“Goodness me,” Walter said in a quiet but firm voice. “We’re keeping the ladies standing out here in all this wind. Please introduce us, Alasdair, and then let’s go inside.”
Alec throttled back his irritation. “Of course, sir. I am indeed forgetting my manners.”
“You never had any in the first place,” Fergus muttered.
Walter shot Fergus a warning look and stepped forward, smiling warmly at Lady Reese. Alec’s father had a truly kind demeanor, and his openhearted welcome soon charmed her ladyship down from the boughs. Walter was equally warm in greeting Edie, and Alec finally began to relax. If they could get everyone inside and up to their respective rooms, they just might pull off introductions without the family skeletons exploding out of the closet.
“Lady Reese, Miss Whitney, I’d like to introduce you to one of the most important people here at Blairgal,” Walter said. “This is Mr. Fergus Haddon, Alasdair’s cousin. I’m sure we’d be in a very bad spot without Fergus.”
Edie dipped into a quick curtsey, giving Fergus a dazzling smile. Only a block of ice would be able to resist that smile, and Alec prayed it would exert its charm on his scowling cousin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Haddon. I’ve heard so many good things about you from Captain Gilbride.”
Fergus let out a derisive snort, not bothering to bow in return or make any overture. When Edie’s smile faltered, Alec was hard-pressed not to take his mutton-headed cousin and stand him on his head for acting like such an ill-mannered lout.
“Now, lad,” said Alec’s grandfather in a coaxing voice. “Don’t be shy. They may look like grand city folk, but Lady Reese and her bonny daughter are certainly no better than our fine Scottish ladies.”
“Well, I don’t know quite what to say to that,” huffed Lady Reese.
“It’s fine, Mamma, really,” Edie said, her voice quivering as if she were repressing laughter.
Fergus glared at Edie but couldn’t disobey a direct order from his uncle. He gave a short, choppy bow in the general direction of the ladies. “Welcome to Blairgal,” he rapped out in an inhospitable voice.
“Thank you, Mr. Haddon,” Edie said sweetly. “We so appreciate your warm welcome.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Fergus said to no one in particular, “I have work to do.” He spun hard enough to kick up gravel from the drive and marched up the stairs into the house. One or two of the younger maids tittered, but the scowl Alec’s grandfather directed their way instantly shut them up.
“What a rude young man,” Lady Reese said. “I hardly know where to look.”
“It wasn’t that bad, Mamma,” Edie said, patting her mother’s arm. “Well, actually it was, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Alec said, finally prying his clenched jaws apart. “But I apologize on my cousin’s behalf, Lady Reese. Clearly, my return home has overset him.”
“And can you blame the lad?” barked Alec’s grandfather. “He feels for his poor sister. God knows the lass has been slighted enough as it is.”
So much for keeping the family skeletons locked out of sight.
“I understand, Grandfather, and I know how fond you are of Fergus,” Alec said. “But I hardly think we need engage in private family matters in front of our guests and the servants.”
The old man let out a bitter laugh. “Laddie, there isn’t a man, woman, or child in this county who doesn’t know exactly what you did to Donella Haddon. And what’s owed to her, now that you’re home,” he added pointedly.
On that trenchant note, the old man thumped his way back to the house, his cane digging into the gravel and sending up sprays of dust. When he reached the top of the stairs, he turned to glare at the servants, all standing stone-faced in rigidly correct lines. “Stop your standing around like a pack of idiots and get back to work,” he rapped out. “The Master of Riddick has returned home. There’s nothing more to see.”
The butler sprang to open the door, and Alec’s grandfather disappeared into the house.
“Well, that went splendidly,” said Edie.
“I have a headache,” Lady Reese announced in a loud voice.
“My dear Lady Reese,” Walter said regretfully. “I beg you to forgive his lordship. He suffers terribly from arthritis and spasms of the heart, which can make him rather ill-tempered at times. But let’s get you out of this nasty wind, shall we? No wonder you have a headache.”
Walter steered her into the house, murmuring a soothing flow of promises of tea, hot compresses, and a nice rest before dinner.
Edie studied Alec with an expression he couldn’t decipher, apparently waiting to see what he would do next. He shrugged. “Welcome to the Highlands, Miss Whitney.”
She rolled her eyes and took his arm to go in.
Chapter Eleven
Edie hurried down the gallery, resisting the urge to inspect the portraits lining one side of the hall. Some depicted Highland lords and ladies dressed in the colorful garb of the last century, while older paintings displayed kilted warriors in odd bonnets and auburn-haired ladies who looked almost as fierce as the men.
There was no portrait of Alasdair Gilbride. Perhaps he’d been too young to sit for one, or there had been a picture and his grandfather had taken it down. If the little welcoming scene this afternoon was any indication, the Earl of Riddick had yet to fully forgive his grandson for running away.
Then there was cousin Fergus Haddon, whose attitude had been downright hostile. Edie had been trying to charm Lord Riddick out of the grumps—and succeeding fairly well, she thought—so she hadn’t caught more than a few phrases of conversation between Alasdair and his cousin. But it soon became clear that Fergus was less than thrilled with the pair of them. She hadn’t yet ascertained whether his objections ran to Englishwomen in general or to Edie and her mother in particular. Whichever the case, she needed to prevent open warfare with an important member of the family. Mamma wouldn’t put up with further insult and would eventually cause a scene, while Lord Riddick would surely side with his nephew and throw the English interlopers out on their backsides.
Edie certainly didn’t need more scandal and bad blood. Though they were far removed from home, nasty tales of fireworks between the Earl of Riddick and Viscountess Reese would eventually find their way down to London. She and Mamma would be the butt of more jokes and more gossip, resulting in more damage to the family’s good name.
That was unacceptable. Edie had every intention of restoring her reputation, no matter how gruesome or boring the process. That meant a quiet winter in Scotland and the chance for the ton to forget she was anything but a model of rectitude and propriety. Then she could return to London and get back to her life, eventually finding a suitable husband.
The fact that she currently had no desire to find such a husband—at least one who wasn’t a brawny Scot with a tendency to call her lass in his gentler moments—was entirely beside the point.
She finally came to the end of the east wing, where Mamma was situated. Blairgal Castle was so big Edie practically needed a hackney coach to reach her mother’s bedroom. Although her own room was in one of the older parts of the castle, it was both comfortable and surprisingly modern with elegant furnishings of the finest quality. The chimney didn’t smoke, and the view was spectacular. The sun had been rapidly setting by the time Edie was shown up to her room, but there’d still been enough light to see rolling glens, dense woods, and several snow-capped peaks.
She’d gotten the distinct impression from the housekeeper that the master had asked for her to be placed in that magnificent room specifically because of that view. His thoughtfulness had truly touched her, although it also sounded a faint note of alarm in the back of her mind.
She tapped on her mother’s door and entered.
Mamma was seated at a dressing table, examining a selection of fans displayed by her ever-patient dresser. The room, larger than Edie’s, was luxuriously appointed in the Queen Anne style and well lit by candles an
d coal-port lamps. She couldn’t help thinking again that for an old pile of stones, as Alasdair had once referred to Blairgal, it was as comfortable and elegant as one could wish for. While the hallways were drafty and cold, it was a castle after all, and one did wish for a certain degree of authenticity.
Her mother glanced up, her frown smoothing into a smile. “Ah, there you are. I was hoping you wouldn’t get lost while trying to find me. In this house, one must traverse a ridiculous number of stairs and halls to go from one point to the next.”
“I’m just at the other end of the gallery, Mamma,” Edie said, inspecting the monumental canopy bed and the handsome tapestry that hung behind it. “If you stood outside your door and yelled at the top of your lungs, I would be bound to hear you.”
“I would never indulge in such vulgar behavior, my dear. If there was any yelling to be done, I would send Davis out to do it.”
Edie turned from the tapestry, a lurid depiction of a stag hunt, and stared at her mother. “Mamma, did you just make a joke?”
Her mother lifted her eyebrows. “You needn’t look so surprised, Eden. I have been known to do that on occasion, have I not, Davis?”
“Not that I can remember,” her dresser said. Davis was devoted to her mistress, but to say that she was a plainspoken woman was an understatement. Edie had always found the two of them rather hilarious together, almost always unintentionally.
Mamma waved a dismissive hand. “You’re from Yorkshire, Davis, an exceedingly humorless part of England. You wouldn’t recognize a jest if it leapt up and bit you.”
“Really, Mamma,” Edie said, trying not to laugh, “that’s too bad of you. Poor Davis won’t know what to think.”
“I’m not paid to think,” Davis replied. “Now, your ladyship, stop dilly-dallying and pick out a fan. You and Miss Eden are going to be late for dinner, since a body has to walk halfway to Glasgow to reach the dining room.”
“You’re both exaggerating,” Edie said.
“I never exaggerate, and neither does Davis,” her mother said. “Davis, you pick out a suitable fan for me. I’m simply too worn out by the tumult of our arrival to make any decisions for myself. Although I suspect no one will notice such niceties,” she added in a disapproving voice. “Despite the elegance of our surroundings, I was most disturbed by the rude behavior of both our host and his disagreeable nephew. I do not know how we’re going to survive the winter in such uncivilized company.”
Edie went to sit on a luxuriously plump velvet chaise in front of the fireplace. “I’ll grant you that Mr. Haddon seemed to fly up into the boughs for no good reason. As for the earl, he was simply a bit overcome by Captain Gilbride’s return home. After all, they haven’t seen each other in ten years.”
“Regardless, there was no reason to be so rude.”
Clearly, Mamma’s feathers were seriously ruffled, which meant it was up to Edie to smooth them down. “Well, Lord Riddick does suffer from arthritis and heart spasms, so I expect he wasn’t feeling very well.”
“I’m not surprised, given the Scottish climate and this drafty castle. Really, I don’t know why his lordship doesn’t reside most of the year in Glasgow or Edinburgh. Or at his town house in London, for that matter.”
“Come, Mamma, you just admitted how elegant everything is. Lord Riddick obviously takes splendid care of Blairgal and has a great deal of taste.”
“Well, someone does,” her mother admitted grudgingly. “Perhaps Captain Gilbride’s father is the civilizing influence. He seems a most genteel man.”
A spare, almost frail-looking man with a sweet face and gentle manner, it seemed impossible to Edie that he could be the father of a strapping man like the captain. Father and son looked nothing alike, so she had to suppose Gilbride took after his mother’s side of the family. He certainly had the commanding air of his grandfather, and the arrogance, too, although the younger man’s was tempered by his roguish charm.
“Mr. Gilbride seemed very taken with you, Mamma. I’m sure you’ll be great friends before the winter is over.”
“I suppose one must be grateful for that.”
Edie eyed the genuinely weary look on her mother’s face, one that seemed to age her ten years. An odd rush of anxiety made her breathing go tight and shallow. The Lady Reese she knew was indomitable, but the trip had clearly taken its toll on her. And the only reason her mother had been forced to take the exhausting trip was because of Edie’s stupid escapades.
She pushed against the sensation of guilt that threatened to choke her. “Mamma, you’re not to worry one bit. I’ll take care of Lord Riddick and his beastly nephew. I swear I’ll have them eating out of my hand by the end of the week.”
Her mother seemed to shake off the melancholic reverie. Her gaze narrowed, as if she was truly seeing Edie for the first time since she’d walked in the room.
“I’m sure you will, but not with those things on your face.” She waved a finger at Edie’s nose. “Must you wear them downstairs to dinner? They make you look like a bluestocking.”
Edie mentally sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“Bluestockings usually end up on the shelf, Eden,” her mother said in a severe voice. “You are no longer a debutante in the first blush of youth. Spectacles only make you look older than you are.”
That comment knocked the air out of Edie’s lungs. Her mother never criticized her looks or expressed any doubts that she would make anything less than a spectacular marriage. The fact that Mamma thought she was being helpful only made it worse.
She forced herself to rally. “Evie is a bluestocking, and look how well she did. She had not one but two eligible suitors.”
In the distance, the gong of the first bell sounded. Her mother rose and picked up the fan that Davis had placed on the dressing table. “Evelyn’s situation was entirely different. You cannot compare yourself to her.”
Edie frowned. “We’re identical twins. Of course I can compare myself to her.”
Her mother let out a dramatic sigh. “Which means, I suppose, that you will insist on wearing the spectacles.”
“Since Captain Gilbride went through quite a lot of trouble getting them, I don’t want to offend him by not wearing them.”
That, of course, did the trick.
“That is quite true, Eden. Very well, I will allow you to wear them,” her mother said.
“Thank you,” Edie responded drily.
There was a quiet tap on the door. Davis opened it a few inches. “It’s a footman, my lady,” she said, “come to show you the way down to the drawing room.”
“Thank goodness,” said Mamma. “I did not relish the notion of wandering around this great pile of stones by ourselves. God knows we might end up in a dungeon or even encounter a specter.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “One can imagine almost anything happening in Scotland.”
“Indeed, my lady,” Davis said in a doleful voice.
Edie laughed. “Her ladyship was joking, Davis.” She glanced at her mother’s elegant, spare features. “You were, weren’t you?”
“I suppose it will depend on whether I’m awakened during the night by howling ghosts or bloodthirsty clansmen with dirks,” Mamma answered with magnificent disdain. “You may ask me in the morning.”
A liveried footman awaited them in the hall. He gave a respectful bow. “Captain Gilbride sends his compliments, my lady. He sent me to guide you down to the main drawing room.”
Mamma flung out a dramatic arm. “Lead on, MacDuff, lead on.”
The footman’s eyes went wide with alarm. He backed up a few steps, then turned and scurried several feet ahead.
As he led them to the first of many staircases that seemed to crosshatch the castle, Edie squeezed her mother’s arm. “I do love you, you old thing,” she said. Mamma could be a trial, but no one could fault her for lacking in spirit.
“Thank you, my dear child. And I’m pleased you picked that velvet dress. The cream fabric with the gold trimmin
g looks particularly attractive on you. We must hope it and your other attractions outweigh the spectacles, although I must commend Captain Gilbride for having the good sense to select a gold pair. Silver never suited you.”
While Mamma prattled on about attractive dresses, suitable colors, and drafty hallways, Edie couldn’t help thinking about the fact that her spectacles truly didn’t seem to bother Gilbride. The opposite was true it appeared, since he’d almost kissed her yesterday at Mugdock Castle. That had been something of a surprise, given he’d never shown any inclination to do that until a few days ago. Even more surprising was that she’d been about to let him, which illustrated an alarming lack of common sense on her part.
But when he’d loomed over her, his gray eyes smoldering and his imposing body blocking out her view of anything but him, Edie’s brain had scrambled. All she could think of was his mouth and how much she wanted to kiss it. How much she longed to be swept into his strong embrace. If not for that strange figure on the wall and the tumbling rocks, who knew what might have happened?
She remembered how stunned she’d been by the feel of Gilbride stretched on top of her, his body hard in more ways than one. Naturally, she’d gotten him off her as quickly as possible, insisting he track down the idiot who’d almost killed them. His refusal to even consider the idea that someone had deliberately thrown the rocks had led to yet another argument, which had killed any desire on her part to even think about kissing.
Which was just as it should be, she reminded herself for the hundredth time, since the blasted man was betrothed. As for the figure on the wall, she’d likely never find out who it was, so there was little point wasting her energy thinking about it.
“I suppose we’ll be meeting the captain’s reputed fiancée and the rest of the family tonight,” her mother said, pulling Edie from her gloomy thoughts. “I do hope Miss Haddon has better manners than her brother.”
Edie forced back a sigh. “There’s nothing reputed about the engagement, and I’m sure she’ll be perfectly lovely. After all, she is Captain Gilbride’s betrothed.”
How to Marry a Royal Highlander Page 14
