Never Kiss a Laird

by Byrnes, Tess

  “My lord,” he said in a respectful tone. “My deepest apologies that I did not hear you ring.”

  Hugh motioned them back into their seats. “I did not ring, Carr. What’s this James has been telling me about one of the maids stealing something?”

  “It’s Aileen, sir. The new girl. I found her with your diamond stick pin. You’ll remember that we thought it was missing the other day. I found her with it in her hand this morning, plain as day, and I’ve had her locked snugly in the Blue Room ever since. I sent one of the grooms for the constable, sir. He must be having a time tracking him down, for we’ve been expecting them here these four hours and more. But never fear, my lord, we’ll have her in custody before much longer.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved the glinting diamond pin and held it out to Hugh. “Let me return this to you, my lord.”

  Hugh took the jeweled pin and regarded it thoughtfully. The last time he had worn it was the morning after Rupert’s arrival, the day he had gone to Whitethorne cottage to confront Sally. A rueful smile lit his brown eyes. Sally must have found it in her bedchamber and planned to return it. A reluctant grin spread across his face at the thought of how angry his captive probably was at this moment.

  He looked up and saw that he was being regarded with confusion, and he wiped the grin from his face. “I do not think we need to involve the constabulary in this matter,” he said, making his face as stern as possible. “I will deal with the maid myself.”

  “But my lord!” Mr. Carr exclaimed, shocked. “She attempted to steal a very valuable trinket. She must be held responsible.”

  Hugh primmed his mouth against an almost irresistible urge to laugh. “I will hold her, er, responsible, Carr.” His gaze moved to Mrs. White and his expression softened. When his father had been alive, kindness and affection had been in short supply, and Hugh had escaped to the kitchen on more than one occasion. Mrs. White had an endless supply of biscuits and treats, and was only too pleased to have the young laird sitting at her table while she cooked. He smiled at her now, and put a hand on her plump shoulder.

  “I must thank you, Mrs. White, for rising so nobly to the occasion. I know how shocking it was of me to burden you with houseguests so unexpectedly.”

  Mrs. White, her eyes filling with quick tears, shook her head. “Oh, no, my lord. As if you couldn’t invite anyone you wanted at any time to your own home and expect us to treat them properly.”

  “You are very good,” he smiled, and turned to include Mrs. Cameron and his butler in his approbation. “All of you. And now I will go to the Blue Room and deal with our thief. Carr, the key if you please, and may I request that you call off the police?” He pocketed the key to the Blue Room, and turned and left the room before his mirth could escape, leaving his staff to bless themselves at their good fortune in having such a master.

  He ran lightly up the stairs, anticipation quickening his steps. He paused outside the door, picturing the rage that his red-haired beauty would have worked herself into. He slipped the key into the lock, turned it soundlessly, and pushed open the door. Looking around expectantly, Hugh was disappointed to find the room empty. He walked over to test the door that led to a small changing room, but it too was firmly locked. He turned in a slow circle, and his gaze fell on the open window, the spring breeze causing the curtains to flutter into the room, bringing in the faint scent of cherry blossom. Hugh crossed to the casement and leaned out. Yes, he thought with an admiring whistle, Sally would have easily scrambled out onto the tree, and out to her freedom. Hugh gave a shout of laughter.

  He turned to leave the room, and saw Mary poking her head into the room.

  “Wherever has she gone, my lord,” she quavered.

  “I am not sure. Mary, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Mary whispered, awed to be talking to the Laird.

  “Did you speak with Sally, er, Aileen, I mean, this morning, Mary?”

  “Aye, my lord. She asked about the carrier, sir. She wanted to know if I remembered where they came from.”

  “And what did you tell her,” Hugh asked patiently.

  “Why, that it was Fraser’s carrier in Lambeth sir, and she ran off and left me with all the rooms still to tidy.” Mary sniffed, her voice full of self-pity.

  “Lambeth,” Hugh repeated.

  “Yes, my lord. On the Clapham road.”

  “Thank you, Mary. You have been most helpful.”

  “That’s just what Aileen said,” Mary commented, and Hugh felt himself smiling again. He went directly to his bed chamber, and pulled the bell. When Carr arrived, the Earl had changed into travelling gear, and was pulling a roll of bills from a purse in his desk.

  “Carr, I want you to pack an overnight bag for me,” he informed the surprised retainer. Hugh reflected that he never should have left his valet in London, but trusted that Carr could perform this simple task for him.

  “Are you going somewhere, my lord?”

  “Yes, but I should not be gone long,” Hugh assured him.

  “But your guests, my lord,” Carr said in a shocked voice. “You cannot be meaning to leave them here without a host!”

  Hugh paused, putting one hand to his chin. “I had forgotten about the Ridings,’ he mused. “I will just have to ask Rupert to act as host in my stead. Find him for me.”

  Carr shook his head. The Laird had never acted so impetuously before. He had been very correctly brought up by the old Earl, Carr reflected, and had never caused the staff a moment’s worry. Carr sniffed, but he quickly and competently packed an overnight bag for the Earl. By the time Hugh had sent orders for his curricle to be harnessed and brought around, Rupert had been located and he met him in the library.

  “I say, Hugh, are you going somewhere?”

  “I need to be away from Castle Kane for a night or two, Rupert. Please say all that is necessary to the Ridings for me, and may I impose upon you to act as host for me while I am gone?”

  ‘Of course, old man,” Rupert assured him. This might provide him with an opportunity to speak with Mr. Riding, he thought. He would have preferred to have discussed it with the Earl as well, because he had clearly also been pursuing the blonde beauty, but this was definitely not the time for such confidences. Plenty of time when he knew where he stood with Mr. Riding, he temporized, watching Hugh pick up the overnight bag and stride out to the front of the Castle.

  His shining, racing curricle was awaiting him, two chestnut geldings stamping in the traces.

  “By Jove, I like your team, Hugh,” Rupert commented, distracted from his thoughts.

  “Sixteen miles an hour,” Hugh informed him, climbing up and grabbing the ribbons. “Stand away,” he called to the groom, and shot away in a swirl of dust.

  Rupert watched him go, wondering if he had the nerve to ask the Earl to teach him his way of handling a whip, and then turned to go in search of Clarissa and her father.

  Hugh headed his team towards Whitethorne cottage, and his runaway maid. He drove his team well up to their bits, and was soon within sight of the stone cottage. There were no signs of activity, and when he pulled his vehicle to a stop in front of the building, and the front door opened, he was disappointed to only see Millie standing there, a grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders and an anxious expression on her face.

  The Earl leapt down from the curricle, and approached. “Forgive me,” he said with his charming smile. “You must be Millie?”

  Millie curtseyed politely. “You are the gentleman who helped us get our carriage out of the ditch a few weeks back. How do you know my name, sir?”

  “I have become acquainted with Miss Denham, and her brother, you know, is staying with me up at the Castle. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hugh McLeod, the Earl of Kane.” He swept her a graceful bow and when he straightened, saw a look of consternation on her face.

  “You know my mistress’s name? Did Master Rupert tell you? Oh, that thoughtless boy,” she muttered.

  Hugh laughed. “You sound very much
like your mistress.”

  A twinkle awoke in Millie’s eye but she spoke earnestly. “If you know my lady’s identity, you must also know that it is most important that it not be spread about, my lord.”

  “You have nothing to fear from me, Millie,” Hugh assured her. “In fact I am here to offer my assistance to Miss Denham.”

  “Well, you can’t,” Millie replied bluntly. “She’s off to London.”

  “I see,” Hugh murmured. “I assume she went with Tom in the gig?”

  “Only as far as the next village, where she planned to hire faster horses and a closed carriage, my lord.” Millie had the ends of her shawl in her hands, nervously twisting and releasing them. “If you know so much about my lady, you probably also know that she took in your maid when she was dismissed. She has found out where Bridget’s lad works, and intends to reunite them. Her kind heart will get her into trouble one day.”

  “Either that, or her temper,” Hugh supplied grimly.

  “No,” Millie corrected, with a sigh. “She is already dealing with the consequences of her temper, my lord.” She gave the cottage a distasteful look, before resuming the twisting of her shawl.

  The Earl met her worried eyes, a rueful look in his own. “So, what do you recommend, Millie? Do I follow, and attempt to render assistance which Miss Denham is most likely to highly resent? Or do I stay behind, worrying that she might fall into trouble, with no one there to pull her out again.”

  Millie met his eyes unflinchingly. “When it was my turn to make that decision, I came with her, my lord.”

  “So you did,” Hugh acknowledged. “How much of a start do they have on me?”

  “Five hours, my lord. Do you know where she is headed?”

  “I do. Thank you, Millie.” Hugh sprang into his curricle and twitched the reigns. The perfectly matched team surged forward, and within a very few minutes, Millie found herself watching only a swirl of dust in the road. She released the ends of her shawl, wrapping it tightly about herself, and the worried look was very much lighter as she reentered the little stone cottage.

  Sally leaned back against the upholstered seat of the hired carriage and felt some of her tension easing. They would cross the Scottish border soon, and be at the halfway point of their journey well before they had to stop for the night. They would be in Lambeth the next day. Miles had secured four job-horses that seemed well up to the journey, and they would trade teams when they stopped overnight. Sally had purposely dressed in her finest travelling outfit, and with her groom, and Bridget acting as her maid, she would have no difficulty securing a room in a respectable posting house. Sally put an arm around Bridget, and the young maid leaned into her, resting a head on her shoulder. At least this was one good thing to come out of her flight from Denham Park, she thought. Without her intervention, she could only shudder at the fate that might have befallen Bridget.

  Her anger surged again at those who had treated the maid so badly. Did anyone give a thought to what would befall the young girl; pregnant, alone, and separated from the father of her baby? She thought of Hugh, and knew that he was not the actual cause of Bridget’s misfortune. However it was easier to be angry with him, than to feel any other way about him. He was going to marry Clarissa Riding, and so she must have no further contact with Hugh McLeod. Sally knew that she had transgressed against society by dallying with the Earl when he was single, but she would be breaking her own code of conduct to continue to do so once he was engaged to another woman.

  After an interminable time, as the sun began to sink, Sally felt the carriage bumping over a cobbled drive and hoped they had reached the outskirts of Leeds, where they planned to spend the night. Bridget, who had slept peacefully since about twenty minutes of their boarding the carriage, sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “Are we there, miss?”

  “I believe so, Bridget,” Sally said hopefully, stretching her cramped limbs.

  Miles steered the team through the narrow streets, to a posting house with which he was familiar. He climbed down from the box, and after a few minutes, he opened the door.

  “I’ve secured rooms, Miss Sally,” he informed her. “And we can change horses here, and swap back on our way home in a few days.”

  Sally felt an odd constriction in her throat. Home. She was starting to think she didn’t even know what that word meant any more. Was home still Denham Park, or the little stone cottage on the Earl’s estate? But she shook away those thoughts, took the hand that Miles was holding out to her, and descended from the hired carriage.

  Entering the inn, she allowed herself to be shown to a large chamber on the first floor. Miles had bespoken a private parlour on her behalf, and when the publican informed her that dinner would be served in that room in half an hour, Sally realized that she was ravenous. Millie had given them a packet of sandwiches for the trip, but Sally had completely forgotten to eat them. She hoped that Miles, at least, had remembered his little packet.

  Once she was shown to her room, Sallie changed into a cambric gown, and disposing a shawl around her shoulders, went to tap on the door of the adjoining room. Bridget opened the door to her, and stepped out, her face wreathed in smiles, and Sally felt an answering one on her own face.

  “Oh, miss,” Bridget enthused. “What a lovely room, and a fire and all. And tomorrow I will see Robbie! I cannot ever thank you enough, miss.”

  Sally took the girl’s hand and pulled her along the hallway. “And best of all, supper,” she agreed.

  “I am that hungry, miss.” Bridget nodded.

  But when they reached the private parlour, not all of Sally’s arguments could make Bridget come in and eat her meal with Sally.

  “I couldn’t, miss,” Bridget said, in distress. “It’s not right. I’ll eat my supper in the kitchen, with the other staff.”

  “But we eat together at the cottage every night!” Sally exclaimed, confused by the usually easy-going maid’s intractable stance.

  “That’s different,” Bridget insisted. “Everyone here thinks I’m your maid, miss.”

  Sally shook her head, but Bridget was adamant. Sally let her go off to the kitchen, where she would meet up with Miles, and she went into the private parlour alone. It was a cozy room, with a fire in the grate and a comfortable sofa set in front of it. To one side of the room a small table stood, with two chairs pulled up to it. The door opened, and the publican entered, bearing a tray. The aroma coming from the covered dishes drew a deep sigh from Sally, and she seated herself at the table and allowed the man to serve her.

  “My missus is held to have a very light hand in the kitchen, ma’am,” this worthy man informed her. “I’ve got as nice a game pie as you could wish for, and some roast fowls, along with a cutlet of veal in sauce. When you’re done with that, you can try some of these macaroons that would float off the plate as soon as sit there.”

  Accepting a glass of burgundy, Sally informed the man that she would call if she needed anything further, and prepared to enjoy the feast before her. The publican was right, and the pastry was as delicate as anything the cook at Denham Park had ever sent to the table. Sally sipped her wine, and was just trying to decide between a second piece of the game pie or another macaroon, when the door opened.

  Bridget poked her head in, and when she saw her mistress seated at the table, came in and closed the door behind her. “Have you finished, miss? Miles sent me to make sure we were in bed early, as we’ll need to make an early start. I can’t hardly believe that I’m going to see my Robbie tomorrow, miss. I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep.”

  Sally smiled at the girl’s happiness. Bridget seemed entirely sure that her Robbie would be as happy to see her as she would be to see him. Sallie squashed her own reservations. It had been over a month since Robbie had last been at Castle Kane, and she hoped with all her heart that he was as constant as Bridget thought.

  “I have finished, Bridget. Did you have a good dinner?”

  “Ever so good, miss, and I helped t
he missus with the washing up, since her girl had to leave a bit early, and the house being full.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  “Well, she was complaining about her feet, and she made me think of Mrs. White,” Bridget giggled.

  “Upstairs with you, then,” Sally stood and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. She left Bridget in the hallway, and went into her small chamber. Bridget’s comment about Mrs. White made her think about her time at Castle Kane. As she changed into her nightgown, tied her nightcap onto her head, and scrambled into the big, soft bed, Sally struggled to hold on to her usual sense of optimism.

  The great adventure she had begun when she kicked over the traces and fled from her home had changed over the last few weeks. The infinite, exciting possibilities that the world would offer to her once she turned twenty-one and assumed her fortune all seemed somehow sad and lonely now. Certainly, she could move to France, and set up her own establishment. She would most likely be accepted by society there, as a woman with a mystery in her past and the advantage of a large fortune. But it all seemed incredibly empty. She could not help contrasting that bleak future with the one she might have had if she had not lost her reputation. She dared not let herself dwell on the thought of marriage with Hugh McLeod, of sharing his life and his bed for the rest of her days. That could never be her fate now, and she refused to repine. Clarissa Riding would be his bride. For Sally it would be France, and she was determined that no one would ever know how much it would cost her to maintain her brave façade. Sally squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to fall asleep.

  The Earl of Kane pulled his sweating team up at a posting house about a mile away in the town of Leeds. He had been disappointed not to overtake Sally and her entourage on the road to London, but unbeknownst to him he had steadily gained on them, and had arrived in Leeds only an hour behind them. The owner of the posting house rushed from the building to greet the Earl, assuring him that the horses he stabled there were well-rested, and would be able to carry him quickly to London on the morrow. Hugh allowed himself to be led into the inn, handing his team over to the groom. This establishment knew him well, and Hugh had reason to feel comfortable handing his cattle into the care of the stablemen.