“Two can play at that game, my lord,” she chortled as he tried to look indignant. “Never underestimate yer opponent. Calum taught me that.”
“Wise words I should heed.” He bowed, thinking how delectable she looked in his mother’s riding habit. She drew in deep breaths, and the forest green jacket and skirt that hugged her curves accentuated her heaving chest. Gideon pulled his gaze back to her face, as he had been careful to do every day since he’d made the decision to marry her. “Even the dog beat me!”
He dismounted then moved to help her down. Before he could reach her, Alisabeth flipped her leg over the saddle and slid to the ground with her backside to him. Good God, this will be a long six months, he thought with a grin and a grimace. That was the earliest he could begin a courtship, and he hoped to have already won her affection. After that, he’d woo her until he captured her heart. Until then, he would remain a perfect gentleman if it killed him.
The horses bent their necks and munched greedily on the last of the summer grass. “Why does yer ma think I need so many dresses? I canna wear more than one at a time. Three or four should be more than enough.”
“Ah, my dear girl. If you were in London, you would need a morning dress, an afternoon dress, and of course ball dresses. And a chit cannot wear the same dress in the same company. In the country, and since you are in mourning, your entertainment is limited.” He paused, cursing himself when he saw a momentary shadow cross her face. “Our social schedule will be limited to local guests and small dinner parties. Perhaps, if you are very well behaved, some dancing. We do not have to follow protocol to the letter if there’s no one to witness our impropriety.”
The light was back in her smile, and the heaviness in his chest eased.
“There is always a darker side to every cloud, I suppose. And is throwing propriety to the wind part of yer new open-mindedness?”
“Perhaps. Along with the opportunity to teach a beautiful woman how to waltz. It’s a very romantic dance.” He wiggled his eyebrows, trying to keep the tone light. His body was quickly responding to the thought of holding her close.
“I look forward to the lesson, my lord.” She pointed to a carriage parked in the courtyard. “We have guests. It’s quite fancy for a dressmaker. But if she makes such extensive wardrobes for all the girls coming out, I imagine she’s quite plump in the pocket.” She added her best English accent to the last bit of cant.
Gideon chuckled. Her imitation of an English noble was quite good. The woman had a knack at mockery that made one guffaw rather than glare. Perhaps it was her ability to laugh at herself that endeared her to everyone. The servants adored her, and she’d already charmed her way into the kitchen. Even his stodgy butler Sanders seemed smitten with her, a crooked smile on his face whenever she cast a smile his way.
They walked across the bridge, the clatter of hooves echoing in the quiet morning air. He studied the conveyance. “That’s the Marlen crest. Marietta has arrived early.” She probably ordered the carriage as soon as she got the letter, he thought with a grin. His mother must have mentioned their guest and his interest in her.
Lissie slowed her step. “Does she know about…everything?”
“Mama wrote her and told her of our trip. But I’m sure she’ll have plenty of questions so she can fend off the on-dits when she’s in London. Rumors have a way of slinking into the parlors and ballrooms of that city.” He winked at her. “Should we give them something to gossip about?”
“Ye are incorrigible, Gideon. I’m anxious to meet yer sister now and see who she takes after. It sounds like yer ma, or at least I’m hoping.” She grinned. “Ye may be sorely outnumbered with opinions when we gather around the hearth tonight.”
“Nothing would please me more.” To his surprise, he meant it. He handed off the horses to the stable boy. Lissie thanked the groom who had followed them as a chaperone. No one and no deed escaped her notice.
Sanders greeted them at the door. Alisabeth stood on her tiptoes, placed her hand on his shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, turned a bright red, and mumbled, “Any time, my lady.” Then to Gideon, “My lord, Lady Marlen has arrived. She and the countess are having breakfast in the dining room.”
His stomach growled at the mention of food, and he pushed Lissie down the hall. “Are you flirting with my butler?”
“I only thanked him for the advice he’s given me. I dinna ken the intricacies of yer world, and he’s been verra kind to guide me.” She gave him a side look as they entered the room. “I’m determined not to embarrass ye when visitors come calling.”
“You are delightful, my dear, and would never be an embarrassment,” replied his mother from the long table. She and Marietta stood and Gideon made the introductions.
Etta’s sharp eyes surveyed the widow, and then she held out her hand with a warm smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Mama’s letter had me intrigued.” She glanced at Gideon with a smirk as she perused Alisabeth. “She is a beauty.”
Lissie blushed and thanked her. “And ye take after yer mother, I see, not afraid to speak yer mind. I was hoping as much.”
Etta’s profile in an emerald green dress showed a rounding belly, the white satin ribbon emphasizing the bump. “I hope I didn’t irritate you, Gideon, when I changed my plans. I know you don’t like last minute changes, but if I waited too long, Bradford—that’s my husband, Viscount Marlen,” she explained to Lissie, “would not have let me come. He has secured the best physicians for the birthing. No country doctors for his first child.”
“The babe is expected in February?” Gideon didn’t like the thought of any of his sisters in childbirth. Too many infants and women died in the process. Though his mother had survived labor seven times, only four had survived. “I will do my best to get Mama to London.”
“I know you will.” Etta patted his cheek and then ignored him. “Do you want to change before the interrogation begins? Or would you prefer some porridge and biscuits to bolster your strength so we can get started right away? I want to know all about you and Scotland and…”
His sister linked arms with Lissie, and they moved to the table. Gideon thought of his grandfather’s scotch and wondered if he’d need his own fortitude bolstered to withstand the barrage of females.
Alisabeth realized her worries had been for naught. Etta was as warm and open as Maeve. She was also full of energy and never seemed to stop moving, even in her condition. Embroidery held her attention a scant fifteen minutes. When she moved on to a book or pastels, her foot tamped as if her mind was already thinking about what to tackle next. There was no instrument in the music room Marietta had not mastered. Accomplished did not begin to describe her.
“Those talents are due to her inability to sit still,” Maeve said one night after Etta had played the violin, the harp, and the pianoforte. “My daughter must be busy all the time. She inherited her father’s stubbornness and never ceases until she’s mastered whatever is her latest fancy.”
“I do believe you’re in possession of that tenacious quality yourself, dear Mama,” Gideon said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. He grinned at the nasty look she cast him in reward.
She and Gideon’s sister had become fast friends after a week. The family had gathered in the drawing room again, enjoying a light melody by Etta on the lute. Rain splattered the windowpanes, and an occasional streak of lightning added a flash of light upon the room.
“Whoever was responsible for my single-mindedness, it certainly came in handy when I pursued my husband.” She positioned her fingers again on the strings of the lute and played a little more.
“An unfair match to be sure. The poor sot never stood a chance. Once Etta decided Marlen would be her husband, she was relentless. She was at every event he attended, wearing her most seductive gowns, tripping in front of him, spilling champagne down his waistcoat…” Gideon put his hand to one side of his mouth and whispered loudly, “I think he realized it was easier to give in than to fight her
.”
Lissie pressed her lips together as Etta continued to play but softly snuck up behind her brother. She loved watching their good-natured teasing.
Thump! “Ouch!” Gideon rubbed his head.
“He succumbed to my feminine charms, you dolt.” She reached up and twisted the hairs at his nape, the gold specks in her light brown eyes flashing. “Admit it.” She yanked and his head tipped back.
“Fine, your exquisite manners won him over,” he said with gritted teeth but winked at Lissie. When Etta let go, he jibed, “And that is an example of her infamous charm!”
“Children, children,” called Maeve in mock severity. “I shall send you to your rooms. Gideon, why don’t you sing?”
“I think Etta should sing. That would chase the devil from his den.”
His sister confided to Alisabeth. “I’m the only one in the family who cannot sing. I sound like a sheep giving birth in a blizzard.”
“And how many sheep have ye witnessed giving birth in a blizzard?” Lissie quipped.
“Touché,” said Gideon, an appreciative gleam in his eye.
“It was a stormy winter’s night when I helped Brownie and Black Angus into the world.” She explained to Marietta, “They’re yer grandfather’s favorite dogs—Scottish deerhounds.”
“What odd names,” she remarked. “One sounds as if it belongs to a smaller dog and the other to a highwayman.”
Alisabeth laughed. “They’re faeries, ye ken. One is sweet and the other is Death.”
“Come sit by the fire and tell them about our Scottish faeries.” Maeve patted the cushion next to her on the settee. “I want my grandchildren to know all of our history.”
Lissie sat next to her and smoothed out the sienna lace covering the muslin of her new gown. Maeve had remarked how it set off her cognac eyes. Well, how best to begin with an audience who had no knowledge of them? “The Wee Folk have been part of Scotland since time began. There are both benevolent and dangerous faeries so they’re not creatures to call up on a whim.”
Her audience nodded and assumed a more serious expression while Maeve chuckled at the reprimand.
“Our girl Brownie is like her namesakes, the sweetest, kindest of all the faeries. Odd little dwarves with shiny black eyes, pointed ears, and long fingers. They canna stand liars, cheats, misers, or cats.”
“Cats?” asked Etta, her brow arched as her fingers drummed the armrest.
“They hate cats, drink milk and ale, and love honey and cake. If you think a Brownie has come upon yer house, check the attic or cellar.”
“How would you know?”
“They look for homes filled with deserving folk and help with chores around the house. So ye’ll go to chop the wood or draw water from the well and find it already done. Verra helpful, they are.”
“So what about Black Angus?” Gideon leaned forward on the leather chair, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on a fist. “Since I’ve met the hound, Death sounds appropriate.”
“He warmed up to ye after a time. In our tongue, he’s Cu Sith, which translates to faerie dog, a huge black hound with golden eyes and sharp teeth. It is said that anyone confronted by him will die within two weeks’ time. He jumps in your path and growls his message of death before slinking away.” Lissie lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Calum says his great-great grandfather named a deerhound Black Angus from every litter. Anytime an Englishman came close to the property, he’d send his dog of death to greet them.”
“And did they die?” asked Etta.
She shrugged. “The English were never invited to stay, ye ken. The MacNaughtons continued the custom. Calum, as his father before him, uses each Black Angus as a guard dog. No one wants the hound sitting in front of him and growling, so they stay verra quiet and dinna move.”
“So that’s why he put the dog next to Ross when we were in the village.” Gideon grinned. “If he put up a fuss or ran, the dog would block him, and he might be cursed.”
Maeve stifled a yawn. “Thank ye, Lissie, for sharing with us. Perhaps we can hear more tomorrow night?”
“Whenever ye like, my lady.” She squeezed the older lady’s hand. “I thank ye, all of ye, for making me feel so welcome.”
Marietta jumped up and hugged her. “I’m so glad to have met you. Our time together is much too short. You must promise to come with Mama when the babe is born.”
“If Maeve will have me, I’d love to meet the bairn and your husband. But ye dinna leave until next week, so let’s not think of parting yet.”
That night as Lissie prepared for bed, she thought of Scotland and her family and the faeries. Wistfulness assailed her, and she wiped away a tear from her cheek as she peered out the window. If only she had a bit of home, she thought as she made out the blurred image of a willow tree through the slanting rain. A dim light flickered in its branches at the same time she heard a faint sound. A beautiful voice humming a sweet, compelling melody.
Lissie ran to the door and looked up and down the hall. Saints and sinners, nothing in the passageway. She went back to the window. The light flickered again and then went out. The faerie voice faded away. Her heart lifted inexplicably, and the homesickness in her soul eased.
Chapter 11
“Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.”
—Lord Byron
Stanfeld Estate
February 1820
Gideon tied his cravat with deft fingers, adjusted the small diamond pin, and inspected his reflection. The cranberry waistcoat and dark blue tailcoat were expertly tailored. He was complete to a shade—even he would want to court this image in the mirror, he thought wryly. But Alisabeth’s approval was all that mattered. He would ask her tonight after supper, during a game of chess. The board would keep a barrier between them so he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss those plump, pink lips.
They had grown close over the last months, and he had slowly begun to appreciate her unusual views and astute observations. Not only was she beautiful, she was awake on every suit, clever with a discerning mind. At first, he had been concerned their different upbringings would be a hindrance, but it was the opposite. She opened his mind to possibilities he had never imagined. With some surprise, Gideon realized he valued her opinion.
Birks had received an offer last week to lease a large section of land. The terms were generous and the tenants’ terms would be up at the end of the year. He had brought up the subject at dinner, and Lissie had offered her thoughts. If the tenants could afford a higher rent, or offered a percentage of their yield, Gideon would not have to evict families who had been on the estate for generations. Her reasoning made sense. The tenants rotated crops among themselves, keeping the soil rich. A large lease would drain the acreage for a quick and hefty income, but the land would yield little after the lease was up.
In the end, Gideon had turned down the short-term profit for a long-term investment with his tenants. Yes, Alisabeth would make an excellent match for him, and he could not imagine a life without her. Her smile when he entered the room, and the light in her eyes when they brushed against one another, told him she must feel the same. Yet, worry niggled at him.
The trio had managed a trip to Glasgow before Christmas since the weather had been mild. His grandparents had come without his aunt’s family but, to Lissie’s delight, had brought the Craiggs. Glynis had been recuperating from a fever, and his cousin Brodie had not wanted her to travel. They had all been delighted to see family again. Gideon had welcomed the opportunity for his future in-laws to get know him better without the pressure of a betrothal.
Lachlan was fully recovered and back at the mill, overseeing all exports, imports, and production. When asked about the woman, Fenella, he’d been very vague. Mama pestered Colin, now overseer of all employees, and found out the chit was engaged to another. If he knew his cousin, a betrothal would not stand in his way. He and Lachlan were both formidable when on a mission. And I am indeed on a mission
, he thought as he fiddled with the cravat again.
His mother knew what he was about and had arranged a delectable supper for that evening. He walked into the dining room and inspected the setting. Freshly polished silver sparkled in the candlelight. Mead from Ireland, Lissie’s favorite, had been brought up from the cellar. It would be served with the last course, warmed with a hint of lemon.
Both women entered, chattering about the cold and the pond freezing over. Shimmering violet silk accentuated Alisabeth’s soft curves beneath a delicate black lace. The overlay did not hide the creamy white mounds that beckoned his fingers to cup their round fullness. He quickly lifted his gaze to her warm smile, but the sensuous mouth did nothing to dampen his ardor. He assisted them to their seats and concentrated on his mother.
Over clear soup, he struggled for conversation, his nerves getting the best of him. “So you know the pond is frozen, Mama? We haven’t been skating since before I went to university. Would you be up to it?”
“Yes, I was just thinking about Lake Perfect. We had such marvelous times there with the family. Have ye ever been ice skating?” she asked Alisabeth.
Lissie shook her head. “No, but I’m a willing pupil if ye’re a patient teacher. Lake Perfect?” she asked with a giggle. “It sounds…perfect!”
Gideon’s mind envisioned the two of them on the ice, his arm around her waist, holding her up on the slippery surface. Pay attention to the conversation, you blunderhead. He brought his mind back to the present. “My youngest sister Helen gave it the moniker and the name stuck. It provided fishing for me, swimming for all of the siblings, skating for the entire family, and sustenance for the ‘wood folk’ on the property.”
“Wood folk?”
“Anything living in the woods were ‘folk’ to Helen. As a child, she insisted she could speak to them.” He chuckled. “She did have long conversations with several bullfrogs, I remember. They just never answered her back.”
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