The Princess Wore Plaid

by Karen Hawkins

  Lady Ailsa,

  Pray inform my grandmother that the “case” to which she is referring is actually a very large and heavy trunk and it would take well over two weeks to ship it, by which time her visit will be over. She can do without it.

  HRH Nikolai

  Holyroodhouse

  Edinburgh

  September 19, 1821

  * * *

  To: His Royal Highness

  Prince Nikolai Romanovin of Oxenburg

  Holyroodhouse

  Edinburgh

  Sir,

  Once again, I am writing on behalf of your grandmother, the Grand Duchess Natasha Nikolaevna. Her Grace requests (again) that you send her black leather case which contains her lotions as soon as possible (again), for she has great need of it (still). As she has decided to stay another month and perhaps longer, there is now plenty of time to have it delivered. I look forward to seeing it soon.

  Yours sincerely,

  Lady Ailsa Mackenzie

  Castle Leod

  September 21, 1821

  * * *

  To: Lady Ailsa Mackenzie

  Castle Leod

  Lady Ailsa,

  I was not aware Her Grace was staying another month and (hopefully) longer. I cannot tell you how happy I am to learn this. Expect that blasted case in the next week or so.

  HRH Nikolai

  Holyroodhouse

  Edinburgh

  September 27, 1821

  * * *

  To: His Royal Highness

  Prince Nikolai Romanovin of Oxenburg

  Holyroodhouse

  Edinburgh

  Sir,

  I regret to inform you that Her Grace’s dressing case still has not arrived and your grandmother the Grand Duchess Nikolaevna strongly requests that you send it immediately. She wishes me to point out that it has been one week and four days since your letter was posted. (As an aside, I did point out that your use of “next week or so” was obviously a generalization and the case would most likely show up before this letter arrives on your desk, but she will have none of it.)

  What information should I convey to Her Grace regarding her case?

  Yours sincerely,

  Lady Ailsa Mackenzie

  Castle Leod

  October 8, 1821

  * * *

  To: Lady Ailsa Mackenzie

  Castle Leod

  Lady Ailsa,

  When my men fetched the trunk last week from Her Grace’s bedchamber to ship it to Castle Leod, we discovered something dripping out of one corner. Upon opening the trunk, my men and I were met with a smell I cannot describe, even though it still lingers throughout the house like a deadly mist.

  The trunk is not a “dressing case” of lotions, but is filled with my grandmother’s potions. It is amusing what one letter can do to a word, is it not? Sadly, some of her potion bottles were broken when the trunk was last moved. I can only imagine her “eye of newt” (or whatever it is she uses) caused that deadly odor and hope that none of us are overcome by it, or—as is more likely—turned into some sort of goat or toad.

  Before I can send the trunk, it must be cleaned, aired, and left to dry. As soon as that has been done, I will have it repacked and sent on its way by private courier.

  Meanwhile, pray tell my grandmother that the “case” should be there forthwith. (Note: You cannot measure “forthwith.” I trust this will end this unnecessary correspondence.)

  HRH N

  Holyroodhouse

  Edinburgh

  October 14, 1821

  Chapter 1

  Castle Leod

  The Small Study

  October 21, 1821

  Lady Ailsa Mackenzie rested her elbows on the glossy surface of her mahogany desk and pressed her fingers to her temples. “What do you mean, she’s ‘gone missing’?”

  Ailsa’s grandmother, Lady Edana MacGregor Mackenzie, the Dowager Countess Cromartie, fluttered her lace handkerchief gracefully and repeated, “The duchess is missing. She is not in the house.” Dressed in black, a color Lady Edana had assumed on the death of her husband the late earl more than ten years earlier, she made an impressive figure. Tall and willowy, with carefully coiffed golden-dyed hair that echoed the true color that had faded years ago, Edana hadn’t allowed age to rob her of the famed MacGregor beauty. “Ailsa, I am deeply concerned. Poor Natasha does not know the dangers of our Highland countryside.”

  Lady Ailsa wished her grandmother would expend less effort on her hair and more on her ability to communicate what seemed to be vital information. Of course, clarity was not Lady Edana’s strong suit. Though it was confusing to visitors, the older woman disliked being called “grandmother” or any form thereof, and would only answer to her given name. “Why do you think Her Grace is missing and nae merely off on a visit?”

  “It’s ‘not,’ dear—not ‘nae.’ ” Edana sighed heavily. “I do wish your father had sent you to a proper boarding school, the way he did your sisters.”

  “My father had five daughters, one verrah expensive son, and my cousin Gregor to see after. Papa could nae afford boarding school for all of us, especially after purchasing a set of colors for Duclan. Those are not cheap.”

  “I suppose so. But how does he expect you to find a suitable match when you are lacking in graces and locked away here in the highlands?”

  Ailsa’s lips twitched. “My home is here, at Castle Leod, and I’m content. There’s nae more to be said.”

  Lady Edana’s face folded with disappointment. “Well, I think he should have done more for you.”

  Poor Papa. In addition to paying for their educations and then providing dowries for his many daughters, as well as purchasing a set of colors for his horse-mad son, Papa also paid the way for his nephew Gregor, who’d been left in his car, and his own mother. On the best of days, Edana was an expensive guest. And Gregor was not much better.

  Ailsa glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Are you sure Her Grace is nae just sleeping? I’ve ne’er seen her before noon any day since she arrived.”

  “Yes, I’m positive. We were to meet for breakfast almost an hour ago.” Edana dabbed her kerchief at her dry eyes. “I am so worried!”

  “But you waited an hour to say something?”

  “Well, I had to eat, of course, for I was famished. Besides, I thought the housekeeper would find Natasha somewhere”—Edana wafted her handkerchief—“sunning herself, or something.”

  “Sunning herself? In this weather?” Ailsa nodded to the window, which framed the snow-covered lawn.

  “That was a poor choice of words. It’s obvious Her Grace doesn’t tend to herself at all, but allows Nature to have her way.” Edana wrinkled her nose. “It’s sad, really, for she could be a lovely woman.”

  “Yes, well, besides your dislike of Her Grace’s resistance to the use of artifice, pray explain why you are concerned.”

  “I wasn’t concerned at first, but when Mrs. Attnee came back from her search and said Natasha couldn’t be found anywhere, then I became worried. We were to have breakfast at ten and then ride to town to visit the seamstress, for last night we both realized we needed new shawls.”

  “I take it that means the two of you were speaking again,” Ailsa said politely.

  “La, child, of course we were speaking!” Edana frowned, though she instantly ceased, for fear of deepening the lines between her eyes. “I admit we’ve had a few disagreements during her visit, but that is to be expected—it’s been ages since we were last together. And I must admit that she’s changed dreadfully; it was sad seeing her climb down from that carriage. She must have aged forty years in the time we were apart.”

  As it had been almost forty years since they’d last seen one another, Ailsa didn’t find this difficult to believe. “How did you ascertain that Her
Grace was missing and nae merely busy somewhere else? Perhaps she went for a drive?”

  “I sent the butler to make inquiries. MacGill reported that all of the coaches and horses are accounted for.” Edana sighed impatiently. “Ailsa, she is missing. We must send out a search party.”

  “In what direction? And looking for what? A woman walking in the snow? If she’s traveling by foot, the weather will turn her back quickly enough.”

  “Of course she’s not walking! She’s a duchess, for the love of heaven. But she—” Lady Edana caught Ailsa’s surprised gaze and quickly looked away. “I suppose she could be walking, but I can’t imagine it. As you say, the weather is unappealing.”

  Ailsa leaned back in her chair. “There’s something you’re nae telling me.”

  As Lady Edana adjusted her shawl, Ailsa detected the faintest hit of a flush under her grandmother’s face paint. “Nonsense. There’s nothing more to tell. Nothing at all.”

  “If there’s nae more to tell, then there’s nae more to do, either.” Ailsa pulled the stack of waiting correspondence over. “The Grand Duchess Nikolaevna is neither a button that has been misplaced nor a puppy that has wandered off. Wherever she is, she got there under her own power and she is where she wants to be.”

  “Ailsa, please! I beg you! Natasha must be found. She’s a grand duchess, and you can’t go losing a grand duchess. Think of the scandal! Her family will be beside themselves.”

  “That, I doubt. I’ve been in contact with her grandson over that ridiculous black case Her Grace kept mentioning, and from his tone, he’s none too anxious to have her back. Having had her as a guest, I can understand his reluctance.”

  “Couldn’t we set the dogs on her trail or something?”

  “If she took a walk, there would be footprints in the snow. I assumed MacGill already looked, when he sent someone to the stable to count the horses and carriages.”

  Edana sighed. “So he said.”

  “Then there’s naught to do. She will return when she’s of a mind to. Meanwhile, I’ve much to do. Father left me in charge of the estate while he’s in London for the next four months, and since Mr. MacCutcheon broke his leg hunting, I’ve more to do now than I’ve time in the day.”

  “MacCutcheon is a wretched estate manager. I don’t know how many times I’ve told Dougal to fire the man, and now look at how he has left you.”

  “I hardly think that breaking one’s leg counts as dereliction of duty.” Ailsa picked up a letter opener. “If you will excuse me, I have at least ten letters than must be written today, a list of repairs to make, and—”

  “Fine! I’ll tell you what’s happened, but do not blame me if something ill has occurred to poor Natasha while you’ve been lollygagging about with estate nonsense!”

  “ ‘Estate nonsense’ is what puts a roof over our head and food oopon our table,” Ailsa said tartly. “So tell me: what happened to Her Grace?”

  “This is a dire situation.” Lady Edana knotted her handkerchief. “Natasha is so impetuous. I told her how it would end, but she would not listen.”

  “Edana, please, can you just tell me what you know?”

  “I was doing just that. But oh, it’s such a long story! Do you remember the first night Her Grace was here, and how she flirted so shamelessly with Lord Lyon, who did not look at all comfortable with her attention?”

  Ailsa swallowed a sigh. “I vaguely remember that, aye.”

  “It’s ‘yes,’ dear—not ‘aye.’ Natasha was shameless! And my dear Daffyd—I mean, Lord Hamilton—noticed her affections were not returned. It was quite pathetic and just got worse as the weeks wore on, and then, of course, poor Natasha grew quite ill-tempered about the whole thing.”

  “I noticed that. We all noticed that.”

  “Yes, well, eventually, Hamilton took pity upon her and at my direction, plied her with attention. I thought to ease her spirits, but had I known then what I know now, I would never have been so charitable.”

  “Hamilton pitied Her Grace? I’ve seen them together quite a bit these last few weeks, and he never looked in the least as if he pitied her. In fact, they seem quite happy; he is forever laughing at what she says.”

  “She is laughable. All dressed in black and— Well, I don’t mean to criticize, but she looks a bit like an old crow.”

  Ailsa politely refrained from pointing out that Edana was similarly dressed, having decided to maintain her widow’s weeds after an admirer told her that black made her golden beauty seem ethereal. “Edana, you must admit, despite being difficult, Her Grace is an amusing woman.”

  “She can be, I suppose. If one likes that sort of humor.”

  “Apparently Lord Hamilton does. He sat by her at dinner last night, dinnae he?” Ailsa squinted at the ceiling, trying to remember all of the places she’d seen Lord Hamilton with Her Grace. “And at the picnic, and at the musicale, and at the—”

  “Yes, yes.” Edana’s lips thinned. “He went a bit beyond my request, but that’s because he knew it would give me some relief from her moods. He is a kind man, and while I wish I could return his affections, I simply cannot, and so I’ve told him again and again and—”

  “Edana, I know all aboot Lord Hamilton. He eats dinner here so many nights that he has his own bedchamber. But back to Her Grace. You were saying?”

  Edana sniffed. “It seemed to me, over the last few days that— Well, I began to wonder if Natasha wasn’t mistaking Hamilton’s kindness for something more. I feared she had begun to care for him.”

  “Did you mention this to Lord Hamilton?”

  “I had to warn him. He was much struck by my observations, and asked me several times why I thought such a thing.”

  “So you think in the space of the last two months that Her Grace has transferred her feelings for Lord Lyon to Lord Hamilton?”

  “A move that was bound to leave her open to heartbreak yet again. I know Daffyd, and the type of woman he admires is nothing like Natasha.” Edana gave a delicate laugh. “Besides, why would any man pay attention to a woman who doesn’t take care of herself? Natasha cannot be bothered with doing her hair to her benefit, or using the correct lotion on her face, or keeping out of the sun to prevent freckles and wrinkles, or wearing something that fits, just like you—” Edana suddenly stopped. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’m not criticizing you, but—well, you know my feelings on the subject.”

  “Aye, I know them quite well. When did you have this conversation with Lord Hamilton, telling him of your suspicions aboot Her Grace?”

  “ ‘About,’ dear—not—” Edana caught Ailsa’s expression and hurried to add, “I spoke to him yesterday afternoon, after luncheon. I thought it best to say something right away so he could let poor Natasha down gently.”

  “And you think that happened? That Lord Hamilton turned Her Grace away and that’s why she’s missing?”

  “What else can it be? She must be devastated—two men in a row rejecting her.” Edana threw up her hands, her kerchief fluttering. “I cannot even imagine!”

  “Hmmm.” Ailsa considered this, toying absently with one of the letters on her waiting pile. “What you say makes sense, but I wonder if . . .” She pursed her lips. “When you asked MacGill if any of the coaches and carriages were missing, did you inquire after Lord Hamilton’s coach and horses, or just our own?”

  “Just our own, of course. Why would I ask about—” Edana gasped. “Surely you cannot be suggesting that Daffyd and Natasha left together?”

  “It’s possible. Do we know where Lord Hamilton is? He stayed the night, for we played cards quite late.”

  “I haven’t seen him today—but then, he never rises before noon, so I’m sure he’s still in his bed. Besides, he would never do anything so foolish.”

  “Let’s find oot, shall we?” Ailsa turned in her seat and tugged the bell pull that hung behind her desk.


  “This is ridiculous. I’ve known Hamilton since we were both seventeen, and I’d know if he were interested in someone who—”

  A soft knock heralded the entry of the housekeeper, Mrs. Attnee, a plump, motherly woman. Her beaming smile dimmed on seeing the dowager countess. “Guid morning, my lady.” The housekeeper dipped a quick curtsy. “Lady Ailsa, you rang?”

  “I understand you assisted in the search for Her Grace.”

  Concern creased Mrs. Attnee’s forehead. “Aye. She is nae to be found. We searched the house top to bottom, even the cellars.”

  “Did you happen to see Lord Hamilton when you were searching the house top to bottom?”

  “Och, nae. Lord Hamilton left early this morning, almost at dawn.”

  “What?” Lady Edana blinked. “Are you certain?”

  “I saw him with me own eyes, I did. I’d just sent the char maids aboot their dooties when he came sneakin’ doon the stairs.”

  “Sneaking?” Ailsa asked.

  “I would nae call it other, fer he was bent o’er and walkin’ like this—” She hunched her shoulders and mimicked someone tiptoeing.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Edana announced, her neck a mottled red. “Lord Hamilton would never move in such a-a-a subversive fashion!”

  Ailsa ignored her. “Mrs. Attnee, did he say where was he going?”

  “Nae exactly. He just said he was waitin’ on his carriage. He sometimes leaves early fer his home, but he’s never walked so strangely.”

  “Did you see him leave for Caskill Manor?”

  “Nae. I offered to bring him some breakfast, but he refused and dinnae seem to wish fer company, so I left him waiting for his carriage. When I came back through the foyer a few minutes later, he was gone.”

  Ignoring the strange hissing sound coming from Edana, Ailsa said, “So you dinnae know if he left with someone else, then.”

  “Nae. I dinnae see anyone else aboot the house but his lordship, but I suppose someone could have joined him and—” The housekeeper pressed her hands to her chest. “Lord love ye, ye dinnae think he’s run off with Her Grace?”

  Edana made a strangled noise.