Perhaps you can. How grateful are you, Lady Crystal?”
She gasped and gazed up at him. “What do you mean? Dinnae be expecting a liberty just because I admitted to the feeling of desire. I’ve told you before, I’m no lightskirt.”
He shook his head. “Liberties I am offered aplenty from ladies who wish to ensnare me in marriage. No, from you I ask a favor, for you are the most fascinating lassie I’ve met in years.”
She snatched her hand from his, then turned and hammered on the door with her fist before looking back at him with a scowl on her face. “You will be sadly disappointed if you think I’ll make myself available to you.”
“But you’re not taken?” he asked, confused.
“I thought I made my point. I’m single and intend on remaining so.”
“Good.”
The Highland Wilding family was very old, well-respected, and famous. According to the war office, the clan leadership skill of her father, the late earl who had fought under Wellington in the Peninsular Wars, was legendary. The family produced warriors, generations of them, who’d fought for what they believed in. If the lady were a man, she’d no doubt be in parliament.
The door opened, and a maid awaited them with a lamp, which illuminated Lady Crystal’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “Leave the lamp with me, Hilda. I wish to speak with Lord Lyle. Please go to the kitchen and heat me some milk to have with my supper.”
The maid curtsied, cast him a look of suspicion, and left.
Lady Crystal put her hands on her hips and glared at him with a mulish expression, which was actually rather endearing. “What favor do you have in mind? Choose your words carefully, for I’ve a flintlock pistol at my disposal, and after tonight, I’ve a mind to use it.”
An Unsuitable Lady for a Lord (Scottish Lords and Ladies) Page 2
