Daring Lords and Ladies

by Emily Murdoch

  “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 Eleven

  “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. Colin had been assigned overseer of all employees. Romance, it seemed, had been flitting about MacNaughton Textile. Lachlan was now married to the mystery woman, Fenella, though it had been a rocky start. The blonde Englishwoman had not been honest about her own background. But she had been as stubborn as a Scot, using feminine wiles and short bread to win back his heart.

  Colin was doggedly pursuing Fenella’s friend and companion, though they learned from Lachlan that the silly girl was resisting his marriage proposal. But the man was formidable when on a mission. It seemed to be a family trait.

  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.”

  Lissie made a ribbit sound and giggled again. “So the pond offered something for everyone. What a fitting name then. Yes, I would love to visit Lake Perfect.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon? If the sun is shining, I’ll have the groom hook up the sleigh. Mama, would the girls have left their sk
ates here?”

  “Of course. I’ll have a housemaid search for them in the morning. Ice skates are not a priority in a woman’s trousseau.” She waited while Gideon served them sections of white fish in a cream sauce. “I may even join you. The fresh air would do me good. Your father loved the pond in winter. It was the only activity that would tempt him out on a cold day.”

  “That’s right, he taught you how to skate.” Gideon and his sisters had been given wooden platforms with blades when they were old enough to stand without wobbling. “He always worried one of us would catch a chill. After an hour, hot bricks and spiced wine and cider would appear to warm us up. Then we’d set out once more.”

  “In Scotland if we let the cold keep us inside, we’d never leave the hearth.” Lissie took a bite of the fish and wiped her mouth. “Maeve, it must have been verra hard for ye to move here alone.”

  The older woman considered. “It was but love seems to help ye face whatever obstacles are in the way.”

  Gideon listened to the women compare differences in the households. He marveled at how his mother’s accent fluctuated, depending on the company. When they were alone, as now, she was Maeve from Scotland. When they entertained the neighbors, her speech was modulated and proper. A chameleon, to be sure, he thought with a smirk.

  After roasted potatoes and turnips with rosemary and a glazed goose with cranberry sauce, Lissie patted her stomach. “I swear I’ll look like Etta if I eat another bite. It was a wonderful meal.”

  Maeve beamed as she poured them a cup of the mead. The last tray arrived with a variety of sweet meats. “I’m glad ye enjoyed it. But ye must have one or two of these.”

  Gideon was not surprised when, a few minutes later, his mother yawned and made her excuses. He loved her for it but suddenly felt like a Johnny raw. “We will see you tomorrow, Mama. Alisabeth, a game of chess?”

  “I’d love to since ye’re a win ahead of me.”

  They settled into their usual chairs, Gideon taking his black pieces and Lissie arranging the white. She had brought a cup of warm mead with her, and he poured himself a second brandy. For courage. Why was he so blasted nervous? She reached for a pawn then paused, her teeth biting that full lower lip.

  “Alisabeth, I need to speak with you about something.” Did his voice quaver? Good God, man, get hold of yourself.

  “Yes, Gideon? It sounds serious.” She put the ivory piece down and gave him her full attention.

  The candlelight danced on the glossy pearls at her neck, lending a radiant effect to her skin. Those gilded eyes studied him, and his mouth went dry.

  “I believe we have grown close over the past months and forged a solid friendship. Would you agree?” She is merely a woman, his reason told him. Just come out with it!

  “Oh yes. You have been so kind and attentive. I’m verra…content here at Stanfeld Manor.” She lowered her gaze, the thick lashes creating a dark arc against her flushed cheeks. The firelight sent shadows across her exquisite face and highlighted the curve of her jaw.

  He stifled a moan. “I wish to take our relationship a step further. I would like to court you, if you would not be opposed.”

  He recognized the panic and it sobered him. Not because she may not care for him, which would be devastating, but he would not see her unhappy at any price. If his overtures caused any sort of upset, he would abandon his pursuit of her.

  “I am honored, my lord. But it’s not been a year since Ian died, and I worry what—”

  “Others might think?” He hadn’t thought her susceptible to society gossip, one of the traits he had come to love about her. His chest tightened. “We could keep the courtship private, if you prefer.”

  “Och, no. Why would I care what strangers think?” She placed her fingers in his hand. “I dinna want Ian’s memory clouded by anything I might do. But he was my best friend, and I fear he will always be a part of my heart.”

  Gideon sighed and sent up a silent prayer to his cousin. He was in love with Lissie and could not imagine any of his family begrudging them happiness. “Yet your relationship, if I understand correctly, was more affection than desire. You did not love him the way I love you.” He heard the intake of breath and knew he’d hit the mark. “I am willing to wait until you’re ready. But if you do not hold any tender feelings for me, I will never press you again.”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes. Regret? That she had never loved Ian in that way or that she would never love him in that way? He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “I apologize. I dinna usually cry.” She gave him a watery smile and dabbed at her eyes. “I’ve come to depend on you, share my thoughts with you, spend time with you. I almost wish everything could stay just as it is now.”

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. My feelings are much too strong to remain as we have been.” He took a deep breath then let it out in a rush. He held her gaze, wanting to wipe the tears from her eyes and kiss those quivering lips. “What I mean to say, my sweet Lissie, is that I need to move forward. You are constantly in my head, in my dreams. I must know there is a chance for us or find a way to deal with the emptiness of a life without you.” He squeezed her warm trembling fingers, reading the sadness in her eyes that now clouded his own heart.

  “May I have time to consider?” He nodded and she continued tremulously, “My emotions are a muddle right now. Ye must ken ye’re in my heart, but my mind says I’ve no right to be happy with ye. Yet it is yer kindness and…verra presence that have helped me begin to heal.”

  “The fact I’m in your heart is enough for now.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Take as long as you need. You know how I feel. I can only leave the matter in your hands.”

  He kissed her on the cheek and his lips lingered, breathing in her faint scent of lavender, not wanting to break the contact. It might be the last time he would be this close to her. A lump formed in his throat, and he cleared it noisily. “If my declaration has made you uncomfortable, I apologize. But I will never regret falling in love with you.”

  ***

  Alisabeth went to bed, her mind whirling. He loved her. Not cared for her, felt a kinship toward her, or was fond of her but loved her. She’d been attracted to him the first time their eyes met, but it had been the wedding when she realized it was more than physical attraction. She’d remembered the look in the couple’s eyes as they said their vows. She had never shared that kind of look with Ian, but that day she had shared it with Gideon. Since then, her conscience had battled against the desire. How could she experience the kind of passion Ian had been denied? What gave her the right to a bright future and such rhapsody? It would be disloyal to her dead husband and all he’d given up for her.

  Yet she longed to know Gideon’s touch, how it would feel to be held in his arms, to be kissed with passion and not just affection. Guilt knotted her stomach each time tender feelings for him rose in her chest. Lord Stanfeld was a good man and understood her. But they had led such different lives. Yet, Maeve had found happiness here in England. Ian, ye were always there to guide me. How I need yer common sense now.

  Lissie went to her wardrobe and searched along the dark bottom. She found the hand-carved box Ian had made for her fifteenth birthday. Lifting the lid, she took out the silk gloves and breathed in the scent of home as tears fell down her cheeks. She carefully laid them under her pillow, undressed, and went to bed. Perhaps an answer would come to her in sleep. As slumber evaded her, a haunting melody wafted through her brain. The same faerie-like humming she’d heard before. The same peace that it had brought then comforted her now, and her lids grew heavy.

  She awoke refreshed, anticipating the day. Gideon was not at breakfast. Lissie was both disappointed and relieved.

  “Gideon said he had arrangements to make for later.” Maeve studied her. “Ye look well, lass. Did ye sleep soundly?”

  She nodded. “Like a babe with a bit of whiskey on its gums.”

  “Anything ye’d like to talk
about?”

  Alisabeth had the sense Maeve knew about Gideon’s request. The need for a confidante overrode her embarrassment. “Oh Maeve, I dinna ken what to do. Gideon professed his love for me but I’m afraid…”

  “Afraid? Of happiness?”

  Lissie hesitated then nodded. “Ian and I loved each other but we were not in love. The emotions Gideon stirs in me—I never experienced with Ian.”

  “Do you think you deserve to be happy?” Maeve left her chair and sat next to her. “What would Ian want you to do?”

  She shook her head. “Why should fate allow me to find the kind of passion I didna allow him to have? It wouldna be fair, ye see.”

  “Life is often unfair.” Maeve placed a hand on Lissie’s cheek. “I’ve come to know ye, lass, and I knew my nephew. He made his own choices and he chose you. Nothing would give him more pain than to see ye miserable.”

  She sniffed. “I ken that, I do, but I also canna help but wonder if I let him down…”

  “What ifs will never help ye find answers, my sweet.” Maeve smiled sadly. “I’ll ask ye what my ma asked me when Charles proposed, and I was reluctant to leave my home. Can ye imagine yer life without him? It’s really as simple as that.”

  Alisabeth pondered Maeve’s words as the maid helped her dress that afternoon.

  “Here, my lady. I have more petticoats for you.” The girl handed her another pair of stockings as well. “Lady Stanfeld said to make sure you are warm. She won’t have you taking a chill.”

  “I’m not sure how I will be able to move with all these layers. I already have two petticoats, stockings and wool socks.” She laughed as she struggled into another petticoat and donned her chemise.

  “Those were flannel, this one is lighter and will fit over the others easy enough. Frozen limbs don’t move so good neither, my lady.”

  “I shall be sweating like a day in July.”