The Highlander's Yuletide Love
Page 5
“She’s a beautiful and charming woman, though, as with Douglas, I remember when she was a mere slip of thing. It hardly seems possible that she has grown up. Harriet has raised her well.” Francis’s eyes narrowed. “What is your interest in her?”
“I have none,” said Ranulf calmly. “I think I mentioned to you the other day that girls her age hold little appeal for me. I was surprised to hear that she fancies herself an artist.”
“Yes, she can be found painting every chance she gets,” said Francis. “Her father would like to see her married, but she will have none of the London gentlemen. She has convinced her parents to allow her to pursue her craft, at least for now.”
“A fortunate girl, to be able to follow her passion,” murmured Ranulf.
“She’s not like most of the flirtatious chits one encounters during the Season in London, you know,” said Francis. “Perhaps you will grow as fond of her as Isobel and I are.”
“Fond? I have no intention of becoming fond of any young women. Not to mention that Lady Sophia clearly regards me with distaste.”
“Yes, I wondered about that,” said Francis. “I don’t understand it. You’ve spoken to her only a handful of times.”
“Oh, young women are inexplicable. It will do us no good to ponder the workings of her mind, as, in the end, it will turn out that she does not care for the color of my coat or that I remind her of her dancing master, whom she held in abhorrence.”
A reluctant laugh was wrung from Francis. “Sophy is not like that,” he protested.
“Don’t be ridiculous. They are all the same, even Lady Sophia.”
“So I thought once,” said Francis. “Then I met Isobel.”
Ranulf smile at him indulgently. “Your judgment is suspect my friend, as you deem yourself to be in love. However, I will allow Lady Exencour to be a fabulous rebuke to my statements. Lady Sophia, I think, is not.”
“Someday Ranulf, I’ll see you humbled by a woman,” said Francis.
“Will you?” asked his friend imperturbably. “Be sure to call my attention to it when it happens.”
When the Exencours and Colonel Stirling were ushered into Lady Glencairn’s drawing room a few days later, Isobel looked very fetching in shimmering sea green silk that clung slightly to her figure. Its bodice sported an elegant passementerie made of pale copper colored gauze, and four rows of the same fabric trimmed the hem. The puff sleeves had lace insets, and her maid had wound copper ribbon through her curls, along with two small, pale green plumes. The two gentlemen accompanying her were no less elegant, if slightly more sober, in their black evening clothes.
Isobel greeted Harriet with a hug. “Thank you for inviting us. I can think of no more delightful way to spend the evening than with your family.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Harriet smiled upon Francis and Ranulf before turning to her husband. “Glencairn, may I present Colonel Stirling?”
Ranulf stepped forward to shake the earl’s hand. “It is an honor to meet you, sir. My friend Exencour has told me much about you. I understand you were with the Royal Scots Greys in the Flanders campaign.”
Glencairn, who had been fixing Ranulf with a suspicious glare, unbent amazingly at these words. “I was indeed. It was an honor to serve, though little enough came of it.”
“Never say so,” said Ranulf. “It was an early salvo in the war we just concluded. I’m sure you know the Greys acquitted themselves admirably at Waterloo.”
Glencairn glowed with pleasure. “Harumph. Yes, Sergeant Ewart captured the eagle of the 45th Regiment of the Line. I wish I might have been there.”
“Oh, you must not mention such a thing,” twittered Harriet. “I can barely stomach the thought of dear Exencour and Colonel Stirling serving at such a dreadful battle; the notion of you there must terrify me.”
Glencairn patted her hand. “You need have no fears, my dear; I am far too old for such things. I would be glad to hear the colonel’s stories, however.”
“I have no doubt you have tales of your own to tell,” said Ranulf. “Perhaps later, when the ladies are not present.”
Glencairn nodded his agreement, and then turned to Douglas, who appeared almost ready to burst with excitement.
“My son, Viscount Kincraig,” he said. “He is full of admiration for you; if he becomes tiresome, do not hesitate to tell him so.”
Douglas flushed, but stepped forward to shake Ranulf’s hand. “It is an honor to meet you, sir!”
“Likewise.” Ranulf smiled at the young man. “But I would not place too much reliance on the stories that you’ve heard. They grow in the telling, I fear.”
“I’ve heard that you once jumped your horse over three guns!” Douglas exclaimed.
“That one is true,” admitted Ranulf. “But it was a wager laid when we were drawing up for Vittoria, and was certainly not of use in the heat of battle, nor now, when I must manage my father’s estates. These things are entertaining, but they do not make the man.”
“Very true,” said Glencairn approvingly.
“Of course,” continued Ranulf, “there is nothing wrong with amusement. If you like, I will take you for a drive tomorrow and show you how to use the whip take a fly off the leader’s ear.”
“Would you?” Douglas’s eyes lit with excitement.
“Certainly, if your father does not object.” Ranulf glanced at the earl.
“It cannot hurt to know how to handle the reins like a gentleman,” said Glencairn expansively. “Exencour assures me there is no better horseman than you, Colonel Stirling.”
“Thank you!” Douglas gasped out, otherwise bereft of words.
Isobel, who had been watching this exchange with approval, looked around the room and saw Sophy sitting apart from the group on a silk-covered chair. With a little smile, she went over and sat down next to her.
“You look very elegant tonight, my dear,” she said, indicating Sophy’s dress of sapphire blue silk.
Sophy shrugged. “It is not as though it matters. There is no one here I wish to impress, after all.”
Isobel laughed. “Should I be insulted by that?”
Sophy gave a reluctant chuckle. “You know what I mean. There is only Mama and Papa and you and Francis, and of course I care not at all what Douglas thinks of my appearance!”
“I have no doubt he will find some way to insult you,” Isobel agreed. “But you do have a guest.”
“Colonel Stirling’s opinion matters to me not at all. Besides, with everyone else in the room so busy admiring him, I doubt he will have the time or inclination to note what I am wearing.”
“I feel sure he will have an opinion, whether he expresses it or not. He’s known to have excellent taste.”
Sophy sighed. “Of course he is. Just as he is a nonpareil in all things equine, a master of the social niceties, and an adept at every sport, he must also be an arbiter of fashion!”
“Hardly an arbiter, child. Just a gentleman with a sense of what is truly elegant.”
“I wish you would not call me child,” said Sophy, a shade pettishly.
“I suppose I should not,” agreed Isobel. “It is a habit I have fallen into, but you are far from a child now.”
“Precisely. Why, you are barely ten years older than I!”
Isobel gave her a shrewd look. “I’d not be in a hurry to leave my youth behind me, Sophy.”
“I am not, truly. I simply wish people would realize that I am an intelligent woman, with thoughts and emotions deserving of respect.”
“Of course we all respect you and your wishes. Why else would your mother and father allow you to turn your back on all your suitors?”
Sophy bit her lip. “They are humoring me. I know they think I will grow weary of painting and pine for the gaiety of London.”
“Not at all,” countered Isobel. “Harriet is sad you do not wish to marry, of course, but she believes allowing you to do what you wish is the best course. Better a happy artist than a miserable wife.”
“Why, I do believe that I am,” said Isobel comfortably. “But that doesn’t mean life is entirely idyllic, you know. Francis can be as difficult as any man, and I am far from the perfect wife. I allow my temper to get the better of me far too often, and Francis—well, I could tell you stories, but it would not be kind of me.”
“Truly? Mama and Papa never fight.”
Isobel laughed at that. “Perhaps you do not see them do so. But Harriet has told me a thing or two.”
Sophy turned an astounded face to her friend. “What did she say?”
“I cannot tell tales out of school, Sophy. Harriet would have my head. But suffice it to say that no marriage is entirely placid; no good one, at any rate! There is more to a marriage than billing and cooing, you know---though that part of it is very enjoyable, I must admit.”
Sophy digested this piece of wisdom and opened her mouth to respond, but Isobel looked over her shoulder and nodded her head. “Here is Colonel Stirling come to greet you,” she said.
Sophy blinked and looked up, and saw that Ranulf was approaching, a cool smile on his face, his eyes dispassionate under their heavy lids.
“Good evening, Lady Sophia,” he said, bowing politely.
“Colonel Stirling,” she replied coolly.
“We were just having a chat,” said Isobel, standing up and twitching the skirts of her dress into order. “But now I must talk to Harriet about Catherine. She is teething, you know, and I hope Harriet will have some helpful advice after what she endured with little Euan. I will speak to you later, Sophy.” With a warm smile at Ranulf, she basely deserted them.
Ranulf watched her retreat, and then seated himself next to Sophy. There was a brief silence as neither of them spoke.
“Tell me, Lady Sophia, why do you dislike me?” he startled her by saying.
“I—I don’t dislike you,” she said hesitantly.
“Then tell me why you disapprove of me.”
She looked up to see if he was mocking her, but saw only a look of lazy disinterest on his face.
“It cannot matter to you how I feel,” she said. She gestured around the room. “You hardly lack for friends.”
“Yet it does concern me,” he replied. “If I have offended you in some way, I would like to apologize.”
“You have not offended me,” said Sophy shortly.
He looked amused. “Then why do you take pains to be so cold to me?”
“I am not cold. I am very polite,” she pointed out.
“Elaborately so.”
Sophy gestured impatiently. “I cannot fathom why you would care what a young, unsophisticated female thinks of you.”
“We are talking in circles,” he said with a gentle smile. “Come, Lady Sophia, I would like to begin again. May we call a truce?”
Sophy looked at him, a tart retort on her lips. The gently amused look on his face annoyed her, but she thought she saw something more serious at the back of his brown eyes as well. It occurred to her also that, in the face of such a polite request, any refusal would only sound petulant.
“Certainly, Colonel Stirling,” she said, a bit reluctantly.
“Thank you. Then we shall begin again. As there is no one here to re-introduce us, I will have to be a bit bold. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sophia. I am Colonel Stirling.”
He said this with such exaggerated politeness that she spontaneously broke into a warm smile. “I’m happy to make your acquaintance, Colonel Stirling.”
“May I compliment you on your gown? That shade of blue is very becoming to you.”
“Thank you, Colonel Stirling.”
“I understand from my friend, Exencour, that you are an accomplished painter,” he continued.
Sophy hesitated. “I do like to paint, but I am not sure I am accomplished,” she said earnestly. “My teachers say I am talented, but my parents pay them, you know, and my parents and friends love me too much to say otherwise.”
Ranulf paused for moment, regarding her seriously. “There is nothing wrong with being loved.”
“I know that, and I do not mean to sound ungrateful. It is just that, if I am not gifted enough to paint truly well, I should stop teasing my parents about it and do as they wish and marry.”
“Marry? Do you have someone in mind?”
“It is not as though I have had no offers, you know,” said Sophy confidingly. “But I have not wished to marry any of them.”
“I see,” said Ranulf gravely. “Why not?”
“I—I did not care for them enough.” Sophy tilted her head, considering her words. “They were pleasant, but I had no interest in long conversations with them, and it mattered not to me if they came or went. I am used to Mama and Papa, you know, who are very fond of one another, and Francis and Isobel, who dote on each other’s every action.”
“Felicity in marriage is to be valued, I believe,” agreed Ranulf. “But if you find you cannot paint as you wish to, will you then marry one of these gentlemen to please your parents?”
“Now you are teasing me,” said Sophy with a touch of dignity. “My parents would never force me into a marriage I did not choose. But if I cannot paint—if it is to be a mere amusement, and not a vocation—then I suppose it would not matter much.”
Ranulf raised his eyebrows. “You are very serious for such a young woman. Most girls your age would be only too happy to have so many suitors, and to be freed from such things as working at their painting.”
“I am not a young woman,” Sophy protested. “This is the second time this hour I have had to point out to someone that I am one-and-twenty.”
Ranulf laughed, but the sound was gentle. “A veritable aged hag, to be sure,” he answered. “No, don’t become angry with me again,” he continued, when a look of annoyance crossed Sophy’s face. “I do not mean to insult you. I only wish you to cherish your youth, and enjoy it.”
“You speak as though you are ancient! You cannot be more than five-and-thirty,” protested Sophy.
“That does not seem old you?”
Sophy wrinkled her nose. “Well, a little, perhaps. But one would not guess it, to look at you.”
“I thank you, Lady Sophia, for your kindness.”
Sophy looked flustered. “I did not intend to be rude, I only meant—”
“Do not continue—an explanation would only complicate the issue. I will take it as a compliment.”
“That was how I meant it,” said Sophy candidly. “After all, Exencour is the same age, and we are all very fond of him. And my father—”
“I don’t think we need to compare me to your father,” said Ranulf.
Sophy flushed, and then gave a gurgle of laughter at the look of comical terror on his face. “I fear that you may regret beginning our acquaintance anew, Colonel Stirling.”
“Not at all, Lady Sophia. I am getting much pleasure out of it, to be sure.”
Sophy glanced up and met his eyes. She opened her mouth to answer, but Harriet swept down upon them.
“You must not monopolize Colonel Stirling, Sophy,” she said. “Though, indeed, I promised him that he would see your work! Shall we go up to your workroom so that he may view it?”
Sophy turned stricken eyes on the colonel. He smiled back at her.
“Thank you, Lady Glencairn,” he said, standing. “But I fear I am not knowledgeable enough to offer an opinion. I would be better off taking tutelage in the merits of various artists from Lady Sophia! Instead of subjecting her to my incoherent opinions, perhaps it would be best if I returned to my discussion of horseflesh with Kincraig. In that area I can be sure of my expertise.”
Harriet looked disappointed, but Douglas stepped forward, only too eager to oblige the colonel. Ranulf paused a moment, and turned to Sophy.
“Perhaps some time in the future you will wish to show me your paintings, Lady Sophia,” he murmured. “
If that were to happen, I would be delighted.”
“It is not that I do not want you to --” she began, but he shook his head.
“You do not need to explain. I understand what it is to value something highly, and to share it when one wishes to, not when others demand it.”
“Thank you,” breathed Sophy.
“Not at all.” Ranulf bowed politely and moved away, bearing Kincraig with him.
“What a pity that he did not wish to see your paintings,” said Harriet. “No doubt to you that is another black mark in his book.”
“On the contrary,” Sophy surprised her by saying. “I am finding that Colonel Stirling improves with acquaintance.”
Dearest Philippa,
We depart next week for Glencairn, and I must say I will be very happy to leave London behind us. It is growing warm, and the noise and dirt are beginning to wear on me. Company grows thin, and there is little reason for us to be here now, as Sophy continues to show no interest in her suitors. I half hoped that Lord Osterley, who has been showing her some very flattering attentions these past two weeks, might appeal to her, but she says that he leaves her unmoved. I think it a great pity, but she cannot be budged.
I begin to believe the only thing I will miss in London is Colonel Stirling! He has become a great favorite in our household, and has been very kind to Douglas, taking him driving in the Park and teaching him any number of things involving horses and driving that I am afraid I do not understand! But the boy is in transports of delight, and therefore I am happy as well. Glencairn is less effusive in his praise of the colonel, of course, but they have forged quite a friendship. G. told me only yesterday that Colonel Stirling is a decent fellow, and you can be sure that is high praise indeed from my husband! But you must not think that he does not know how to conduct himself in a drawing room; indeed, he has been very polite to me and even arranged for himself, the Exencours and our little family to drive out to Richmond for a picnic! It was a delightful day, and he would not be thanked, saying only that it was a very small repayment for the kindness we had showed him. Such a pretty turn of phrase, you must admit.
You will notice that I do not mention Sophy. At first she had a great abhorrence of the colonel, but it seems now that she likes him a bit better. Still, she is very quiet when he is visiting, and, though I see them speak from time to time, she has little to say about him. I think it very odd, for a kinder, more handsome gentleman I have never met, but then Sophy can be a bit, dare I say it, bullheaded at times. Still, they are no longer at loggerheads, which is a very good thing, as I consider him quite one of the family. I shall miss him a great deal, though he is a Scotsman, so perhaps we will have the opportunity to see him again soon.