Chapter Seven

The mantle clock struck three. Two hours of staring at the ceiling, and Kenna still didn’t understand what had happened. What in the world had gotten into Lord Newhall? First, he’d kissed her, then he’d told Lord Wilshire to get his hands off her. Oh, lest she forget, he also insulted her. Earlier, she’d thought that he’d kissed her because he wanted her, despite not liking her. But a man who simply wanted to bed a woman didn’t challenge another man for her attention.

He could have any woman he wanted, so why bother with her? Why was Lord Wilshire chasing her, as well? Men were men, that was why. They would bed anything remotely pretty. She wasn’t vain, but neither was she stupid. She was a novelty, and being a pretty girl from the country, she was thought to be naïve. But to fight over her? That didn’t make sense. Logically, Lord Newhall should have simply waited until she was alone and talk to her.

Kenna released a breath and closed her eyes. The ticking of the clock filled the room. She didn’t have to leave Skye for Inverness just to have men try to bed her. She’d seen plenty of that on Skye. For the first time, she wondered if she’d been wrong to refuse David Cunningham’s offer of marriage. David was a good man. She simply hadn’t been able to reconcile herself to life as a squire’s wife. Yet, what was her life now?

Really, wasn’t she looking at this all wrong? How long would her aunt insist that she stay in Inverness? All Kenna had to do was refuse any offers of marriage. She gave a drowsy snort. She wasn’t going to get any offers of marriage. No fine gentleman wanted a girl born on the wrong side of the blanket, a Flower of Scotland or not.

 

Kenna woke to the chime of the clock. When the clock fell silent after the eighth chime, she rose and dressed, but stayed in her room another two hours in hopes that Lady Chastity and Sir Stirling would have left the house by the time she went down to breakfast. However, as feared, she entered the breakfast room to find Sir Stirling and Lady Chastity seated at the breakfast table. Despite the feast arrayed before them, only partially drunk coffee sat before each of them. They would never say so, but she knew they’d already breakfasted and now waited for her. Last night, Sir Stirling had sent her home in his carriage immediately after the fight, and she’d gone directly to bed. Now came her moment of reckoning.

Lady Chastity smiled at her. “Good morning, Kenna.”

Sir Stirling glanced up from the paper he was reading. “You look well this morning, Miss Ramsay.”

“Good morning,” Kenna murmured and sat at her usual place across from Lady Chastity.

“You are something of a celebrity today,” he said. 

Kenna paused in reaching for the coffee pot sitting in the middle of the table. “What do you mean?” She lifted the pot and began to fill her cup.

“You were mentioned in the paper.”

She looked up sharply. “Why?”

“It seems you are at the center of a love triangle.”

“A love triangle?” Understanding struck. “Not Lord Newhall and Lord Wilshire?”

He nodded. That same strange smile she’d seem the day before played at the corners of his mouth.

“It— The whole thing is ridiculous. There is no love triangle. There is no love, at all.”

“You know how gossip is,” Lady Chastity said. “It seldom resembles the truth.”

“Still, they did duel over you,” Sir Stirling said.

Kenna blinked. “Duel? On my honor, I did not encourage them. I don’t understand what happened. I was talking to Lord Wilshire when Lord Newhall arrived and became very angry.”

“You did tell me that Lord Wilshire tried to steal a kiss,” Sir Stirling said.

Her face warmed. “Well, he didn’t exactly kiss me. He asked if he could kiss me.”

“Did you give him permission?” Lady Chastity asked.

Chastity had asked the question with her usual calm, but Kenna couldn’t help but believe she wasn’t happy. No one liked being at the center of a scandal. Even the country folk on Skye avoided scandal.

Kenna shook her head. “I did not give him permission.”

“I wonder what angered Lord Newhall,” Lady Chastity mused.

“We were in a public parlor,” Kenna said. “I did what you said, ma’am, and didn’t go anywhere alone with a gentleman.”

“You were alone in our alcove with Lord Newhall,” Sir Stirling said.

Had there been a hint of amusement in his voice?

“And he did try to kiss you,” Sir Stirling said.

Kenna snapped her gaze onto him. “I—we—he didn’t really kiss me.”

“Did he take liberties, Miss Ramsay?” Sir Stirling asked. “I will deal with him if—”

“Nae,” she blurted. Kenna glanced from one to the other. “It was a mistake. I tripped. He caught me.”

“Tripped, did you?” Sir Stirling said in a decidedly nonchalant voice.

Kenna shifted uncomfortably.

“Did you fall into his lips?”

That was definitely amusement in his voice. In his eyes, too.

“You are making fun of me,” she said.

He smiled gently. “Only a little. But a gentleman does not take advantage of a lady.”

Lady Chastity snorted.

Sir Stirling lifted a brow. “Have you something to say, my sweet?”

She narrowed her eyes on him, then shifted her gaze to Kenna. “Did either gentleman force their attentions on you?”

Kenna shook her head. “Nae.”

To her surprise, they said no more. Kenna put eggs and ham on her plate, then sipped her coffee. Last night, she’d been kissed by one man at the party, then that man had gotten into a fight—a sword fight, no less—with another man. Yet, Sir Stirling and Lady Chastity sat drinking coffee as if nothing had happened. Even back home on Skye, if two men resorted to a sword fight to get the attention of a woman, everyone talked about it for months. Though, she’d never heard of such a thing happening. The nobility did far more outrageous things than the average person. That was, of course, because they had the money to buy their way out of trouble.

She buttered a wedge of toast and nibbled on it. Just how outrageous would she have to be in order for Sir Stirling and Lady Chastity to— Anticipation thrummed in her stomach. Might she be able to do something outrageous enough for them to send her home?

They didn’t seem overly concerned that Lord Newhall had been caught kissing her. Kenna recalled Sir Stirling’s stern attitude when she told him Lord Wilshire had only tried to steal a kiss from her. What had he said? “Much more, I wager.” Did Sir Stirling view Lord Wilshire as more of a threat than Lord Newhall? Sir Stirling had been stern with Lord Wilshire earlier in the evening. If she were caught in a more compromising situation with the marquess, Sir Stirling and Lady Chastity would surely have to send her home.

Now, how could she compromise herself without really compromising herself?

***

Kenna wasn’t the least bit surprised when Miss Davenport and three other girls pulled her aside before the other guests at the afternoon party could waylay her. She was well aware of the stares and the whispers circulating about last night’s events.

“You must tell us all about last night,” Miss Davenport said. “What was it like to have two gentlemen dueling over you?”

Kenna prevented the grimace that started to form. Sir Stirling had called the sword fight a duel. She thought the idea ludicrous, but this was exactly what she needed these women to say.

Kenna shrugged lightly and gave the reply Sir Stirling had instructed her to give, “They were not fighting over me. It was a misunderstanding between them. I simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

As expected, the girls looked at each other in obvious disbelief.

“You can trust us, Miss Ramsay,” Miss Davenport said. “Did Lord Wilshire ask you to elope with him and Viscount Newhall interceded on your behalf? Everyone knows the marquess is a terrible rogue.”

Kenna was surprised at how close Miss Davenport’s guess came to the truth. Lord Wilshire hadn’t asked her to marry him, but he had wanted a kiss—or more. He was dashing, strong, and very certain of himself. But Miss Davenport was correct, he was a terrible rogue.

“They are both very handsome,” Miss Davenport said. She glanced around as if to assure herself no one listened, then whispered, “Did either of them make assignations with you?”

“I really shouldn’t talk about what happened,” Kenna said demurely.

The women exchanged glances.

“How I wish I had been there,” another girl said, her voice dreamy. “I would just die if either Lord Newhall or Lord Wilshire fought over me.”

Kenna refrained from rolling her eyes. The girls were young, no more than nineteen, if she had to guess. She had been just as doe-eyed at that age. Well, perhaps at fifteen.

Two gentlemen entered the room. Sir Stirling and—

“Lord Newhall,” Miss Davenport cried.

The other girls’ heads snapped toward the door.

The room, Kenna realized, had gone quiet.

What in the world was Sir Stirling doing with the viscount? Did Sir Stirling want her to speak with Lord Newhall? A horrifying thought struck. If she were alone with a gentleman, might Lord Newhall challenge that gentleman as he had the marquess? If he did… Nae. It couldn’t be.

She noted no tension between Sir Stirling and Lord Newhall. Lord Newhall looked their way. Sir Stirling’s eyes shifted onto Kenna before he said something to the viscount, then they veered toward her. Kenna’s heart galloped. Lord help her, the last thing she wanted to do was talk with Lord Newhall.

“They are coming this way,” Miss Davenport whispered.

The girls giggled. Kenna wanted to melt into the floor. What would she say to the man?

The men reached them, and Sir Stirling said, “Ladies.”

The girls all curtsied and murmured, “Sir Stirling” and “Lord Newhall.”

“A pleasure, ladies,” Lord Newhall said.

“Miss Ramsay, you remember Lord Newhall.”

Kenna wanted to laugh. She curtsied. “My lord.”

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Ramsay,” he said as if he hadn’t fought Lord Wilshire last night.

Kenna burned to ask what had gotten into him. But the last thing she needed was to make a fool of herself in front of these girls. Any misstep on her part would reach the rumor mill within the hour.

“If you are looking for Lady Chastity, Sir Stirling, I believe she is in the card room down the hall.” Kenna pointed to the hallway to their left.

He smiled. “I believe I will see how she is doing. Ladies.” He angled his head toward them, then said to the viscount, “Newhall.”

Lord Newhall angled his head and, to her chagrin, Sir Stirling left him standing with them. Kenna held her breath. Which of the silly girls would be the first to mention last night? Society was supposed to have better manners than country folk, but Kenna suspected that if the gossip was juicy enough, curiosity would win out over manners every time.

“We hope you were not harmed in last night’s sword fight,” Miss Davenport said.

Not a single one of the girls reprimanded her. She stared, eyes wide in anticipation.

“I am unharmed, as is Lord Wilshire. Think nothing of the disagreement. You know how we men are, we love a good—”

“Disagreement,” Kenna interjected before catching herself.

His gaze shifted to her. She was startled to note how dark his eyes appeared. She hadn’t noticed that before. And his gaze was, well, downright forceful. Her cheeks warmed.

“Aye, Miss Ramsay,” he said. “Disagreement.”

The devil possessed her, and she said, “Have you settled your disagreement?”  before she could stop herself.

A glint appeared in his eyes. “I believe Lord Wilshire comprehends my position.”

His position?

“I’m immensely relieved you are unharmed, my lord,” Miss Davenport said. “I am certain Lord Wilshire deserved the thrashing you gave him.”

“Indeed,” Lord Newhall said, his eyes still on Kenna. “Miss Ramsay, could I get you some punch?”

She blinked. He wanted to fetch her punch? Kenna stared. Dear Lord, did he still intend to pursue her?

He winged an arm toward her. She wanted to refuse, to tell him to go straight to the devil, but those were the low manners of a country girl who didn’t know better. Kenna kept her expression neutral and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

He angled his head toward the girls. “Ladies.” Without another word, he led her away.

***

Out of earshot of the young ladies, Bryson said to Miss Ramsay, “You are angry with me.”

“What would give you that idea?” she said in a too-sweet voice.

“Wilshire does not have honorable intentions when it comes to any lady.”

She looked up at him. “Really?”

There was that too-sweet voice again.

“You know he is a man not to be trusted?” he asked. Before she could answer, he added, “Then why were you alone with him in the parlor?”

Her eyes narrowed. “It is really none of your concern what I was doing with Lord Wilshire.”

“If you care for your reputation—”

“I do not think you are in a position to lecture me on how to care for my reputation.”

Two gentlemen glanced their way, and her cheeks pinked. Bryson directed her away from the men, past three ladies seated at a card table, toward the table where refreshments awaited in the corner of the room.

They reached the table and privacy. “You would be wise to stay away from Lord Wilshire.”

“I believe you are truly daft.”

He paused in reaching for a crystal punch glass and looked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“If you are looking for a girl to thrill with your domineering attitude, then look no further. With the slightest encouragement, Miss Davenport and her friends would worship at your feet.”

He stiffened.

“The grand ladies here in Town clearly are enthralled with your handsome face, broad shoulders and deep voice. But I dinnae like being ordered around by any man.”

“You forgot my money,” he said.

She frowned. “What?”

“You forgot my money. Ladies are enthralled with my money. I am very rich.”

Her expression darkened. “Forgive me. How could I overlook your best quality?” She whirled and stormed away.

Bryson stared until she disappeared beyond the open balcony doors. He sighed and set down the cup he’d picked up. This falling in love thing wasn’t going to be easy.