Chapter Six
By the ghost of Rabbie Burns, playing bodyguard to this bonny Englishwoman was shaping up to be a more intriguing task than Gerard could have anticipated. Holding back a sly grin at her bold statement, he studied her. Her honey-toned hair had escaped the hairpins she’d used to pin it in place and now framed her face in wild ringlets. Spirit blazed in her eyes, as if she itched to tell Society itself to take up residence in Hades. Whether protecting her would present a challenge was yet to be seen, but one thing was certain—watching over Lady Evelyn was not likely to be dull.
Did the lass naturally attract trouble, or was she experiencing seven years of bad luck in one day? Standing before him, her dirt-caked skirts so weighted with moisture the garments molded to the curves of her shapely hips and bottom, she held her chin high.
His gaze lingered over her. As if with a blasted mind of its own, his cock signaled its own response. A rush of lust coursed through his veins. Truth be told, he could not be sure whether it was Evelyn’s tempting form or the defiance in her eyes that triggered the surge of desire. If he took her to his bed, would she display such an intriguing heat?
Evelyn squared her shoulders and met the ginger-haired woman’s cold gaze. Her bold words lay to rest any notion she’d slink away and take cover in the midst of her more pleasant-tempered companions.
“It goes without saying that I regret my rather unfortunate tumble onto your flowers, but I prefer to see the bright side. A bit of mud on my skirts seems a small price to pay to experience a handsome Scot’s gallant charm. It’s quite a refreshing change from the men I’ve encountered in dreary old London.” Her attention darted from Lady Houghton to Gerard and back again. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Gerard had to swallow a chortle at the redhead’s shocked expression. Lady Houghton appeared to struggle for a pithy retort. At her side, her husband slanted an amused glance. So, the laird took some measure of enjoyment in seeing his wife left speechless.
“Well…I suppose one could look at it that way.” It seemed as if Lady Houghton had swallowed not only a gulp of air, but a portion of her high-and-mighty pride. “Mr. MacMasters has certainly had an opportunity to put his chivalrous side to good use.”
He gave a shrug. “I’ve done nothing of note.”
“Come now, Mr. MacMasters, don’t be modest,” Lady Evelyn said. “If not for you, I might still be taking up residence in the flower bed.”
“That’s highly unlikely, lass. Even with all those layers of clothing weighing ye down, I’m sure ye’d have found a way.”
“Quite so.” A faint smile brightened her face.
A streak of dirt stood out against the blush of her skin, slanting down over one high cheekbone. Odd, how the smudge did not diminish her beauty. Rather, in some undefinable way, the mark lent a vulnerability to her beautiful features that left her damned near irresistible. Something about the look in her eyes made him itch to touch her, to feel the satin of her skin beneath his fingertips. If he reached for her and gently brushed away the soil, would she recognize the gesture for what it was—an excuse to make contact?
He clenched his hand against the urge. He had a job to do. Seducing Lady Evelyn was not part of the plan.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Her lips thinned, seemingly in response. Had she sensed the direction of his thoughts? She made a show of shaking her skirts, as if that might displace the muck coating the fabric.
“You see, Mr. MacMasters, your intervention has provided a silver lining in this cloud that’s seemed to hover over me this day. Now, I can claim not one but two rescues by a rugged Scot. What better way to spice up rather ordinary and dull conversations upon my return to London?”
“Good heavens, Evelyn, what has happened to you?” Miss Brennan rushed toward them as if one of Lucifer’s minions nipped at her dainty heels. She took hold of Lady Evelyn’s hands as she studied her face. “Oh, dear, you look…terrible. How… How did this—”
Lady Houghton turned to the brunette. “Sally, dear, as ye can see, Lady Evelyn has suffered another mishap. Might I trouble ye to accompany her back to the house? Millie will serve as her lady’s maid. I’m sure she’s somewhere about. After she draws a bath, Lady Evelyn can make herself presentable.”
“Of course. It’s no trouble at all.” Miss Brennan turned to Gerard, cocking her head at an angle as if to better take him in. The sun hung low in the sky, and she blinked against its rays. Or had she attempted to shake off her confusion at laying eyes on him again? “Goodness, it is you.” She moved closer to Evelyn, a look of protectiveness in her eyes. “Why have you followed us here? Is there something we should know—some danger that’s come to light?”
“It’s nothing like that.” The lie did not come easily, but was born of necessity. Only a select few could know the truth. Upon being briefed, Laird Houghton had shrugged off the danger, refusing to consider any alteration of the wedding plans. He’d come from a long line of proud Scots who’d stood their ground over more menacing threats than an assassin, or so he’d insisted. But the facts of his mission to protect Lady Evelyn would remain closely held. Need to know, and all that blasted protocol. There was no cause to alarm the bride and cast a pall over her nuptials.
She tapped a toe against a garden stone. “Have you brought news about the incident at the shop?”
When he shook his head, she pursed her lips.
“In that case—might I ask why the devil you are here?”
He met brown eyes filled with suspicion. “I’ve come for yer wedding.”
“For my wedding?” Miss Brennan planted her hands on her hips, pinning him with a look that seemed to cut through him. The brunette was as much a spitfire as Evelyn.
“Wild horses could not have kept me away.”
“Well, then, that’s that.” She touched Lady Evelyn’s forearm. “Let’s see about finding Millie. A hot bath will be just the thing.”
An image flashed through Gerard’s thoughts—Lady Evelyn soaking in a hot tub, soapy bubbles to the chin, softly sighing as he massaged her tense shoulders, smiling as he toweled her dry. Blood surged to his groin. Bollocks, he needed to get a tight rein on his rampaging imagination. Much more of that, and he’d give the women a sight to remember as his cock acted with a will all its own.
Lady Evelyn slanted him a discreet look. Did she have any notion of the restraint he employed to redirect his renegade thoughts? To refrain from touching her, if only to brush away that oddly appealing bit of mud from her cheek?
“That would be delightful,” she said. Was it his imagination, or did her interest flicker back to him as she spoke the words?
Lady Houghton said crisply, “Dinner will be served at eight. That should give ye time to refresh yerself.”
“Very good. That should be more than adequate. Thankfully, I do not expect any further mishaps.” Evelyn’s intelligent eyes flashed with mischief. “I won’t take a tumble into the soup or send a silver platter toppling from the sideboard. I promise.”
Blast it, he hadn’t expected her to be so attractive. Protecting her would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t have to battle his rebellious cock at every turn.
She turned toward the house, pausing to throw him a glance and a teasing smile over her shoulder. “I look forward to becoming better acquainted. Until tonight, Mr. MacMasters.”
…
Oh, good heavens, what had she done? Walking at Sally’s side, Evelyn kept her eyes downcast. She’d let her desire to put a burr beneath Lady Houghton’s bony heel run wild, and in the process, she’d cast aside any sense of decorum. She’d all but sidled up to the delectable Highlander and batted her eyes in invitation. Engaging in an enjoyable flirtation with a man when she was alone and not in a position to tarnish Sally by association was one thing—playing the wanton if only to leave Lady Houghton speechless was quite another.
Sally held her back stiff, her manner unusually cool. “You put on quite a performance back there,” she said, pronouncing each word with a quiet precision.
“A performance?” Evelyn forced a scoffing note into her voice. “I had a bit of fun. There’s no harm done.”
“In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never known you to be so…bold.”
Her friend’s words pinched like the stays of a too-snug corset. Surely, Sally would understand her reasons.
“So bold? As if there’s something so very wrong about that. I engaged in a bit of flattery, perhaps more flirtation than I’d allowed for a very long time. I see no harm in that.”
“I did not say there was any harm done. But…Lady Houghton does not know you as I do. You certainly do not want her to think you are less than…respectable.”
“Lady Houghton is entirely fluent in the gossip out of London. My respectability—or more to the point, my lack of it—is not in question in the woman’s mind.”
Sally flashed a frown. “Come now, Evie. You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Would it matter if I did?” Evelyn folded her arms at the waist, bracing herself against a wave of emotion. Was it possible that Sally had been so oblivious to Lady Houghton’s thinly veiled cuts? “I will make every effort to conduct myself as a prim and proper lady. I would not want anything to interfere with your happiness as you prepare to wed.”
“You say prim and proper as if it is utterly distasteful.”
Evelyn gave a little shrug. “I would not say that it is distasteful. Boring might be more to the point. And rather a waste of time that might be put to a far more enjoyable use.”
“A waste of time?” A little vee formed between Sally’s dark brows. “You must think of your reputation. You don’t want to create the wrong impression.”
“And what reputation might that be? I’ve none to salvage, or have you forgotten that?”
Sally sighed. “You did nothing to deserve a mark on your character. We both know that.”
A mark on your character. Such a civilized way to present the betrayal that had branded her. Amazing, how the wound still ached. She’d thought herself past the pain.
Unfortunately, she was mistaken.
“I have no good name left to preserve. Lord Brandemill made sure of that.”
“That’s not true, Evie. Those who know you—”
“You have been a loyal friend. All these years, you’ve ignored the talk. But you know how it is. So many prefer to believe the salacious gossip. The truth could smack them on the tip of their aristocratic noses, but then they smile as they turn aside and spread another rumor.”
Sally pursed her mouth. She knew the truth, even if she was loath to admit it. “It’s not quite so bad as all that.”
“Isn’t it?” Evelyn crooked a skeptical brow. “You know the truth. Brandemill might have broken off our engagement in a civilized manner. He could have chosen to leave me for that woman—and the fortune her father was willing to stake on the marriage to buy a title for his daughter—without humiliating me. I’d known about the bad blood between Nigel and my father. He’d been so very angry when Papa dismissed his request for funds to restore his family estate. But I’d never dreamed…never considered that he’d use me as a pawn to humiliate my family.”
A blend of anger and compassion brimmed in Sally’s eyes. “Brandemill is a scoundrel. The lowest of the low.”
“And yet, I am considered a fallen woman…ruined. As if I were so much rubbish to be cast aside and allowed to rot.”
“Ruined? Pishposh, I’ve never known you to be so dramatic. It’s not like you, Evelyn.” Sally opened the door from the terrace to the solarium. Evelyn followed her inside. “I’ll see about finding your lady’s maid. You’ve had a trying time, what with the incident at the bookseller’s shop and that nasty spill you took. A long soak in a hot tub will work wonders. Once your nerves are soothed, you’ll be in a far better frame of mind.”
“I do hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.” Sally smiled, reassuring and gentle. “Wear something to dinner that brings out the blue in your eyes. I do believe you’ve made an impression on Mr. MacMasters.”
“Indeed, I’m quite certain of that,” Evelyn said. “Considering what happened in the bookseller’s shop and the way he came upon me after I’d taken a spill in the garden, and my attempt at a cheeky flirtation while plastered with dirt from head to toe, he likely believes me to be an utter disaster.”
She shrugged. In truth, what did it matter? MacMasters was a fine specimen, with those broad shoulders, piercing amber eyes, and the wicked temptation in his smile. But in the greater scheme of things, his opinion did not signify, not one whit. After she’d departed the milliner’s shop, she’d never expected to lay eyes upon the Highlander again. She’d crammed her skirts into the crowded, woman-and-parcel-filled carriage and headed off to Houghton Manor. Discovering that he, of all people, had also ventured to the remote castle would’ve been rather a shock under the best of circumstances, but to look up and encounter his penetrating gaze while she lay sprawled in the dirt… Perhaps someday she would be able to laugh at the memory. Or perhaps not. In either case, his opinion of her had no power to impact her life.
Not now.
Not ever.
Still, she couldn’t deny he’d been a gentleman as he clasped her forearm and gently steadied her as he pulled her out of the muck. The heat in his touch had stirred a thirst for more contact. Pity she’d have to forgo another scandalous flirtation, if only for Sally’s sake.
“That isn’t what I meant.” Sally’s smile faded as her forehead furrowed with faint lines. “On another note, I cannot help but see that you have not warmed to Catriona. Is there something I should know?”
It is a bit difficult to take to someone who prods you with her dainty pitchfork.
Evelyn held back a sigh. “There’s no need to concern yourself with such trivial matters,” she said gently. “You must keep your focus on what is important at this moment—soon, you will be a married woman.”
Sally nibbled her bottom lip. “Cathy can be a bit…well, a bit much at times. But she is a dear sister to Dougal and she has been ever so kind to me. All of this is so new…so unlike the life I’m leaving behind.” Emotion colored each word. “This castle, the Highlands… I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. She’s been like a sister to me.”
Cathy. The diminutive rang in Evelyn’s ears. Somehow, the name did not fit her hostess.
“There’s no need to explain.” Evelyn swallowed against her own unhappiness as the despair in Sally’s eyes tore at her. Heaven knew she did not want to cause a conflict for her dear friend, much less now, as her wedding day approached. She would make this work. Somehow, she would strike a truce with the woman who would soon be Sally’s sister-in-law.
“Thank you.” Sally drew her near, hugging her tight. “I knew I could count on you to understand. And don’t worry about Catriona’s flowers. She can be a bit overwrought at times. I suppose I’ve gotten used to it.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Evelyn quipped.
“You’d be surprised what one can do in the name of love.” Sally laughed. Taking a step back, she looked down at her hands, giggling again as she stared down at the dirt that had transferred from Evelyn’s filthy dress to her own fingers. “You do know how to make a mess, don’t you? At least you can count yourself fortunate that Mr. MacMasters was there to provide his assistance. Rather a grand stroke of luck, wasn’t it?”
“That is one way of looking at it,” she said drily.
“There is an excellent chance you’ll be seeing more of Mr. MacMasters this week.” Sally flashed a coy smile.
“In that case, I should make myself presentable. It wouldn’t do to face him covered in grime…again.”
“I don’t think you’ve any reason for concern. The man couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“Of course not. Who could possibly look away from such a sight? I cannot imagine I’ve impressed him with my grace and femininity.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Sally said, giggling. “Ah, there’s the head housekeeper. She’ll know where Millie’s gone off to.”
“Miss Brennan, how might I be of service?” Dressed in a pristine uniform, her pale reddish hair pulled into a precise bun, the housekeeper offered a slight smile.
“Mrs. Cavanaugh, I was informed that Millie will be acting as Lady Evelyn’s maid during her stay.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Cavanaugh’s attention set on Evelyn. Curiosity twinkled in her gray-blue eyes. “I’ll see to it that she runs ye a bath and provides anything else ye might be needin’.”
“Thank you. In the meantime, I’ll see Lady Evelyn to her room.”
“Very good, ma’am,” the housekeeper said, turning crisply as she headed off in search of the maid.
Following Sally’s lead, Evelyn made her way up the stairs to the second floor, to the east wing of the house where guests of the manor were accommodated in well-appointed spaces. As they neared her chamber, a slender, pleasant-faced young woman hurried to meet them at the door. She shot Evelyn a quick glance from hem to head and introduced herself as the aforementioned Millie.
“I’m looking forward to bein’ of service,” the maid said. “First things first. I’ll run yer bath, then I’ll see to it that ye’ve been provided any items ye’ll be needing for yer comfort. Soaps, towels, perhaps a dressing gown.”
“Thank you. All of those items sound delightful.”
“You’re in good hands with Millie. Now enjoy your bath and prepare for what may well be a memorable evening.” Sally threw a subtle wink her way.
“Memorable?” Evelyn scoffed. “After the day I’ve had, I’m craving a hot soak in the tub, a bit of supper, and a cozy bed. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”