Love Me Forever (7 page)

T
hree days later, Kimberly couldn’t quite believe that she was going to the Wigginses’ ball. She could have sworn she wouldn’t be ready for it in time, but she was. The St. James party was to include both Their Graces, Lady Hester—Cynthia was still pouting because she wasn’t old enough yet to attend—and Lachlan MacGregor, all of whom made the journey to London on the morning of the ball. They would be staying at the duke’s townhouse for just short of a week, since a few other London engagements had also been accepted, including yet another ball. And Lucinda and Margaret would be joining them tomorrow, along with Cynthia.

Incredibly, Mrs. Canterby had been able to create a stunning ball gown for Kimberly in only a day and a half, and another one would be delivered later in the week. With the help of an assistant or two, she had also managed to complete two day gowns before they departed that morn
ing, and more would arrive in London daily, she had promised.

With their servants along, as well as the amount of baggage that the duchess traveled with, it took two carriages besides the grand ducal coach to transport them. Even so, the duke elected to ride one of his magnificent thoroughbred horses instead, possibly because he didn’t want to be cooped up with the Highlander for the many hours that it took to get to London. Kimberly wished she could have been spared the same, but she wasn’t that lucky.

She had managed to avoid Lachlan the last two days, except at meals, which was fortunate. The morning after he kissed her, he arrived for breakfast and sneezed, repeatedly, and she had burst out laughing. It was just deserts, in her opinion, that he had caught her cold because of that kiss. But he’d been scowling at her ever since, apparently having a different opinion entirely. And she really couldn’t say why she had found it so funny, but she did. She also assumed that Lucinda had sent him one of her foul-tasting remedies, because he hadn’t sneezed much after that one time.

This morning, sitting beside him in the coach, but nowhere near him as the seat was so long, she was still able to ignore him somewhat. Megan and Hester sat on the opposite seat, and Kimberly could just imagine the looks that Lachlan was passing on to the duchess when Lady Hester wasn’t paying attention. In fact, Kimberly had no doubt that if Hester weren’t along, she would herself be ignored again and the two of them would be discussing, quite openly, his interest in
the duchess. She felt certain that he would at least make that attempt.

As it was, Megan maintained a mulish expression that indicated her annoyance with the Scotsman. The only time it left her face was when she had to turn to Hester, who kept up a steady stream of chatter, to make some reply. Kimberly was avoiding those brief conversations herself by admiring the passing scenery, or pretending to.

There was nothing scheduled for the afternoon, and in fact when they arrived in London, Megan suggested they all rest, since the ball would undoubtedly last into the wee hours of the morning. Kimberly was all for that. Trying to ignore Lachlan at such close quarters had been a strain, making the journey very tiring.

But it seemed like in no time at all, they were departing for the ball. Kimberly was actually excited, probably because, she had to admit, she had never looked quite so nice. And that wasn’t only due to her splendid gown, which fit her exceptionally well. The silver-grey satin was interspersed with powder blue lace that circled the narrow skirt at intervals and bordered the lengthy train in the back. It also draped off her shoulders and edged the deeply scooped neckline, which was the current style. A choker of the satin and lace had been made to accompany it, to which she was able to attach a lovely cameo that had been her mother’s.

But it was the coiffure that Megan’s maid had created for her that actually made her feel pretty. And to think she had fussed at the girl when she arrived with her scissors and curling irons, and had started snipping away at Kimberly’s bangs. She was apparently adept at the current hair
styles, which was why Megan had sent her to Kimberly for the ball.

By the time she was done, many long golden locks littered the floor, but the short fluff of bangs that now framed Kimberly’s face and the curls at her temples softened her features considerably. With a bit of powder and rouge added, she hardly recognized herself.

Lachlan didn’t recognize her either, not at first glance. When he stepped out of his room just as she was passing by he began a general greeting, assuming the St. Jameses had yet another new guest. She didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge even noticing him, continued to sashay down the hall, and his mouth dropped open as it dawned on him who she was.

It wasn’t often he was taken so by surprise, yet Lady Kimberly seemed to be making a habit of surprising him. He wanted to grab her back and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, looking like that. He didn’t. And he kept his mouth shut before he sounded as ridiculous as he felt.

She’d also surprised him the other night, when he first saw her smile. She was pretty when those dimples made an appearance, really pretty. And he had to wonder how that smile was going to enhance this changed appearance that gave her a unique sort of beauty. He supposed he’d find out during the course of the evening, but he
wasn’t
looking forward to the effect it would have on him.

And what surprised him the most was that the woman was affecting him in the strangest ways.

From the night she’d come pounding on his door in high dudgeon, and he’d reacted out of
proportion to it, he’d been doing his best to ignore her and concentrate on his Megan, yet he somehow couldn’t. She kept flitting through his mind when she had no business there. And that kiss they’d shared certainly hadn’t helped.

He still couldn’t understand why the urge to kiss her had been so compelling. But he certainly wished it hadn’t happened, because he couldn’t stop thinking about that either.

There was something about that kiss that he’d found highly stirring, the way she’d clung to him, the way she’d opened her mouth to his ravishment, the complete yielding of her soft, supple body against him. And for once he hadn’t gotten a stiff neck, bending to reach her lips. There were some definite benefits to kissing a tall woman, but he could have done without finding that out with his particular woman.

Tonight, he planned to further his campaign against Megan. He would have the opportunity to dance with her. She wouldn’t refuse him at such an affair. And once he held her in his arms, anything was possible. He had high hopes of breaking through her ridiculous assertion that she was happy with that stodgy Englishman she’d married. She was merely putting on a good face for what was a terrible mistake, and he meant to prove that to the both of them.

Aye, high hopes, and they did not include mulling over that shrewish, albeit lovely butterfly that just broke out of her cocoon.

“W
hat the devil? I could’ve sworn she was dancing with someone else just now.”

“Who?”

“Lady Kimberly.”

Megan nodded in a distracted manner, as if her attention didn’t just perk up. She was dancing with Lachlan only because he wouldn’t stop pestering her until she agreed. But that he could notice another woman, at least Kimberly Richards in particular, while he’d been whispering outlandish blandishments and compliments in Megan’s ear…well, she couldn’t have been more pleased.

Not that she hadn’t thought he was sincere, or rather, she was sure that
he
thought he was sincere. But for someone who’d heard just about every compliment that could be thought of, she wasn’t impressed.

She was impressed, however, by the remarkable change in Kimberly Richards, and appar
ently, so was Lachlan. And just in case he wasn’t aware of it, she decided to emphasize it.

“She
was
dancing with someone else, now that you mention it,” she said now. “They’re cutting in on her partners. Not very sporting of them, but young men are so impatient, don’t you know.”

“I dinna know,” Lachlan grumbled.

Megan smiled inwardly. He actually sounded a bit jealous. That was certainly more than she could have hoped for at this early date.

“She’s very popular, it seems,” she continued, watching his expression carefully. “Not flighty, not giggly like the younger girls tend to be, and a very good listener. Men like that in a woman. Oh, and she’s very lovely besides, if you haven’t noticed.”

He grunted. “You are verra beautiful, Megan, but I dinna see them standing in line tae dance wi’ you as they are wi’ her tonight.”

She laughed. “I should hope not. Devlin broke these young bucks of that notion long ago. But as for our Kimberly, I would imagine she’ll have a few proposals before we return to Sherring Cross. I should ask her if anyone in particular has caught her fancy yet. Perhaps you would be so good as to take me to her as soon as this dance is over?”

He nodded curtly. And she noticed his compliments had ended. Actually, he barely spared her another glance, and it was all Megan could do to keep from laughing and patting herself on her back.

This matchmaking business was really much simpler than Megan had first thought it was going to be. Either that, or Lachlan and Kimberly were simply destined for each other, no matter
what anyone did to aid them in figuring that out for themselves.

Lachlan did lead her straight to Kimberly the moment the music stopped. Dragged her there was nearly the case. And not a moment too soon. Megan knew the young gentleman about to escort Kimberly back onto the dance floor, and she quickly forestalled him, sending him after some refreshments instead. As for Lachlan…

“If you’ll excuse us now,” Megan told him in a no-nonsense tone, “I’m going to take Kimberly out for a quick turn on the balcony—”

“Nay, what would your husband be saying, darlin’,” he cut in, “if I didna lend you my protection for such a dangerous undertaking?”

Megan nearly snorted at such nonsense, but she was in fact glad he wanted to stay close. However, she didn’t want him to know that, so she shrugged and said, “Suit yourself, but do keep your distance.”

She didn’t wait for him to agree, but took Kimberly’s arm and led her outside, though not too far outside. Windbreaks had been set up along most of the balcony edges to keep the worst of the winter cold at bay. It allowed the guests an area to cool off without it being so cold that they couldn’t enjoy it for very long, but you still didn’t mistake what season it was.

Megan hadn’t actually planned to grill Kimberly about the men she was meeting, but with Lachlan eavesdropping on them, and he was doing just that, it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Kimberly?” she began, her tone merely casual.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“None of that now,” Megan admonished gently. “I’d like to think we are becoming friends, you and I, and my friends call me Megan—if not worse.”

Kimberly smiled shyly, though her eyes kept drifting to where Lachlan was standing several feet away, pretending not to be paying them any mind.

“So tell me,” Megan continued. “Have you met anyone yet that you might be interested in?”

“John Kent.”

That answer came too quickly, surprising Megan. “Well, yes, a fine young man he is. Conservative. Comes from excellent—are you quite sure? Don’t misunderstand, but he seems a bit stuffy to me.”

Kimberly couldn’t help herself. She laughed at that description, which she’d noticed for herself. “Ah, but you see, I’ve lived all my life with a—how shall I put this? Highly emotional parent.”

“A bit hot-tempered, your father?”

“Yes, exactly. So for me, stuffy isn’t so bad, it’s actually refreshing.”

“Never say so,” Megan said in mock horror. “My Devlin has occasional bouts of stuffiness, nothing like he used to have, mind you, but still every once in a while that old stuffiness comes through and drives me up a wall in no time a’tall. If you want a change from hot tempers, you’ll want a quiet sort, or better yet, someone with a nice sense of humor who’ll make you laugh a lot.”

They both glanced furtively at Lachlan at that point, who was whistling quietly to himself as if he hadn’t heard a word they’d said. Kimberly was flustered as usual, having him near. And he
was sinfully handsome tonight in his black formal wear, which made it even worse.

She had tried to concentrate on the gentlemen she was meeting, but it was next to impossible with Lachlan MacGregor in the same room. And she was disappointed too. For some reason, she’d actually expected him to ask her to dance—at least once. But he hadn’t. He’d been dancing with Megan or not dancing at all.

“There was also Howard Canston,” Kimberly mentioned. “I found him quite interesting.”

Megan frowned without realizing it. The trouble was, there wasn’t a single thing she could think of that was wrong with Canston. He was athletic, yet also active in the House of Lords, where he had taken over his father’s seat since old Canston had become ill. The family was wealthy, owning some prime properties right in London. No scandal had ever been associated with their name. And Howard was due to inherit the title of marquis as soon as his father passed on, which rumor had it, wouldn’t be much longer.

No, Viscount Canston was one of the prime catches of the season, ideally suited for any young miss, Kimberly included. He was also quite good-looking, if one liked those golden Adonis sorts.

Megan
wished
she could say something disagreeable about the chap, simply because she already had it set in her mind that Lachlan was the man for Kimberly. But she couldn’t, and to be fair, she supposed she ought to at least invite Canston to Sherring Cross in the coming weeks. And if she
had
to be fair, she might as well invite Lord Kent too. Actually, if she was going to go
that far, she might as well give Margaret the go-ahead to invite some of the young women she had come up with who would be suitable for Lachlan.

Megan sighed to herself. There were times when fairness just went against the grain, it really did.

And this was definitely one of those times. She forced herself to say, albeit a bit tersely, “Howard will make a fine husband. Anyone else?”

It wasn’t all that surprising, at that point, that Kimberly mentioned three other names. The girl was here to get married, after all, and apparently, wasn’t going to waste any time just enjoying herself.

Megan would really like to know, though, why, with such a prime specimen of manhood on hand from the very beginning, Kimberly didn’t seem the least bit interested in Lachlan. And if she was interested and just wasn’t letting on, well then, it was certainly a well-kept secret.

But that wasn’t something that could be asked at the moment, much as she wanted to. Not with Lachlan barely pretending not to be eavesdropping on their conversation.

It was a moot point, at any rate, as the balcony doors opened again to reveal Devlin standing there, filling the space. He didn’t have to look far to find them, and he was there with a purpose. Cupping a hand to his mouth, he imitated a whisper, which in fact had no trouble reaching all three of them.

“Megan, love, I need you to rescue me from Henrietta Marks, who is determined to espouse her husband’s political views to me, which all and sundry know I don’t agree with one little bit.
Be quick, she’s right on my coattails.”

He sounded huffy and expectant all in the same breath, and the expectancy won out. He didn’t give Megan a chance to answer either way, nor make the appropriate excuses to her companions. He stepped forward, gave Kimberly a generous smile, gave Lachlan no glance at all, and abruptly whisked Megan back into the ballroom.

And the first thing Megan noticed was no dragon breathing down his back, which she immediately pointed out. “I don’t see Henrietta anywhere.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he replied as he patted her hand, grinned at her, then gathered her in his arms to finish the current dance in progress. “The Markses never come to these fancy affairs.”

She was surprised for all of five seconds, then she was smiling up at him. “That was brilliant timing, if I do say so myself, allowing me to leave Kimberly and Lachlan alone out there.”

“Yes, I know,” he said rather smugly.

She raised a brow at him. “You mean you saw us go out to the balcony?”

“My dear, I am always aware of where you are and what you’re doing.”

To that she made a face. “I don’t know whether I should be extremely pleased about that, or wonder whether or not you trust me.”

“Since I trust you implicitly, I suppose you will have to settle for being pleased.”

She smiled again. “Yes, I suppose I will.”