by Diane Gaston
‘Niven will love that,’ she said.
That worked a bit better.
He turned to an older woman seated on his other side and conversed with her while the gentleman on Mairi’s other side spoke to her.
When Hargreave turned back to Mairi, he remarked, ‘Will your brother have a Grand Tour this year?’
‘Not this year,’ she replied.
He nodded. If her brother was planning a Grand Tour, Hargreave would be less certain of the family’s financial problems.
‘I believe William Crawfurd is getting ready to go abroad. I thought the two of them might have travelled together.’
See what she says about that.
‘That would have been nice for them.’ She took a bite of her food.
She was not very forthcoming, but he would not be deterred. He had the entire duration of the house party to make her warm to him.
He took a sip of his wine.
Chapter Fifteen
When the hosts and guests were at dinner, the kitchen also served a meal to the guests’ servants. Lucas sat at the table with the other valets and lady’s maids. There were about thirty of them, more valets than lady’s maids. More men than women guests, he surmised. Several of them knew each other already, perhaps from other years, other house parties. No one knew Lucas, of course.
He tried not to call attention to himself, but the valet who’d virtually ignored him earlier while they’d been brushing out coats suddenly found a voice. He pointed to Lucas. ‘He’s a Sassenach, ye ken.’
‘English?’ one of the maids said. ‘What in heaven’s name brought you to Scotland?’
‘I needed employment,’ he said.
Another maid laughed. ‘That’s why we all are here.’
‘Ye dinna wear livery,’ one of the men said.
The once-silent valet spoke before Lucas could respond. ‘He’s the butler. Filling in for the Baron’s valet.’
‘The Baron who?’ someone asked.
‘The Baron of Dunburn,’ he responded.
The once-silent valet spoke again. ‘Dunburn is a right dobber.’
‘Dobber?’ Lucas asked.
The maids tittered.
‘An...idiot,’ one fellow said.
‘And your employer is Mr Hargreave, I understand.’ Lucas directed his gaze at the once-silent valet.
‘Aye. Mr Hargreave,’ the man said. ‘He is the son of the Earl of Barring, in case you did not know it.’
‘Son of an earl,’ Lucas responded. ‘Quite impressive.’ For the first time since his arrival in Scotland he wished he could own to his true identity.
‘Mr Hargreave visited Dunburn House recently,’ the man said.
‘Yes,’ Lucas replied. ‘I remember him.’ He was disinclined to say much at all to this fellow.
Another one of the men said, ‘You were in the army, I heard. With that coachman.’ He meant Findlay. That information had spread swiftly.
‘I was.’ This change of subject was no better received by Lucas, though.
Lucas was compelled to tell them where he had served. In Portugal. At Waterloo. But the conversation quickly veered to those in the room who had relatives who’d fought in the war or whose lives had been lost.
* * *
Lucas excused himself as soon as he could do so without offence, but instead of returning to the confines of Dunburn’s room, he walked outside. The air was chilly with a fine mist of rain. He quickened his pace to the stables, quite a distance from the house. The sun had set and, with the rain, the sky was starless. Not the best time to go looking for Findlay. He spied the lights of the stables and, turning up the collar of his coat, headed towards them.
Once he got close he could hear voices. Chances were their hall was above the stables where their rooms also likely were. He entered a door that opened to a stairway and, even though it was closed off from the stable, the familiar scent of horses filled his nostrils. He climbed the stairs and found the hall.
Several men turned when he reached the doorway.
‘I am looking for Findlay,’ he said loudly enough to be heard over the din.
‘Guests’ coachmen are in the next building,’ a fellow growled.
Lucas walked to the next building and found another hall filled with men talking, drinking, gambling.
‘Is Findlay here?’ he called.
‘Yes! I am here!’ Findlay stood and walked towards him. When he reached Lucas he said, ‘Now you will tell me the whole?’
‘If you like.’
Findlay gestured for him to follow. ‘Come with me. I want to check on our horses.’
There was another stairway leading directly into the stables.
‘Wait until you see these horses, sir,’ Findlay said as they passed the stalls of several horses, all matched teams. He stopped in front of stalls holding matched bays. ‘Magnificent, eh?’
The horses were large and muscular with silky hair on their lower limbs. ‘They look grand,’ Lucas said, stroking one on its neck.
Findlay sat on a nearby stool. ‘So tell me now. And tell me why you’d come looking for me tonight.’
Lucas did not need to say much about the effect of his brother’s death. Findlay had been there, had seen him through it. He told Findlay how he could not bear taking his brother’s place, how he’d numbed himself with whisky, how he and his parents had argued. He’d impulsively packed a satchel, written his parents a letter and left.
‘But why come all this way? To Scotland?’ Findlay asked.
Could he explain? It seemed impossible. ‘It was far away. Whisky was easy to obtain. I had no destination. Just travelled from inn to inn.’
Findlay grinned. ‘And you wound up a butler?’
‘Precisely.’ Lucas told him all about being ill, being rescued and feeling at first obligated to help the family, later feeling they needed him. He did not tell him about Mairi, how she needed someone to help her. He did not tell him that caring about her, helping her, pulled him out of his dismal mood. Every time he helped her and her family, he felt a little more healed.
‘So, what now?’ Findlay asked. ‘Are you remaining a butler for ever?’
Lucas shook his head. ‘I must leave them after this farce is over. And then, I am not certain.’ He pushed away from the door to the horse’s stall. ‘I must decide soon, though.’
‘Seems to me you should go back to your home. Make up with your parents,’ Findlay said.
Lucas did not want to hear that.
He leaned against the wall. ‘There is another matter. A Mr Hargreave, son of a Scottish earl and one of the guests here, may be planning to court the eldest Wallace daughter. He was a visitor at Dunburn House and something about him concerns me. I cannot like this fellow. I need to know more, if I am to warn her about him.’
‘Warn her?’ Findlay gave him a sceptical look. ‘You really have involved yourself with this family, haven’t you?’
‘I owe them my life. Miss Wallace especially.’ In a way he owed Findlay his life, too. The batman had kept him from destruction that horrid day.
Findlay rubbed his neck. ‘Well, I’ll keep my ears open. This lot has a great deal to say about their employers. It takes nothing to get them talking.’
‘Hargreave came with Lord and Lady Crawfurd. Their people might know something.’ Lucas pushed away from the wall. ‘I had better get back to the house.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘I have my duties, you know.’
The two men bid each other goodnight and Lucas left the stable. The misty rain had stopped, but the air still felt damp and cold. He quickened his step and headed back to the house, where the lights of many candles and lamps shone through almost every window.
He entered the house through the servants’ entrance and walked through the corridor towards the servants’ stairs that would take him up to the
hallway where Dunburn’s room was. When he passed the hall, Hargreave’s valet stepped in front of him.
‘Where were you?’ the man asked in his hostile tone.
Lucas straightened and glared at the man like he might at a recalcitrant soldier. ‘Explain yourself, man.’
The valet blinked in surprise. ‘What?’
‘Why do you need to know my whereabouts?’
The man baulked at responding.
‘Well?’ demanded Lucas.
He still did not speak.
‘Why this hostility?’ pressed Lucas. He’d nip this in the bud now.
The valet seemed to gain some courage. ‘I do not like Englishmen.’
‘That is your sole objection?’ Lucas lifted a brow.
‘Yes.’ He tried to look Lucas in the eye, but could not quite meet his steely glare.
Lucas had seen his like before, needing to display a bravado precisely because they felt cowardly inside. Or felt smaller. Lucas knew he was no better than this man who had to make his way in the world by serving the intimate needs of a man such as Hargreave. He actually felt some compassion for the valet.
Lucas spoke in a milder tone. ‘I understand that you Scots have reasons to dislike Englishmen. I will try to stay out of your way.’
Lucas might just as easily have intimidated the man with his officer’s demeanour. He could have reminded the man he was larger, stronger and accustomed to battle, but this Scottish valet was neither his enemy nor a soldier under his charge. He was just a man trying to get through life the best he could. Like Lucas himself.
Lucas nodded cordially, and the valet, looking surprised and confused, stepped to the side to let Lucas pass. He climbed the stairs and entered the hallway on which was Dunburn’s room.
Coming in the other direction, towards her own room, was Mairi, her pale pink dress swirling around her legs as she walked. Should she not be with the other guests after dinner?
‘Miss Wallace?’
She lifted her chin as if he had challenged her. ‘I developed the headache.’
He could not help but smile. ‘Was it that dreadful?’ He’d attended many a country house dinner. He knew how wearying it could be, merely sitting and making conversation, especially with people in whose company you did not wish to be.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Mr Hargreave seemed unable to leave my side.’
He wished—
But he had no right to wish. Not now he was so tangled in the family’s affairs and his own half-truths.
She directed her gaze at him again. ‘At least you have tasks to perform. I must be idle.’
He could list her a dozen tasks she would be grateful not to have. Emptying chamber pots, for one. ‘Surely something is planned to entertain you. Is there nothing tonight?’
‘The ladies are playing the piano and singing, but I did not wish to participate. Not with Hargreave insisting upon turning the pages for me.’
‘What do you make of his persistent attention?’ Lucas asked.
She blew out a breath. ‘Mama thinks he will make me an offer, but I believe that is absurd.’
‘Why?’ To think of her married to Hargreave was intolerable.
‘I cannot imagine that there is a penny left for my dowry and Mr Hargreave is not a man to marry without furthering his own interests.’
‘Some men, if wealthy enough in their own right, do not care about such things.’ Lucas could not imagine marrying for money—although he’d never had to entertain the prospect.
‘Mama and Lady Crawfurd seem to believe he is wealthy enough, but I do not want to marry.’
She didn’t want to marry?
He was about to ask her why, but she threw up her hands. ‘I’ve done nothing to encourage the man. I do not understand why he seeks my company.’
His eyes swept over her. ‘Do you not? You are quite lovely, you know.’
Her gaze flew to his face. ‘Lucas?’
He took a step back. ‘Forgive me. I should not have said that.’
‘Why did you say it?’ she challenged.
He could not help himself. He leaned closer to her again. ‘Because it is true. Because I do not believe you know your worth.’
* * *
‘My worth?’ Mairi rasped.
She alone knew that she no longer had worth. The man she’d happened upon on that walk to the village five years ago had stolen whatever was of value about herself, leaving her with nothing.
Lucas looked puzzled. ‘Do you not believe me? That you are courageous, intelligent, beautiful, loyal to your family, no matter how they treat you—’
‘Stop.’ She pushed one hand against his chest and just as quickly realised she was touching him. Their gazes locked and she could not move.
He took her hand in his and held it against his heart.
‘You must not speak to me so.’ She did not deserve it.
His gaze was soft. ‘It is the truth.’
She drank in his words and his admiration as if she were dying of thirst. She was so in need of comfort. She wished he would put his arms around her and simply hold her.
So she would not feel so utterly alone.
Instead he released her hand and stepped back.
And she steeled herself. ‘No need to flatter me, Lucas, kind as it was for you to do so.’ His flattery at least sounded genuine; Hargreave’s always seemed calculated.
There was a clatter of feet on the stairwell and voices approached.
‘It is not fair!’ It was Davina.
Niven’s voice came next. ‘Fishing is a man’s sport. William and I will see you later in the day.’
Her brother and sister came into view.
When Davina saw Lucas she brightened. ‘Lucas! You will take my side, I am certain of it.’ She did not give him a chance to refute that statement. ‘William and Niven are going fishing tomorrow and they will not take me along with them.’
‘There are other activities for the ladies,’ Niven said. ‘Davina is supposed to do them with Lord Oxmont’s daughter. That’s the whole reason she was invited to the house party.’
‘And why were you invited?’ she countered, with hands on her hips.
He leaned right into her face. ‘Because William was invited.’
‘Well, Elspeth has no need of me tomorrow.’ She huffed. ‘So there is no reason I should not go fishing with you.’
‘It will be cold and it is rugged. Not at all a place for a girl,’ he protested.
‘Stuff!’ she cried. ‘You and I have gone fishing dozens of times at home. This is no different.’
‘Maybe we don’t want girls there,’ Niven said, perhaps finally getting to the truth of the matter. ‘Maybe we want a man’s activity of our own. The other men will be hunting stag and William and I were not invited. You don’t see us complaining, though. Not like you.’
‘I’m not complaining,’ Davina insisted. ‘I do not want to sit all day and do sewing or something. I want to be outside. I want to go fishing with you.’ She turned to Lucas. ‘Tell him, Lucas. Tell him he must take me along.’
Davina excelled at putting people on the spot to make them say or do things they did not want to do.
But apparently Lucas was made of sterner stuff. ‘Miss Davina.’ He kept his voice low and calm. ‘I am not in charge of you here. Not like in Edinburgh. You must discuss this with your mother and father.’
‘Mama will say I can go!’ Davina marched into her bedchamber and slammed the door.
William peeked around the corner. ‘Is she done yet?’
Niven strode over to him. ‘She is impossible! Such a child. Let us see if we can get food in the kitchen. I’m famished.’
When the two boys had left, Mairi looked up at Lucas. They both burst out laughing. And when they stopped, they still stared into each oth
er’s eyes.
‘Who won that skirmish?’ he asked softly.
‘Davina,’ said Mairi. ‘But it concerns me. She must not always think she is entitled to her own way.’
‘She is wilful,’ he agreed.
Mairi lifted her gaze and met his. Her body felt as if every nerve and muscle had come alive. She wished—
She wished Lucas were a guest instead of a servant, so she might spend her time with him. But even if Lucas were a gentleman or she was an ordinary young woman, would he not despise her for what happened to her?
The thought depressed her. ‘I should go to my room to see if I can reason with Davina.’
He reached up and touched her arm. ‘Yes. Goodnight, Mairi.’
His touch surprised her, but did not frighten her, which surprised her even more. It was so gentle, yet made her skin tingle and her pulse quicken. He leaned closer, so close his breath brushed her face and the heat of his body warmed her.
Before her assault she used to dream of being kissed by a man. Afterwards, she had not even wanted to be touched, but now, suddenly, Lucas’s touch thrilled her. And it seemed as if her lips yearned to taste his. He moved even closer and she rose on tiptoe.
Abruptly he stepped away, leaving her baffled and filled with desire and disappointment. His face was stony. Unreadable. He must feel a kiss between them to be very wrong, yet she yearned to tell him she did not care if their stations in life were unequal. She simply wanted to be held by him.
‘That was not well done of me,’ he said. ‘I must leave you.’
He turned and strode away.
‘Goodnight, Lucas,’ she whispered and retreated to the room she shared with Davina.
* * *
Lucas strode back to the servants’ stairway, but merely waited there until he was certain Mairi had entered her room.
What the devil? He’d just about kissed her. He still wanted to kiss her.
There was no reason not to kiss her, though, was there? He was a gentleman, son of an English earl, heir to that earldom. All he need do was tell her. Admit who he was.
