Chapter Three

Kindness was going to kill Kenna.

The orchestra struck up a country dance as she entered the ballroom of Lord Lexington’s home alongside Lady Chastity and Sir Stirling. Lady Chastity had refused to leave Kenna home, insisting Kenna would be lonely. Her heart squeezed. She was far lonelier in this crowded ballroom than she would have been curled up in bed with a book, or in the nursery watching over the Stirlings’ darling baby girl. Shame washed over her. In fairness, Lady Chastity wasn’t wrong. Kenna was lonely. She missed home: the crisp air as the leaves turned color on these autumn days, and the clear, tinkling water of the fairy pools. The rocks in the shallows often reflected a green-turquoise color, much like the color of the dress she wore.

The one bright spot in the evening was the dress. She favored the color. But the pleasure was bittersweet, for her memories lingered on her younger cousin, Owen, as he waded, whooping, in the clear turquoise water with his friends, Allen and Kevin. How many times had her aunt sent her in search of the lad only to find him at one of the pools with his friends?

Her heart warmed. At ten years of age, he had begun to show signs of manhood. His stoic expression on the morning she’d left, as she waved goodbye from the carriage, had been too grown up. Still, she fancied the shimmer in his eyes had been unshed tears. The warmth vanished. She’d been gone a month. Did he think much of the girl who was the only sister he had known? Boys cared so little for anything other than sword play with sticks and chasing tadpoles in fairy pools—which was exactly as it should be.

Three ladies smiled at Sir Stirling, and he greeted them as they passed. Kenna angled her head and murmured “Hello” in response to their smiles. A couple greeted them, and she smiled and said “Hello” again, and again. The din of conversation seemed to roar in competition with the music.

Tears pricked. Nae. She had promised her aunt she would not cry after leaving Skye—though she had broken that promise a dozen times. She would not embarrass Lady Chastity and Sir Stirling. Why, oh, why had her aunt been home the day Sir Stirling arrived on their doorstep? She was being foolish. She didn’t know Sir Stirling well, but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t have left without speaking with her.

They reached a vacant alcove on the far side of the room. If Kenna didn’t know Sir Stirling, she would have thought him fortunate to find an unoccupied, private alcove. But she did know better. No doubt, the hostess had reserved the spot especially for him.

He stood aside as Lady Chastity entered. He smiled at Kenna a she followed close behind, and she was glad when the murmur of voices softened.

Sir Stirling lingered in the doorway. “Would you like refreshments, ladies?”

Lady Chastity sat on the couch to the left and looked at him through her lashes. Her expression lacked the artifice of Lady Phoebe’s when she’d looked at Lord Newhall that morning.

“Champagne,” Lady Chastity said.

Sir Stirling’s gaze softened. “Anything you wish, my dear.” His eyes lingered on her another two heartbeats before he faced Kenna. “Would you like champagne, as well, Miss Ramsay?”

She’d never tasted champagne. “Aye, thank you, sir.”

He angled his head in a slight bow, then turned and left.

Kenna half wished he had pulled the curtain.

“Come, sit beside me, Kenna.” Lady Chastity patted the cushion beside her.

Kenna crossed the alcove and sat down. The country dance ended and the orchestra began a Scottish reel. Kenna glanced through the open doorway and glimpsed the dancers.

“Do you like to dance?” Lady Chastity asked.

She nodded. “My aunt taught me. She said a lady must know three things: how to dance, how to play the pianoforte and how to speak at least one language other than English.”

“What language did you choose?”

Kenna looked at her. “Italian.” Her cheeks warmed. “I know it is the fashion to speak French, but Italian is such a warm language.”

“Have you visited Italy?”

She shook her head. “Nae.”

“Perhaps you will one day.”

Kenna covered Lady Chastity’s hand, which rested on her lap. “My lady, I will never visit Italy.” Kenna removed her hand and sighed. “I know my aunt hoped that I would come here and find a respectable husband, but none of these men will want a poor girl from Skye.”

“You have a fine pedigree,” Lady Chastity said.

Kenna blinked in surprise. She had expected her to say, ‘Any gentleman would be fortunate to have you.’ That is what her aunt always said.

“What will a fine gentleman care that my ancestor was Robert the Bruce?” she replied.

Lady Chastity laughed. “Kenna, that is not your only fine attribute.”

“The only men I attracted back home were farmers and ranchers.”

“Not surprising.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kenna blurted.

Chastity shrugged. “Most men on Skye are farmers and ranchers.”

Kenna barked a laugh, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “That was not ladylike.”

Lady Chastity grinned.

Kenna sobered. “We both know that the reason I attracted only farmers and ranchers isn’t just because they are the only men on Skye.”

“I understand there is the son of a vicar who is pining for you.”

“Jared?” she blurted, then her cheeks burned when Lady Chastity’s brows rose.

“Mister Jared Evans, that is correct.”

“How did you know about him?” Kenna asked, then said, “Of course, my aunt told you.”

“She did mention him,” Lady Chastity answered, unruffled. “She also mentioned Mister Hicks.”

“He does no’ count at all,” Kenna muttered.

“Why not?”

“I have known Michael since we were children. And Jared—Mister Evans—would never get his father’s consent to marry me.”

“Do you want him to get his father’s consent?”

Kenna grimace. “Nae. I have known him since I was ten. I could no more marry him than I could my cousin. Not to mention, Jared would never get his father’s consent to marry me.”

Lady Chastity angled her head to one side. “If you wish his consent, then leave the…details to Stirling.”

Kenna released a breath. “Even if I did want that, Sir Stirling cannot change the fact that I was born out of wedlock.”

A shadow fell across the room and Kenna looked up to find Sir Stirling entering. He stopped in front of them and offered the glasses of champagne he held.  When each of them had taken a glass, he sat on the chair near his wife. Kenna sipped her champagne. Tiny bubbles tickled her nose as she drank.

She looked at Lady Chastity in surprise. “It is delicious.”

“Indeed, it is,” she agreed. “Champagne is my favorite drink.”

Kenna drank half the glass.

Sir Stirling’s brows shot up. “I see champagne is a favorite of yours, as well.”

“It was now.” She finished the glass.

“Whoa, lass,” he said. “We have all night to drink champagne. Ye might want to drink a little slower.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks. “I should not have drunk it all?”

He shook his head. “Never apologize for enjoying yourself, Miss Ramsay.”

She returned his smile. “You are too kind.”

Movement flashed in the corner of her eye. Kenna shifted and looked up into the eyes of a tall, dark-haired gentleman.

“Good evening, my lady.” He bowed to Kenna. “Sir Stirling.”

“Hensley,” Sir Stirling said. “May I introduce our friend, Miss Ramsay? Miss Ramsay, Viscount Hensley.” 

Kenna extended her gloved hand, as Lady Chastity had taught her to do.

He grasped her fingers and bent low. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ramsay.” He held onto her hand two heartbeats longer than necessary—or so she thought—then released her and straightened. “May I have the honor of being added to your dance card?”

The dreaded dance card. She hated it. Back home, she danced with whomever asked. Here, she had to plan every dance, each conversation. Even a stroll in the park was a production.

“I have no dance card yet.”

“That means I have the honor of claiming your first dance,” he said.

“If the dance is a minuet, I cannot,” she said. He frowned, and Kenna hastily explained, “I do not know how to dance the minuet.”

His expression cleared. “If the next dance is the minuet, then we shall wait.”

She nodded. “Thank you.’

“Will you sit?” Lady Chastity invited.

He bowed. “Thank you, ma’am.” He sat on the couch opposite them. “How are you finding Inverness, Miss Ramsay?” he asked.

“It is very different in Skye,” she said.

“Indeed, it is,” he said.

“You have been there?” she asked in surprise.

“I have visited Dunvegan Castle.”

“You are friends with Laird MacLeod?”

He shook his head. “I am not so well connected. I have a friend who is a distant cousin. He invited me.”

“I have never been to Dunvegan,” she said.

“I shall take you one day,” he said.

Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. She would never be invited to Dunvegan Castle.

A man stepped into the alcove and halted.

“Mister Davis,” Lady Chastity said. “How wonderful to see you.”

“Ma’am.” He bowed. “My lord,” he addressed Sir Stirling; then, to the viscount, “Viscount Hensley.” His attention shifted to Kenna, and he said. “Good evening, Miss Ramsay. It is a pleasure to see you again. “May I have the next dance?”

“Miss Ramsay and I are about to dance,” the viscount said.

“The next, then?” the young man asked.

“One that is not a minuet,” the viscount answered before she could reply.

Mister Davis frowned—as did Kenna. Even amongst the common folk where she came from, a man did not answer for a lady.

“I beg your pardon?” Mister Davis said.

Another gentleman appeared in the doorway behind him. The young man twisted and looked over his shoulder. Kenna glimpsed his frown in the instant before he stepped out of the way and a tall gentleman entered. His wavy blond locks made her think of Thor, the god of thunder.

“Lord Wilshire.” Lady Chastity’s eyes lit. “When did you arrive in town?”

He took two steps to where she sat and bowed over the hand she offered. “Just today, my lady.” His eyes twinkled. “I hoped you would be here tonight.”

“Only Chastity?” Sir Stirling said. “I am wounded, William.”

“Your wife is far more charming than you, Stirling. No man notices you when she is in the room.”

Stirling gave an exaggerated sight. “Are you going to force me to challenge you to a duel?”

Kenna blinked. Despite the nonchalance in Stirling’s voice, she noted a slight edge to his words.

“Beware, Stirling, I am much better with a sword than I used to be,” Lord Wilshire replied without rancor.

“You know I never let such considerations interfere with a duel,” Sir Stirling said.

This time, to Kenna’s relief, laughter laced his voice.

Lord Wilshire shook his head. “I will never understand what you see in him, Lady Chastity.” His eyes remained on her. “You are fortunate to have married her before I met her, Stirling.”

“Enough,” Lady Chastity said. “There are introductions to be made. My lord, this is our friend, Miss Ramsay.”

The gentleman faced her. His eyes sparkled with devilry. “I assumed the gaggle of young bucks were here to pay homage to you, Lady Chastity. Now, I wager they are worshiping this goddess, as well. You must be the young lady everyone is talking about.” He bowed. “William Masters, at your service, Miss Ramsay.”

“Not the William Masters who shot the Duke of Moore two months ago?” she blurted.

His brows shot up.

“Your reputation precedes you,” Sir Stirling said.

Was that disapproval in his voice? She hadn’t known Sir Stirling to be anything but cordial.

Lord Wilshire swept her a deep bow. “I am humbled that you have heard of me.”

“Everyone has heard of that foolishness,” Viscount Hensley said. “You nearly killed the man.”

“In all fairness, he did try to shoot me first,” Lord Wilshire replied.

“You seduced his wife,” the viscount muttered.

“That is enough, Hensley,” Sir Stirling warned. This time, the edge in his voice was clear.

The viscount’s mouth thinned, but before he could reply, Lord Wilshire turned to Kenna, and said, “I believe the current dance is about to end. May I have the next dance?”

“You may not,” Viscount Hensley stood. “Miss Ramsay has promised me the next dance.”

Lord Wilshire’s gaze remained on her. “Pity,” he said. “I am a superior dancer.”

Kenna glimpsed the anger that flashed in the viscount’s eyes and she quickly stood. “Lord Hensley, we should go to the dance floor if we are to dance the next set.”

He hesitated, then bowed and led her from the alcove.

“You are a troublemaker, William,” she heard Lady Chastity say.

“Aye,” he replied without a hint of remorse, then Kenna was out of earshot.