“I think you will agree that she is a very special woman,” Lord Francis answered. “As I surmise that your intention is to make a second proposal of marriage to Miss Walcott, I offer my example as encouragement to try again.”
“And I mean to take it,” said the earl stoutly. “I believe that I cannot be happy without her daily presence.”
Francis took a sip of his whiskey. “I can understand Harriet’s reluctance if you did indeed speak to her as though she was merely a collection of good points, rather like a horse you were considering purchasing. She is a very warm-hearted person, who loves those close to her fiercely, and has a deep need to be loved by them in turn. I am sure she would find it painful to feel great affection toward a husband who could not return some portion of those sentiments.”
“That was indeed how I broached the matter,” Glencairn admitted. “I realized over the course of the summer that I need to remarry, and was dreading the notion of spending months in London seeking a new wife, when I noticed that Miss Walcott had all the birth, breeding, and manners I sought, and was very fond of my children besides. So that is how I phrased my offer of marriage.”
“I have observed Miss Walcott more closely since receiving your letter and it is clear to me that she is not indifferent to you Glencairn. I think her heart is still yours to claim, but as her friend and yours, I hope you will not hurt her further by professing to love where you do not.”
Glencairn laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, I am truly a case of absence making the heart grow fonder. Less than a week after Miss Walcott’s departure I found myself missing her company—not merely because my children or their governess are so fond of her, but because I missed strolling in the gardens with her, discussing the household, even her tales of London and the social life I have shunned for the last decade.”
Lord Francis, who valued Harriet’s caring disposition, but could scarcely imagine pining for her chatter about friends and relatives, realized that Glencairn must truly love her. “Miss Walcott has been very busy with your children and the rest of us since our arrival. Perhaps some time alone with her would help your cause,” he suggested.
Glencairn turned to him eagerly, “An excellent notion,” he exclaimed. “I have not had her to myself for a moment, and it is difficult to woo a woman in company.”
“I’m sure that Isobel and I can be quite late for dinner this evening,” Lord Francis chuckled. “Perhaps a few quiet moments over a glass of sherry will help.”
Glencairn clapped him on the back. “I welcome your tardiness, and will make good use of the opportunity.” He took a swig of his whiskey and turned back to the billiards table. “I believe it is my shot.”
Chapter 21
Harriet plucked nervously at the skirt of her dress as she descended the steps to the main floor of Glencairn Castle. She had waited in her room as long as she thought polite, and it was at least ten minutes after the appointed time to meet in the drawing room before dinner. It was against her nature not to be prompt, but the thought of arriving before Francis and Isobel and being made to spend time alone with Lord Glencairn filled her with dread. Surely he thought her a foolish creature for turning down his proposal, and a weak-willed one for agreeing to return to Scotland.
It had, however, been a lovely day, she reflected. Her time spent with Sophy and Catherine had been very happy, and she was glad, despite everything, to see Ballydendargan and Glencairn at Christmastime. Glencairn might have been built for this festivity, with its huge fireplaces that blasted out warmth, the towering ceilings that held shadows not even the brightest torch could reach, and the warmth of its ancient oak wainscoting. Her fingers drifted along the burnished wood of the cunningly carved banister, thinking of the generations of Learmouths who had lived in this home and of how very lucky they were.
When she reached the foot of the stairs she dismissed her fanciful notions and, drawing a deep breath and setting her shoulders firmly, marched into the drawing room. Expecting to find Francis and Isobel as well as Glencairn awaiting her, she had a smile on her face and an explanation for her tardiness hovering on her lips. It died abruptly, however, when she realized the room held only Lord Glencairn, very elegantly attired in in a black coat, with biscuit hued knee breeches. A single watchfob dangled from his white waistcoat, and his neckcloth was a successful example of the difficult waterfall knot. He stood with his back to the fireplace, his white hair shining in the candlelight, with his hands clasped behind him, and she thought once again, with a sinking sensation, what a fine figure of man he was.
“Lord Glencairn,” she faltered, her excuse fading from her mind.
“Miss Walcott,” he said, moving forward and taking her hand in his. “How delightful you look tonight.”
She glanced down at herself, her thoughts so muddled that she scarcely remembered what she wore. “Oh, thank you, my lord,” she breathed. “You look very elegant as well.”
Lord Glencairn tugged briefly at his cuff. “That is very kind of you, Miss Walcott. I sometimes think that, living retired as I do, I have quite failed to keep up with the latest fashions. I would not want to be thought out of date.”
“Not at all, my lord. You are always dressed most correctly, and, indeed, with excellent taste.” Harriet flushed, realizing that he might interpret her comment as an admission that she paid a great deal of attention to his appearance. “Not that I am expert in these things,” she hastened to assure him. “Isobel is so much more aware of fashions than I am, but I am sure she would agree with me—not that she pays particular attention to how others dress, it is only that she has such an excellent eye for color and style, and she does care a great deal about her own clothing, and of course, she is a great help when I wish to choose a dress,” she concluded breathlessly.
“No doubt,” said Lord Glencairn. “I’m glad that you approve of my appearance.”
Harriet grew pinker. “It is not my place to have such an opinion, my lord. You are, after all, master of this home, and anything you do must be thought appropriate.” She glanced around anxiously. “Wherever could Lord and Lady Francis be?”
“Lady Francis is doubtless lingering over her toilette,” said Lord Glencairn. “You did just tell me how she takes great care with her appearance.”
“She does, but she is not vain at all,” said Harriet hastily. “I would not have you think that she is empty-headed, or thinks too highly of herself. She is very gracious, you know, and so lovely that it can hardly matter if she spends time primping. It is not like her to be tardy; I wonder if she needs me as she did not bring her maid with her on this journey. Perhaps I will go upstairs and see if all is well.”
She turned toward the door, but Lord Glencairn gently took her hand in his and led her to a settee near the fire.
“Nonsense. Lady Francis has a husband to help her now, and, if she has need of you, be sure that there are dozens of servants who could fetch you at any time. I am sure that she and Lord Francis will be along at any moment. May I bring you a glass of sherry?”
Harriet seated herself on the very edge of the settee and looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Yes, sherry would be wonderful,” she answered, thinking that perhaps two sherries would be even more welcome. She watched Lord Glencairn pour the golden-brown liquid into a fine crystal copita and return to her. She was pleased to see that her hand shook only slightly as she took the glass, careful to avoid touching his fingers.
Lord Glencairn seated himself across from her and smiled gently. He cradled a brandy snifter in one hand, and Harriet forced herself to not watch his long fingers as they balanced the crystal vessel.
“I must thank you, Miss Walcott, for agreeing to accompany Lord and Lady Francis to Glencairn,” he said. “I’m sure the trip was long and dull, and I can only hope that you find your stay here pleasant.”
“It was not as dull as it might have been. Isobel is an entertaining traveling companion, and I think she was glad of my presence, for Lord Francis insisted on riding for most of the
journey, and she might have been very bored without me to chat with,” Harriet assured him. “And, while I had not planned to come to Scotland for Christmas, it is very beautiful here, and it will be a pleasant memory for many years to come. I am also pleased to see Sophia and Douglas, and my dear Miss Dalburn, who I have missed a great deal.”
“Perhaps it will not be only a memory,” said Lord Glencairn.
“What?” faltered Harriet.
“I only meant that perhaps you will be at Glencairn Castle for another Christmas,” he answered.
Harriet’s eyes widened. “It is a long journey, as you said, and I doubt Lord Francis would wish to come here every year; he must go to Strancaster from time to time, I’m sure, and Isobel will wish to be at Kitswold as well, I do imagine. And my sister, Mrs. Benderly, has lovely children, and of course I expect to be with her some years. But perhaps one day, when Sophia is wed, it might be pleasant to come back and visit with her.”
“That will be many years from now,” observed Lord Glencairn. “I will hope to see you here long before then.”
Harriet cast an anguished glance at the door. “Goodness, it is not like Isobel to be this late,” she said. She took a gulp of her sherry.
“I’m sure they will appear soon,” said Glencairn soothingly. “Sophy has told me how delighted she is to see you, Miss Walcott. I believe she has missed you dreadfully these past months.”
“Dear Sophy,” said Harriet. “I have missed her as well. But she is a young lady now, and will very soon be far busier. You must be sure, my lord, that she makes friends with other young women in the area, and spends time with them. It is not only gentlemen that she needs to be able to converse with. A woman who does not have close companions among her own sex is a lonely person indeed.”
“I will remember that,” said the earl. “You are very wise, Miss Walcott.”
Harriet blinked. “Thank you, my lord. Though I think most people find me a bit rattle-brained. Wisdom is not considered to be one of my finer traits.”
“Most people are wrong, then,” said Lord Glencairn firmly.
Harriet tossed off the rest of her glass of sherry, hoping she would thus be able to avoid answering him, and wracking her brains for a new topic of conversation.
Chapter 22
Fate came to her rescue in the form of Lord and Lady Francis. Harriet heard a rustle in the doorway to the drawing room, and turned to see them enter. She placed her glass on a side table and rose hastily to her feet.
“Oh, my dear, how pleased I am to see you,” she said, moving to Isobel’s side.
Isobel glanced at Francis, and then turned to Harriet and gave her a brief hug. “We saw each other not three hours ago,” she said.
“I was worried that perhaps you were ill,” said Harriet. “It is not like you to be late. Lord Glencairn and I were discussing whether I should go upstairs and see how you were.”
“I assured Miss Walcott that your husband could adequately assist you in any way,” said the earl smoothly.
“There is nothing wrong with me,” said Isobel with a laugh. “I am late because I changed my mind about which gown I would wear, and then Francis suggested I wear the pearl set rather than the diamonds, and I had dismissed the maid, so he was forced to assist me. As clever a man as he is, he is not well versed in the ways of women’s jewelry.”
“I believe I gave you adequate assistance,” said Lord Francis with a lazy smile. He glanced at Lord Glencairn, his eyebrows raised a bit, and the earl gave a tiny shake of his head.
“May I fetch you a sherry, my dear?” asked Francis of his wife.
“Thank you,” said Isobel. She sat down on the settee, and Harriet hastily plopped down next to her. Francis strolled back, carrying two glasses of sherry, and handed one to each lady.
“Oh, thank you,” breathed Harriet.
There was a moment of silence, and then Francis turned to Lord Glencairn with a polite question about the recent harvest. Talk turned to generalities, and Harriet sipped at her sherry and allowed the conversation to wash over her. She hoped that her alarm at being alone with Lord Glencairn had not been too obvious, but she rather thought that, by now, he must be less interested in her than ever. After all, she had babbled on like a complete fool. She took another sip of her sherry and gazed into the fire.
“Miss Walcott?”
Harriet jumped, very nearly spilling her sherry, and looked up, to see Lord Glencairn standing before her, proffering his arm. She gave him a bewildered look.
“Dinner is ready,” he said. “May I escort you in?”
“Gracious,” she said hurriedly. “But Lady Francis is the ranking lady present. You should give her your arm, and I will follow with Lord Francis.”
Lord Glencairn smiled. “We are among friends here, and I think matters of precedence may safely be ignored. I do not think Lord Francis would thank me for parting him from his bride, and it would give me a great deal of pleasure to escort you, Miss Walcott.”
Harriet hesitated, but then realized further protestations would only make her appear ridiculous. After all, it was Lord Glencairn’s home, and if he wished to ignore the conventions, that was his right. Gathering herself together, she managed a smile and stood, taking his arm gingerly. She had leaned on his arm many times this past summer, but tonight the action seemed particularly fraught.
She glanced over at Isobel and Francis and thought for a second that Isobel was watching them approvingly, but her cousin rapidly turned her head away and said something to her husband that made him give a gentle laugh and murmur something in return. Relieved that they did not appear to be observing her, she allowed the earl to lead her into the dining room. The finest Learmouth china gleamed from the snowy white of the table cloth, and crystal and freshly polished silver winked in the light of dozens of candles. Lord Glencairn had seen that this room was dressed for the season as well, and holly sprigs and evergreen wreaths hung on the oaken walls and from the sparkling chandelier.
“How lovely,” Harriet murmured.
“Lady Francis once told me how much you enjoyed this time of year,” said Lord Glencairn. “I’m glad you find it pleasing.”
“It is beautiful,” she assured him.
Lord Glencairn seated her on his left and Isobel and Francis arrayed themselves on the other side of the table.
“I know it is very unfashionable to sit with your husband,” said Isobel. “But I am sure the two of you will forgive us.”
“I am so delighted to see you wed, that I would forgive you almost any social transgression,” said the earl. “Do you not agree, Miss Walcott?”
“Indeed, I do, though I imagine Isobel is very tired of hearing me say so,” enthused Harriet.
“We are overjoyed ourselves, and I, at least, will never tire of hearing good wishes,” said Francis. “And if it were not for Miss Walcott, our wedding day would have been far less enjoyable, and certainly far less beautiful.”
“’Tis true. I was in such a taking that I could scarce plan a thing,” said Isobel. “We wished to be married very quickly, and I thought perhaps we would not have a wedding breakfast, but Harriet took it all in hand. I am sorry that you could not be there, my lord, for you would have been amazed to see the number of people who returned to London to celebrate with us, all at Harriet’s behest, and of course, she made sure I had a beautiful dress and that all was as it should be at St. George’s and the breakfast afterward.”
Harriet beamed. “It was nothing, truly. Lord and Lady Francis have so many friends, and I knew they would wish to attend the wedding if it was in any way possible. Anyone who lived within a day’s ride thronged into London, and I had only to make sure that they were well fed. It was far simpler than Isobel imagines.”
“At any rate, I could not have done without you,” said Isobel.
“I do have my little specialties,” said Harriet triumphantly. “While I may not be the most fashionable or most clever woman in any room, I do imagine that am the most likel
y to be able to insure that everyone has enough to eat!”
Lord Glencairn patted her hand. “An exceptional talent, Miss Walcott, and one that will always be appreciated.”
The servants began to move around the table, serving the first course, and Harriet exclaimed at the excellence of the soup and the freshness of the salmon. Lord Glencairn poured a fine champagne into his guests’ glasses, and a toast was drunk to the season and the company of good friends. Time passed amicably as they moved on to the second course and thence to the sweetmeats. Eventually, Isobel and Harriet retired to the drawing room, with Isobel giving Francis a teasing glance and reminding him not to linger too long over his port.
Isobel and Harriet arranged themselves on the settee by the fire, the better to enjoy its warmth. Harriet stretched out one hand to it and looked around the room, admiring its fine proportions.
“I passed many hours at Glencairn Castle this summer, but much of that was spent in the gardens,” she said. “It seems to be a lovely home in every season.”
Isobel nodded her agreement. “While I would not choose to live in a centuries-old castle, Lord Glencairn has truly made it into a home. You can feel how happy he and his children are here.”
“How can you say you would not choose to live here?” objected Harriet. “For all it is the dead of winter, every room is warm and well-lit, and I vow one would never know it was snowing outside! The walls are so thick one cannot even hear the wind!”
“I meant no insult!” laughed Isobel. “It is an exceedingly comfortable dwelling. I prefer something a bit smaller, and nearer to London, but no one can blame Glencairn for not wanting to leave such a residence.”
Harriet subsided, and gestured vaguely, realizing that she had responded a bit strongly. “It is just that I came to be so fond of Glencairn and its residents this summer,” she murmured.
“Of course you did,” said Isobel, taking her hand and squeezing it. “We all know how very close you are to Sophy and Douglas, and what a good friend you have in Catherine Dalburn.”
The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance Page 12
