“You’re so right, Miss Stapleton. Your wisdom and restraint are a shining example to emulate. I should be only too blessed to become a woman of your astuteness and circumspection in the future. If it pleases you, I shall carry on to contemplate my faults and how I might best temper them. I should even go so far as to attempt to curtail Lady Moira’s wayward activities as well.” After this wonderful bit of flummery, Abby hung her head in shame and tsked herself repeatedly.
For a moment, fate did smile, probably in amusement, and Miss Stapleton nodded with self-satisfaction, believing her lecture had been heard and digested.
“Very well, Lady Abygail, be on your way… Where were you off to?”
“Why, the music room, Miss Stapleton, for my dance class.” ‘Sweet and innocent’, so easy to believe from Abby. A small, angelic looking girl.
“Of course.” The headmistress responded with a smile of her own but added a warning. “But remember, you’ve been forbidden to speak to Lady Moira for the remainder of the week.”
“Why, Miss Stapleton, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The woman smiled again and waved her away. Her own stocky body disappeared around the corner before Abby again hitched up her skirts and darted down the rest of the corridor into Moira MacKenzie’s room and forbidden presence.
Chapter 3
To love and win is the best thing;
to love and lose, the next best.
- Wm Makepeace Thackery
A half hour after sending Abby out to secure their horses, Moira had completed her own task and was back in her room pacing with a tearing vengeance as she waited for Abby’s return. What was taking her so long? They needed to move now! If Vin were to leave…! Her heart clenched and Moira pressed a fist to the offended area.
She had been waiting years to grow up enough to catch Vincent MacKintosh’s attention, to have him see her as more than a friend – or worse, a child! – and the waiting had just begun to pay off. Why just this past Christmas when they’d gone to Glen Cairn to visit the MacKintosh family, she had caught him looking down at her low cut neckline with surprise, and perhaps even a touch of appreciation. She might only be seventeen years old, but Vincent was twenty-two and man enough to welcome an impressive bosom! She had that in spades and considered it but the first step in their transformation from friends to lovers.
But none of that was going to matter if Abby did not come, and soon!
Abby finally burst into the room then, flushed and out of breath and Moira pulled her co-conspirator in, quickly shutting the door. “What took you so long?”
“Got nabbed by Stapleton,” Abby explained catching her breath.
“Did you get the horses?”
“After a fashion,” Abby grinned. “Eve and Kitty are going to get them for us.”
“But…” Moira started to protest, then sucked in a breath. “Ooh, Abby, good thinking.” Moira shared a grin with her friend. Charlie, the stable lad, had a very large crush on Eve…and Kitty. In truth, he never knew which of the pair was which because, though Eve and Kitty were a year apart in age, they looked enough alike to be twins. “That’s brilliant really. Poor Charlie will never know what hit him and he’d never deny them a thing. Where are we to meet up then?”
“Behind the washhouse as soon as we can get there,” Abby asked with a wicked grin as wide as Moira’s. Deviltry was often an extremely contagious condition. “So how are we going to track down the lads? We don’t know where they’re staying.”
“I know. We’ll just have to search for them at the races.”
“Ascot!” Abby froze and stared at her friend. “Moira MacKenzie, you must be mad! We can’t go to the race track!”
Moira looked puzzled. “Why ever not?”
“Moira,” Abby said slowly as if Moira were a child. “Ladies of quality do not go to a public horse race unescorted. Even if it is Ladies’ Day at Ascot.”
Moira shrugged off the bulky dressing gown she’d been wearing to show off her disguise hidden underneath. A young gentleman’s suit of clothes. “We’re not ladies; we’re fine young gentlemen out for a day of leisure.” Moira grinned mischievously and bowed formally in her ‘gentleman’s’ attire.
Abby only snorted. “No one would ever believe you to be a man, Moira”
Indeed, Moira possessed an enviable hourglass figure that was still very obvious beneath the male garb. Moira looked down at her bosom and shrugged. “I’ll work on that while you get changed.” Moira crossed the room, getting down on her knees by the bed. After a second of burrowing, she emerged from beneath it, tossing a bundle of clothes at her friend.
Abby caught it reflexively. “Where did you find clothes that would fit me?”
“Well, all right then, I’m a fine young gentleman and you’re my groom.” Moira winced with an apologetic smile and a shrug. “Sorry. It was all I could find.”
Abby sighed. There was nothing for it. Against all odds, Abby had simply stopped growing when she was twelve. She’d always been a small child, fragile in appearance but now at seventeen, it seemed she’d never grow any taller than her four feet and nine inches. She was no taller than a ten year-old boy plus she was pale and thin as well. Most assumed her a child at first glance and Richard MacKintosh had never been any different.
Even now, Richard continued to see her as a little girl, and who could blame him? But his assumption had allowed her time alone with him that few young ladies of quality might hope for with any gentleman. Each time they met during their summers or on holiday, Richard would often leave the older lads to take her fishing or golfing with him. They would climb trees or ride much as he might with any of his younger siblings. Abby was sure he viewed her much as he did his wee sister, Fiona. He most likely thought they were of an age as well… and Fiona was but ten years old.
Abby could only hoped that one day she might develop enough of a womanly physique to change that friendship to attraction. It was working for Moira, it might work for her.
Abby looked down at her thin body with a grimace. Someday. Maybe.
Unfulfilled dreams not withstanding, Abby thought Richard was the most caring man she’d ever known. He’d do anything for family, but like any young man of one and twenty years, there was a wild side to Richard as well and it seemed that wild side was about to get lured into making what Abby was sure was a big mistake.
And this whole plan of Moira’s might be an even bigger one. Ascot… Abby swallowed deeply. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going to do this. She was always up for a spot of fun but this seemed a lot more risky than most of their shenanigans. It was a completely outrageous idea to even consider and so much like Moira. They would surely be caught. That thought would not leave her, and following so closely behind her last lecture, the magnitude of the anticipated punishment was daunting. “Moira, perhaps we shouldn’t...”
“Think of Richard, Abby.” Moira responded as she wrapped a cloth to bind her breasts then another around her waist to thicken it. “Are you just going to let him walk out of your life without a fight?”
That was the clincher. There was no way on earth Abby was going to miss a chance to see her Richard. The thought spurred her into motion and Abby toed off her shoes. “Help me with my laces then. We need to hurry!”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Cup Day at Ascot
8 June, 1882
Ascot. It was the most popular horse race in England. So popular indeed that Parliament even adjourned so its members might attend the three day event. Open to all, it was a race day that drew eager spectators from every class. It could and did attract the worst elements of society as well as the most elite. It was a sure stomping ground for rogues, swindlers and thieves. Pickpockets by the dozen fanned the crowds searching for their next mark. Dukes and princes rubbed elbows with them all.
Trying to keep up with Moira’s exaggerated swagger, Abby could tell that her friend was having the time of her life. With her voluptuous figure disguised be
neath a fine grey morning suit complete with a diamond stickpin, top hat and walking stick that she must have pinched from her brother long ago, Moira was enjoying the freedom of walking among the prospective buyers at the bidding arena. She fancied the idea that she appeared to be no more than a wealthy, young gentleman out for a bit of adventure. To make the show worth performing, she was moved to bow jauntily to all the females in the crowd, touching the brim of her tall hat to each of them. She obviously considered herself terribly amusing.
Abby almost choked on a bark of laughter as Moira approached a refreshment stall and cockily took a pint of ale from the woman running the stand with a wink and a smile.
“Moira,” she hissed to her friend in admonishment. “At least try to look like a man, won’t you? You’re going to give us away!”
Clearly, Moira’s sense of adventure was overcoming her good sense. If she kept strutting that way, the axe was going to fall for certain. They might not have been discovered… yet, but surely, their absence had been noted at this point and Miss Stapleton had sent someone after them.
“But I’m having the time of my life!”
“We are not here to have the time of our lives, Moira!” Abby protested.
“When did you become such a worry wart, Abby?”
“I’m not! I’d simply rather find the lads before we get caught.”
Moira only laughed merrily.
Yes, Moira was as bold and brash as ever. She had no fear of the consequences and even less trepidation over upsetting a mere headmistress at an English boarding school, no matter how exclusive it might be. Abby supposed that’s how it was when one’s father and grandfather held two of the most ancient titles in Scotland, plus, both men spoiled Moira terribly. Abby’s father might be Earl of Haddington but he was a strict and domineering parent. Once word reached him of this latest exploit, his wrath would be hers and hers alone to bear.
Abby wrinkled her nose at the thought while Moira swept a bow to a pair of doxies as they sashayed by with a giggle and Abby couldn’t stop the snort of disbelief that followed. All the people in the crowded mews were fools if they couldn’t see through Moira’s costume. She couldn’t have looked less like a man if she wanted to.
Unlike herself.
Abby looked down at her own suit of clothes and winced. They were probably young Charlie’s Sunday best. A dark pair of trousers, white shirt and grey jacket. Her feet rattled about loosely in the oversized boots. The only criticism she was likely to receive was that she looked more a boy than a man. From the neck down anyway.
Self-consciously, Abby pulled her hat lower to shadow her face. She knew anyone looking straight at her would recognize her as a woman straight away.
Richard had once said she looked like an angel.
Richard. He was the only thing that mattered… her sole reason for being here and she would focus on that alone. Her head was turning left and right as her eager eyes scanned the crowd for a glimpse of him. A glimpse that would be worth the risk of discovery. Even in the cool morning air, the very thought of his name warmed her and she began to relax. There wasn’t a time of her life that Abygail cared to remember when she hadn’t loved Richard MacKintosh.
At one point in years long past, their father’s had all been friends. Hers, Moira’s, and Richard’s. The future earls of Haddington, Seaforth and Glenrothes had gone to school together at St. Andrew’s University and been fast friends, though Abby couldn’t imagine her grouchy father ever being pleasant or free-spirited enough to be friends with such nice men as Jaime MacKenzie and Alexander MacKintosh. However it had begun, that friendship had led to the three families summering together at the estate of one or the other’s each year. As a result, Abby had known the MacKenzie’s and the MacKintosh’s all her life.
In truth, Abby hadn’t really paid the lads much attention in the beginning. She had Moira and then her own two sisters to play with and keep her company. However, when they were about eight years old, Moira had decided she was going to marry Vincent MacKintosh, simple as that. From that point on, Abby ended up trailing the lads about for the better part of each summer just so Moira could follow Vin.
It wasn’t until Richard had picked her up after that nasty fall from a tree that Abby had finally truly noticed Richard and developed her first crush on him. A year later, Richard and his older brother, Francis, had come to Glen Sannox House to attend her mother’s funeral and Richard, though he had only just lost his own mother, had taken the time to give comfort Abby in her grieving. That was when Abby’s crush had turned to infatuation. She had fallen head over heels for him and that love had grown ever since.
Since being sent down to boarding school five years before, Abby had never returned to Glen Sannox House or Scotland, preferring to avoid her new stepmother and instead, staying with her grandparents during the summer and holidays. Her mother’s parents gave her the affection that her father never had. Her brother would come to visit her there for weeks, and sometimes months, at a time, often bringing one or more of the MacKintosh lads with him.
At first, her grandparent’s hadn’t known what to think of a Richard, a young man five years Abby’s senior, taking any interest in her. It bemused them greatly but, in the end, they let Abby and Richard be when it became clear he had no designs upon her person. Throughout those occasional holidays, she followed Richard with the adoration of a puppy. Richard would ruffle her hair affectionately as one would a young child. Of course, she was well aware that a child was exactly how he viewed her. Her small stature and boyish habits often led people to think that way. Abby was quite certain he saw her as a child of no more than nine or ten years. Even now, she barely reached his chest.
It often bemused Abby that he would continue to age yet he thought she never did. Surely someday Richard would notice she’d grown up right along with everyone else. Surely…
A beefy shoulder struck hers, jogging Abby from her daydreams and, with the man’s quizzical look, she suddenly became aware that people were starting to take notice of them – the odd pair she and Moira made. Lost in her thoughts, Abby hadn’t even been trying to walk like a man. Tugging her hat down and rounding her shoulders in an effort to deter their curiosity, Abby turned her attention to trying to appear more masculine. It wouldn’t do now that they had made it all the way into Ascot to get nabbed straight away and sent back to the school.
Chapter 4
Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo.
- H. G. Wells
“I see Jace!” Moira said suddenly, jarring Abby from her thoughts. “And, there’s Vin as well! Oh, Abby! Come on, we must go see them and talk them out of this rash impulse of theirs.”
“I don’t see Richard,” Abby said, trying to get a peek through the crowd from her low viewpoint.
“We’ll find him later,” Moira insisted, tugging at her arm. “Let’s go before we lose them in the crowd. If we can’t talk them out of joining the army, I at least need to tell Vin that I’ve been in love with him my whole life!”
It was just like Moira to want to announce something like that so boldly. Abby knew she would never be brave enough to just…
“There he is!” Abby cried as she spotted Richard in a crowd near the track. Moira grabbed her arm to hold her back as Abby’s first impulse to rush to him took hold.
The sight of him after so long was overwhelming. Had it truly been almost a year? Her eyes flowed over him from head to toe, drinking him in as quickly as possible before the moment was lost. Just over six feet in height, Richard was more than a full foot taller than she. He was lean and muscular, tanned and beautiful. His hair was so dark that most would call it simply black, but Abby knew better, for really it wasn’t black at all. No, it was brown and red and a dozen shades in between. She knew it could shine in the sun like the deepest mahogany. His eyes were a mossy green. Mysteriously absorbing.
He looked extremely dashing in his charcoal morning suit and top hat, his smile broad. How she had missed that smile, Abby th
ought dreamily. That smile where one corner of his mouth lifted in a way that seemed purely sensual to female eyes. The dancing of his eyes, the flash of white teeth. The low inviting chuckle that Abby had heard so often, if only in her dreams.
The sky, which had been gray and gloomy all morning, parted. For a moment, the bright sunshine beamed down on Richard as he grinned again, his teeth flashing brightly again his tanned skin. Abby’s hands stole to her cheeks in a thoroughly feminine display. She almost couldn’t drag her gaze away until her eyes caught the motion of his hand and followed it with her eyes as he reached out to toy with a long, dark curl that rested against the plentiful expanse of his companion’s bountiful bosom. His knuckles brushing against her bare skin as that sensual smile deepened.
Finally, Abby was able to focus on the saucy looking young woman Richard was directing those seductive skills at. Feeling the rush of joy the sight of Richard inspired wither away, Abby stared at the pair through a thick crowd that seemed to have parted like the Red Sea to provide her the best view of the devastating scene.
Her chest tightened with emotion as Abby took stock of her competition. She was everything Abby was not. Tall and dark with an hourglass figure extreme enough to rival Moira’s – the complete antithesis to Abby’s petite, blond fragility. She was dressed fashionably yet provocatively. She hummed and cooed at Richard, leaning into him, brushing that plentiful bosom against Richard’s arm.
Then Richard slid an arm about the woman’s slender waist as they turned away and melted into the thickening crowd.
Abby’s jaw sagged in disbelief as she gasped for breath. Why she was... They were...! She simply couldn’t believe it. Not Richard and that woman! Not her Richard! An emotion such as she never experienced before shook her to the very core. Outrage, she was sure.
Questions for a Highlander Page 2
