A Kiss for Lady Mary (21 page)

Her partner for the fourth dance led her to the floor. “Lady Mary, you are the most beautiful woman here.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She wanted to roll her eyes. In addition to being forward, all the gentlemen said the same thing. It was nothing but flummery. She almost wished to be complimented on her garden . . . by anyone but Kit, that was. When he told her she looked well, he was sincere. Mary turned her attention back to the young peer whose name she’d already half forgotten.

Sometime later, Mary stole a surreptitious glance at her dance card. Thank God. Only one more set until the supper dance.

Soon a middle-aged gentleman bowed before her. “My lady, I believe this is my dance. However, if you’d rather stroll the room, I’m perfectly happy to oblige.”

She fanned herself. Despite the doors and windows being open, the room was stuffy and hot. Now if only she could remember his name without having to peek at her dance card. “I’d like that extremely.”

“Mr. Grant,” Lady Theo said, “as you are not joining this set, would you be so kind as to arrange glasses of lemonade for Lady Mary and me?”

“My pleasure, my lady.” He walked away, hailing a footman.

“You do not want to consider him, my dear,” Lady Theo whispered in her ear. “He is a widower with five thousand a year and four children. All girls. The first one comes out next year.”

Mary bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Thank you for your advice. I shall keep it in mind.”

Mr. Grant returned her to Lady Theo just before Kit came to fetch her for the waltz. Once he took her hand, she felt as if she were in a different world. Did he feel the same? She desperately wanted him to. Yet how to know? He was as polite as always, but she wanted more.

 

Simon had waited in a shadow by the stairs to the ballroom until he saw Morna, his son, and his daughter enter. His stomach clenched as if he’d been struck. Cormac was tall and strong, just as Simon thought he’d be. Finella reminded him of Morna when she was younger. Sixteen, to be exact. He made the mental calculations. Finella was barely the same age. What the hell was Morna doing bringing their daughter out now? The girl was too young. He took a closer look, and Finella appeared ill at ease. This might not be her first adult entertainment, but it would certainly be her last for at least two years. No daughter of his would be allowed to marry at sixteen.

Wanting to see the shock on Morna’s face when she saw him, wanting her to suffer as he had over the years, he’d thought to approach her boldly when she arrived. Yet he hadn’t considered how the rest of Edinburgh’s Polite Society would respond, or the embarrassment he could cause his sister and her guests. Therefore, he skirted the edge of the room as his family made their way through the crowd, and waited.

His son approached Lady Mary and was introduced, only to be turned away as she gave him a polite smile. Apparently, Cormac had not arrived in time to obtain a dance. Other gentlemen, the vultures, began to gather around Finella as Morna smiled and performed introductions. It was all Simon could do to stop himself from dragging his daughter away.

He crossed the ballroom, moving behind the pillars which separated the center on each side from small alcoves, potted palms, and enough cover to take Morna unawares.

While his wife stood off to the side, his children had partners and were forming the set for a country dance. When he was close enough to almost touch her, he placed his lips close to her ear. “Morna, I’ve come for you and our children.”

Her head whipped around, and her eyes grew wide. She opened her mouth, and promptly swooned. Simon caught her before she slid to the wooden floor.

Theo was there in an instant. “Why in the name of heaven,” she said in a disgusted tone, “could you not have approached her from the front? At least it would have given her a little time to accustom herself to your being here.” He lifted Morna into his arms. “For the love of God, Simon, I don’t think you’ve changed a bit.” Theo glanced around. “Come through this door. There is a parlor, and I pray it’s empty. Carrying her through the ballroom will cause talk.”

“I don’t care,” he growled. Claiming his family was the only thing that mattered, and that included his wife. Damn him for an idiot. He loved her as much now as he ever had.

“You may not,” his sister snapped, “but I do. Follow me. What were you thinking? Or were you?”

“I didn’t want to give her a chance to deny me.”

Ignoring him, Theo strolled toward a door painted with the same mural that covered the walls of the entire room. He held Morna tightly as if she’d awaken and jump out of his arms.

Theo opened the door, shoved him in, and glanced around. “Put her on the chaise. I’ll procure some water.”

The door closed, leaving him and his wife in the dimly lit parlor. He chafed her hands. “Morna, come back to me, my love.”

Her lashes fluttered. A moment later, her lovely green eyes, the color of new leaves, opened. “It is you, Simon? I thought I was seeing a ghost.”

“Mayhap a ghoulie?” He stroked her jaw and leaned down to kiss her. She smelled of heather and rosemary, as she had before. All thoughts of revenge on her were forgotten as he pressed his lips to hers.

“Ye do not understand, Simon.” Tears filled her eyes. “I thought ye were dead.”

“D
ead!”
Simon raked his fingers through his pitch-black curls.

“Where did you get a daft idea like that?”

Morna reached out, stilling his hand. She quickly gave thanks that he was back in her life. This time, she wouldn’t let anyone separate them. “When ye disappeared, that’s what my da told me.”

“I didn’t disappear.” His deep blue eyes flashed with anger. “I sent you a message asking you to come with me to America.”

Her throat closed so tightly, she had to force the words through it. “I should have known it was a lie.” She brushed angrily at a tear traveling down her cheek. “I swear to you, Simon, I would have come. I’ve loved you since I first set eyes on you.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “I should have listened to the voice in my head that told me to fetch you. Instead I allowed my foolish pride to think you’d rejected me.”

“Oh God, Simon. Never in a million years would I stop loving you.” She threw her arms around him, pulling him down to her.

His lips touched Morna’s. Gently at first, but long-denied desire surged within her, and she needed more. She clutched the back of his neck. Opening her mouth, she trailed her tongue along his lips, sucking the lower one.

Simon moaned. “God, Morna. I’ve missed you.”

Stretching out on the chaise, he half covered her as she explored. He tasted of finely aged, smoky Scotch whisky. She pressed one palm to his chest. It was so much harder than before. She wanted the waistcoat and shirt gone. “Where are you staying? I’ll come to you.”

“There is something I must tell you.”

His tone was so serious, her heart squeezed as if she’d been dunked in a cold loch. Surely nothing could keep them apart now. “What?”

Before he could answer, the door slammed against the wall.

“What the devil is going on here?” Cormac closed the door before striding toward them.

Morna struggled to sit up as Simon rolled gracefully to his feet. Her son, their son stopped and stared. His eyes widened in recognition. After all, the boy had been shaving for a couple of years now. “Who are you?”

“I’m—”

“Simon,” she begged, “don’t. Please, not here—”

“He has my face, my love.” He kissed her hand then turned back to Cormac. “I’m your father.”

His countenance flushed. “Ye mean I’m your bastard, don’t ye?”

“Not at all.” Morna was surprised at how calm Simon was being. “Your mother and I were legally married nine months before you were born.”

Morna was thankful she was sitting down. If not, she would have fallen over. Yet how could that be, and why hadn’t Simon said anything before? Why had he left her . . . ?
Twice!
“We cannot be wed.”

“Nevertheless, the fact remains that we are.” He motioned Cormac to a nearby chair, sat next to her, and held her hand as he met her gaze. “My only regret is that I didn’t know it until a few months ago.”

A throbbing had started behind her eyes. “I don’t understand. My father told me it wasn’t legal.”

A look of undisguised hate passed over Simon’s mien. “As he told me. Unfortunately for us and our children, he was more interested in the outcome he wanted than the facts. A couple of months ago in New York, I ran into a couple who were at the inn when we married. They asked about you, which led to a conversation regarding Scottish marriage laws. I did some research, and they were correct. Our marriage was and is legal.” He brushed his thumb over her brow, soothing the pain that had started in her head. “It amazes me how gullible and stupid I was.”

What a fool she’d been as well. “Ye weren’t the only one,” she said in her driest tone. Her heart ached thinking of all the years they’d lost. Disgust curled her stomach. The next time she saw Father, she would spit on him. If she ever consented to have anything to do with him again. “I even told old MacDiarmid, hoping he’d not take me to wife. The old bastard just laughed.”

Cormac paced the small room—it hardly seemed large enough for father and son—and finally he stopped. “A fine mess this is.” He ran his fingers through his hair as Simon had done not long ago. “The question is, what do the two of you plan to do about it?”

Simon raised a brow, and in a deadly calm voice, responded, “I intend to claim my family.”

 

Kit made his way across the crowded ballroom toward Mary. As she had been years ago, she was surrounded by a group of gentlemen. However, this time nothing would stop him from claiming her.

“Mr. Featherton.” His hostess placed her hand on his arm. “Would you be so kind as to dance with Miss Innes?”

He shook his head and said what he should have done years before. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I have already engaged a partner for this set.”

Leading Mary out to the dance floor, he ignored other gentlemen as they muttered. He twirled her in his arms, being careful to keep the proper distance between them.

“Are you having a good time?” she asked.

“I am now.” He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all evening. “And when we danced before.” She blushed, but didn’t say a word. “Other than that, it appears as if I’m expected to do the pretty with all the other ladies here.” He lowered his voice, ensuring only she could hear him. “I am amazed at how forward even some of the young women are.”

“I’ve noticed the gentlemen are the same. It must have to do with the weather.”

His jaw tightened. “If any of them behaves inappropriately, I’ll be happy to refresh their manners.”

It would please him even more to rearrange their features for them.

Her gaze focused on his, and he was lost in her molten silver eyes as she smiled. “Thank you. I shall keep your offer in mind.”

“Shall we make plans for to-morrow?” There might not be a promenade, but he wouldn’t put it past some rogue to ask her to go riding.

“Let’s do.” She smiled. “Shall we visit Holyrood Palace?”

“I think that is a wonderful idea. We must tell Lady Theo so she can return you in time.” Still feeling ill used over the last time they’d made plans, he continued. “I had no idea morning visits would take so long.”

“Neither did I.” Mary grimaced. “It presented problems I was not prepared for.”

So he’d heard. Anna had voiced her disapproval to her husband about the experience. “Perhaps we should make the tour in the morning. That way we won’t have to rely on anyone remembering to return you to the house.”

She nodded as he fought his urge to hold her closer, tighter as they made the turn.

“I don’t believe I’ll be missed on the rounds.”

Which meant, if he planned it right, he could have her for the whole day. If only he could monopolize her evenings as well.

 

With Finella in tow, Theo returned to the parlor. She glowered at Simon for a moment before taking a chair and pointing to another one. “Sit, lass.”

Finella’s large green eyes, exact replicas of her mother’s, flicked from her brother to Simon, as she sank onto a chair next to the chaise. Simon wondered if she was always this quiet, or if it was merely the circumstances. He could murder Morna’s father for having robbed him of the chance to know his children.

His son stood stock still, staring at the wall, until he refocused his gaze on Simon. “I remember you.” Cormac dragged a chair over close to the chaise. “You were the man who taught me how to tickle a trout and skip stones.”

Simon’s throat tightened as he fought back tears. “You were so young. I never even allowed myself to hope you’d recall.”

“My love.” Morna’s soft voice stole into the moment. “Mayhap we should tell your sister and Finella, and then figure out how we’re going to handle this.”

He made quick work of the explanations.

His sister covered her eyes for a few moments before saying, “I should have known.”

“How could you?” Simon asked. “I didn’t know until recently.”

A soft smile graced her countenance. “I should have known you’d never take advantage of a girl. It’s so easy to marry here, yet it never occurred to me to ask the right questions.”

Brows drawn together, Finella gave every appearance of listening thoughtfully. Finally she focused on her mother. “This means I don’t have to marry right away, and I can go home, doesn’t it?”

“Home is a bit of a problem at the moment.” Cormac grimaced. “I suppose we’ll have to find and contact the rightful baron . . . as it’s not me.”

“Where will we live?” Finella asked.

“I have some ideas.” Simon smiled at her. “However, until the legalities can be worked out, we’ll be safer at my father’s estate near Hull.”

“Aye.” Cormac nodded. “My grandfather will be fit to be tied when he hears about this.”

Several moments passed in silence before Morna rose. “For the time being, we should go back to the town house I leased, and decide how to deal with all of this.”

Theo stood, shaking out her skirts. “Go out through the door next to the fireplace. That will lead you to the hall. I’ll make your excuses.” She glanced at Morna. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to spend the day with Finella to-morrow while you sort this out.”

Simon watched his wife, wondering if she’d know that was his sister’s way of welcoming Morna and the children to the family.

“Thank you,” she replied. “It would be a great help, and she should come to know her father’s side of the family.”

Once in the hall, Cormac called for the coach.

As they waited, Simon stood next to his son. “I’m sorry to be the cause of your losing your title.”

His son shrugged in resignation. “It seems to me it was my grandfather and the old devil’s fault. They had to have known your marriage was legal. I’m more worried about how it will affect Fee. There is bound to be a major scandal.”

“My family is highly placed, and from what I understand, you have all lived quietly. Wherever we go, we won’t remain in Scotland; somehow we’ll find a way to minimize talk.”

Cormac quietly studied the marble floor for a moment, then glanced up at Simon. “Who
am
I now, though?”

“Your name is Mr. Cormac Cavendish. Grandson of the Duke of Gordon. Who you are is whoever you wish to be.”

 

The next morning, Kit handed Mary into his curricle, then dashed back into the house for the all-important guidebook.

“Where have Kit and Mary gone?” Kit heard Huntley ask from the breakfast room.

“I believe they are viewing Holyrood Palace to-day,” Caro answered.

“What the deuce is he trying to do? Bore the woman to death?”

Caro’s laughter floated on the air. “No, my love. He’s trying to keep her away from all the other gentlemen.”

Kit was indeed. The only problem was he didn’t know if Mary liked his company as a suitor or merely a friend. The latter was not what he wanted. Somehow he’d have to make her see him as a potential husband.

Forty minutes later, they reached the palace.

“It’s beautiful,” Mary said, staring up at the façade.

“I’ve heard the French renovated the King’s chamber when the Count d’Artois was here. Did you know he used the abbey sanctuary to avoid his creditors?” Thankfully, Kit had read the guidebook.

“I did hear something about it, though I was too young to understand it at the time.” He lifted her out of the curricle. “I love that they allow debtors to remain there and not go to prison.”

“I take it you do not agree with the current law.”

“Definitely not. It seems to me to be grossly unfair.”

He led her through the main door, and handed the porter the entrance fee. “I agree. The inability to manage one’s funds should not be a crime. What would you like to see first?”

“The Queen’s chambers. I hear they are magnificent.”

They spent the next two hours touring the inside of the sixteenth-century palace, before strolling through the courtyard garden. He was surprised, and pleased, to find almost no one else present. “Mary, I believe there is to be a drum this evening. Will you save me the same waltzes as last night?”

“I’d be delighted to.” She glanced up at him, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Won’t the hostess be upset?”

He held back an exasperated growl. “They’ll have to make do.”

As they were about to stroll back to the carriage, the sound of tittering could be heard. “Don’t look now, but I think we’re about to be invaded.” He tightened his grip on Mary. “Whatever happens, don’t let go of me.”

Kit seemed so appalled Mary wanted to chuckle, until she saw the trio approaching. The one in the lead was the young lady she had attempted to warn off yesterday.

“Oh, Mr. Featherton!” A girl dressed in a profusion of lace and ruffles quickened her step. “How unexpected to see you here.”

Unexpected, my foot
. The two ladies with the girl giggled, giving lie to her exclamation of surprise. How on earth did they find him? They must have learned where she and Kit were during morning visits.

He bowed. “Indeed, Lady Mary and I were just leaving. Enjoy the gardens.”

The girl’s face fell ludicrously, and it was all Mary could do not to laugh as Kit steered her quickly down the path toward the palace. If she had acted like that during her first Season, no wonder he hadn’t given her the time of day. “One would think they’d still be engaged in morning visits.”

“Obviously”—he shuddered—“someone forgot to lock them in, and they escaped.”

“Oh dear.” She fought to force down the burble of laughter. “I never thought to hear you say anything like that.”

“I’ve never been chased quite as diligently as I was last night.” Kit gave her a rueful smile. “One young lady even attempted to follow me to the gentlemen’s retiring room. It’s enough to put one off the Season.” Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long for the curricle to be brought around. “I have much more sympathy for my friends who’ve had ladies set their caps at them.” Once they were seated on the bench, his brow furrowed as he threaded the ribbons through his fingers. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you, dodging your cousin.”