Never Kiss a Laird (21 page)

“Rupert!”
 
Sally remonstrated as he set her back on her
feet with a thud.
 
“You are getting ahead
of yourself.
 
For one thing, you have
only known each other for a day.
 
Are you
so sure of your feelings?”

“I am
certain, Sally.
 
I could never feel this
way for another girl.”

 
“I think you had best speak to Mr. Riding,
Rupert,” Sally advised, fearing that she was sending her brother to an
interview that could only end badly.

“Of course.
 
I intended
to do so as soon as may be.”
 
He paused
with his hand on the door knob, looking back at his sister, a happy smile on
his face.
 
“Won’t you wish me happy,
Sally?”

Sally tipped
her head to one side, a rueful smile on her face. “Of course I do, Rupert.”

She watched
him leave the room, and then followed him out the door and down the hallway.
 
She was worried that Rupert was about to get
his heart broken and wished there was something she could do to soften the
blow.

As she approached
the top of the stairs, Sally saw the front door swing open, and Hugh strode
into the hall.
 
He was dressed for riding,
in tight fitting buckskins and the brown tweed riding jacket that he had worn
that day in the village
of Thorne, and his dark
hair was tousled from his ride.
 
He
looked up and saw Sally at the top of the stair, and a grin broke across his
handsome face.
 
Sally felt an answering
smile on her own face, but before Hugh could approach, Clarissa and her mother
came out of the morning
parlour
and caught sight of
him.

“My lord,”
Mrs. Riding claimed his attention.
 
“Do
not forget that you promised us a ride around your estate today.
 
The sun is shining, and we are ready to go!”
 
She pulled Clarissa forward as she
spoke.
  
“Clarissa has been talking of
nothing else all morning, isn’t that right, my dear?”

Clarissa had
been looking down at the handkerchief she was twisting in her hands, but at
this she nodded politely, trying to summon up a smile despite the tragic look
on her lovely face.
 
She was dressed in
the yellow
lustring
, and her golden hair haloed her
face becomingly.
 
Sally bit her lip at
the beautiful picture she presented, smoothing the skirt of her own black stuff
gown discontentedly.
 

The Earl
approached Clarissa and took her hand, raising it to his lips before releasing
it.
 
“Let us have a cup of coffee, and I
will see if Mr. Denham is ready to accompany us,” Hugh said, leading his guests
back into the breakfast room without another look in Sally’s direction.

Sally
watched them go, and then she sat down on the top step as her smile slowly faded
and a cold feeling settled over her.
 
Rupert might not be the only Denham sibling destined to get their heart
broken, she thought suddenly.

“Sarah
Denham, you are a fool,” she said aloud.
  
She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the line she
had lost her heart to the handsome Earl.
 
Rather than accept the role of the disgraced, compromised girl, Sally
had embraced the freedom of a fallen woman.
 
She had thought that indulging in a dalliance would be a light-hearted
fling that she could walk away from at the end.
 
Somehow, though, her heart had betrayed her, and she had fallen in
love.
 
Even as she tried to convince herself
that it was nothing more than a physical infatuation, Sally knew that was not
the case.
 
True, she had never imagined
that a world of pleasure such as she had experienced with Hugh even existed.
 
But it was so much more than that.
 
She also loved the way he smiled at her, his
ability to laugh at her maid’s masquerade without being shocked, and his quick
sympathy for Bridget.
 
He was different
from any man she had known before, and like Rupert, she very much feared that
she would never feel this way about another partner.

Watching him
kiss Clarissa Riding’s hand felt like a slap across her face, and Sally felt
unfamiliar tears pricking at the back of her eyes.
 
She had not shed a single tear from the day
that Lady Greenly had found her in Simon Atherly’s arms outside the Saracen’s
Head.
 
She had weathered the storm of
disgrace, the banishment from her family and all the trepidations of setting
out to make her own way in the world without a tear drop falling.
 

“You will
not start sniveling now, my girl,” she said staunchly, sniffing loudly.
 
“This is just another chapter in your life.
 
The Earl will marry Clarissa Riding, and you
will move to France.”
 
She reached into her pocket searching for a
handkerchief to blow her nose, and her fingers closed instead on the Earl’s
diamond stickpin.
 
She had meant to
return it to the Earl, but had completely forgotten about it.
 
She pulled it out and twisted it in her
fingers, as the light twinkled and sparkled in the glowing diamond.
 
A reminiscent smile played across her face as
she remembered that day in the cottage that Hugh had lost it, the day that she
had first given herself to him.
 
She knew
without even considering it that she had no regrets.
 
Only that it must end, and that she would
have to say goodbye to Hugh forever, that she did regret most bitterly.

Caught up in
her thoughts, she did not hear quiet footsteps approaching.

“What have
you got there,” Mr. Carr reached down and snatched the diamond stickpin from
her fingers.
 
“So that is where his
lordship’s tiepin has gotten to.
 
Thief!”

Sally jumped
to her feet.
 
“No, you are mistaken,” she
started.

“Save your
breath, miss,” Mr. Carr snapped.
 
“You
have been caught red-handed.”
 
He took
hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet.
 
“We’ll see what the Earl has to say about sneak thieves in his own
home.”
 

“You must
let me explain,” Sally expostulated angrily.
 
“I did not steal it.
 
I found it.”

“Fine
words,” Mr. Carr spat as he dragged Sally by the arm to a room at the end of
the hallway.
 
He shoved her inside and
hurriedly pulled the door to, and turned the key in the lock.
 
“You can just wait there while I call the
constable!” he called through the heavy wooden door.

Inside the
room, Sally pounded on the door.
 
“Let me
out, Mr. Carr!”
 
she
called furiously.
 
“At
once!
 
You must allow me to
explain directly to the Earl.”

“I’ll have
the police here and they can explain it to his lordship,” Mr. Carr
replied.
 
“I’ll not let you impose any
further upon my lord.”

Sally gave
the door one last, frustrated blow and then turned and looked around her
prison.
 
It was actually one of the better
spare bedrooms, a beautifully appointed room with silk hung walls, and an
ornate four poster bed.
 
The furniture
had been polished until it shone, and the floor had been fastidiously swept
clean.
 
There was a large window that
looked out over the grounds, with an old cherry tree, just starting to bud out,
one fragrant branch almost brushing the window.
 

Sally
stamped across the room and sank onto the bed.
 
This was a complete disaster! Unless she could see the Earl and enlist
his aid, she would be taken into custody as a thief.
 
Near to screaming with frustration, Sally
stormed over to the window and threw up the casement.
 
A branch of the cherry tree was within easy
reach of the window, and without pausing to consider, Sally climbed up onto the
sill.
 
Her heart was pounding.
 
Sally had never enjoyed heights, and as she
looked out the window, the ground seemed much further than one story down.
 
Screwing up her courage, and resolutely
keeping her eyes on the tree, Sally stretched one foot out, and placed it tentatively
on the branch.
 
Reaching out with a shaky
hand, she grabbed the bough and pushed off of the sill, shifting her weight
onto the tree.

“Just don’t
look down,” she muttered, as she inched herself down the branch, stepping
carefully onto the branches below until she reached the last one.
 
She was still a good six feet off the ground,
but she crouched down, wrapped her arms around the branch and swung herself
down, so that her feet dangled but a few feet from the ground.
 
Closing her eyes, she let go, and landed with
a thump, falling backwards to land in a heap.
 
She scrambled to her feet and raced for the lane, hoping to intercept
Miles so that she didn’t have to run the whole way back to
Whitethorne
cottage.

Chapter
Seventeen

“I just
can’t believe that sweet girl would do anything so wicked,” Mrs. White
exclaimed in Sally’s defense.
 
“She was a
good hard worker, and had ever such a sweet, honest face.”

“It’s a judgment
on me,” Mrs. Cameron said in a hollow voice.
 
“I never should have taken her into service without seeing her
references.”

“No one will
blame you,” Mr. Carr assured her.
 
“You
are just too trusting, Mrs. Cameron.”

Mrs. White
carried over two cups of tea, and set one in front of each.
 
“The fact remains that we have four house
guests, and are seriously under-staffed,” she bemoaned.
 
“I don’t know how I’m going to be expected to
set a decent meal before them, with only Mary to help me.
 
If only we’d had a bit more warning that the
Laird would be back so early in the year we could have been back to our normal
staffing.”

“No use
crying over spilt milk,” Mrs. Cameron told her bracingly.
 
“I’ve told Mary to get her sister up here as
soon as may be.
 
She was planning to go
into service in another year or so, and she can just get her feet wet now.”

Mrs. White
brightened at the news.
 
‘That was a very
good thought, Mrs. Cameron.”

Their
conversation was interrupted by the sound of the green baize door swinging
open, and the trio turned, expecting to see James and eager for any news.

Instead, the
Earl came into the warm room, and his three retainers leapt to their feet.
 
Mr. Carr retrieved his coat from a hook on
the wall, and hastily slipped his arms into it.

“My lord,”
he said in a respectful tone.
 
“My deepest apologies that I did not hear you ring.”

Hugh
motioned them back into their seats.
 
“I
did not ring, Carr.
 
What’s this James
has been telling me about one of the maids stealing something?”

“It’s
Aileen, sir.
 
The new
girl.
 
I found her with your
diamond stick pin.
 
You’ll remember that
we thought it was missing the other day.
 
I found her with it in her hand this morning, plain as day, and I’ve had
her locked snugly in the Blue Room ever since.
 
I sent one of the grooms for the constable, sir.
 
He must be having a time tracking him down,
for we’ve been expecting them here these four hours and more.
 
But never fear, my lord, we’ll have her in
custody before much longer.”
 
He reached
into his pocket and retrieved the glinting diamond pin and held it out to
Hugh.
 
“Let me return this to you, my
lord.”

Hugh took
the jeweled pin and regarded it thoughtfully.
 
The last time he had worn it was the morning after Rupert’s arrival, the
day he had gone to
Whitethorne
cottage to confront
Sally.
 
A rueful smile lit his brown
eyes.
 
Sally must have found it in her
bedchamber and planned to return it.
 
A
reluctant grin spread across his face at the thought of how angry his captive
probably was at this moment.

He looked up
and saw that he was being regarded with confusion, and he wiped the grin from
his face.
 
“I do not think we need to
involve the constabulary in this matter,” he said, making his face as stern as
possible.
 
“I will deal with the maid
myself.”

“But my lord!”
Mr. Carr exclaimed, shocked.
 
“She attempted to steal a very valuable
trinket.
 
She must be held responsible.”

Hugh
primmed
his mouth against an almost irresistible urge to
laugh.
 
“I will hold her,
er
, responsible, Carr.”
 
His gaze moved to Mrs. White and his expression softened.
 
When his father had been alive, kindness and
affection had been in short supply, and Hugh had escaped to the kitchen on more
than one occasion.
 
Mrs. White had an
endless supply of biscuits and treats, and was only too pleased to have the
young laird sitting at her table while she cooked.
 
He smiled at her now, and put a hand on her
plump shoulder.

“I must
thank you, Mrs. White, for rising so nobly to the occasion.
 
I know how shocking it was of me to burden
you with houseguests so unexpectedly.”
 

Mrs. White,
her eyes filling with quick tears, shook her head.
 
“Oh, no, my lord.
 
As if you couldn’t invite anyone you wanted
at any time to your own home and expect us to treat them properly.”

“You are
very good,” he smiled, and turned to include Mrs. Cameron and his butler in his
approbation.
 
“All of you.
 
And now I will go to the Blue Room and deal
with our thief.
 
Carr, the key if you
please, and may I request that you call off the police?”
 
He pocketed the key to the Blue Room, and
turned and left the room before his mirth could escape, leaving his staff to
bless themselves at their good fortune in having such a master.

He ran
lightly up the stairs, anticipation quickening his steps.
 
He paused outside the door, picturing the
rage that his red-haired beauty would have worked
herself
into.
 
He slipped the key into the lock,
turned it soundlessly, and pushed open the door.
 
Looking around expectantly, Hugh was
disappointed to find the room empty.
 
He
walked over to test the door that led to a small changing room, but it too was
firmly locked.
 
He turned in a slow
circle, and his gaze fell on the open window, the spring breeze causing the
curtains to flutter into the room, bringing in the faint scent of cherry
blossom.
 
Hugh crossed to the casement
and leaned out.
 
Yes, he thought with an
admiring whistle, Sally would have easily scrambled out onto the tree, and out
to her freedom.
 
Hugh gave a shout of
laughter.
  

He turned to
leave the room, and saw Mary poking her head into the room.

“Wherever
has she gone, my lord,” she quavered.

“I am not
sure. Mary, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my
lord,” Mary whispered, awed to be talking to the Laird.
 

“Did you
speak with Sally,
er
, Aileen, I mean, this morning,
Mary?”

“Aye, my lord.
 
She
asked about the carrier, sir.
 
She wanted
to know if I remembered where they came from.”

“And what
did you tell her,” Hugh asked patiently.

“Why, that
it was Fraser’s carrier in Lambeth sir, and she ran off and left me with all
the rooms still to tidy.”
 
Mary
sniffed,
her voice full of self-pity.

“Lambeth,”
Hugh repeated.

“Yes, my
lord.
 
On the
Clapham
road.”

“Thank you,
Mary. You have been most helpful.”

“That’s just
what Aileen said,” Mary commented, and Hugh felt himself smiling again.
 
He went directly to his bed chamber, and
pulled the bell.
 
When Carr arrived, the
Earl had changed into travelling gear, and was pulling a roll of bills from a
purse in his desk.

“Carr, I
want you to pack an overnight bag for me,” he informed the surprised
retainer.
 
Hugh reflected that he never
should have left his valet in London,
but trusted that Carr could perform this simple task for him.

“Are you
going somewhere, my lord?”

“Yes, but I
should not be gone long,” Hugh assured him.

“But your
guests, my lord,” Carr said in a shocked voice.
 
“You cannot be meaning to leave them here without a host!”

Hugh paused,
putting one hand to his chin.
 
“I had
forgotten about the Ridings,’ he mused.
 
“I will just have to ask Rupert to act as host in my stead.
 
Find him for me.”

Carr shook
his head. The Laird had never acted so impetuously before.
 
He had been very correctly brought up by the
old Earl, Carr reflected, and had never caused the staff a moment’s worry.
  
Carr sniffed, but he quickly and competently
packed an overnight bag for the Earl.
 
By
the time Hugh had sent orders for his curricle to be harnessed and brought
around, Rupert had been located and he met him in the library.

“I say,
Hugh, are you going somewhere?”

“I need to
be away from Castle Kane for a night or two, Rupert.
 
Please say all that is necessary to the
Ridings for me, and may I impose upon you to act as host for me while I am
gone?”

‘Of course,
old man,” Rupert assured him. This might provide him with an opportunity to
speak with Mr. Riding, he thought.
 
He
would have preferred to have discussed it with the Earl as well, because he had
clearly also been pursuing the blonde beauty, but this was definitely not the
time for such confidences.
 
Plenty of
time when he knew where he stood with Mr. Riding, he temporized, watching Hugh
pick up the overnight bag and stride out to the front of the Castle.

His shining,
racing curricle was awaiting him, two chestnut geldings stamping in the traces.

“By Jove, I
like your team, Hugh,” Rupert commented, distracted from his thoughts.

“Sixteen
miles an hour,” Hugh informed him, climbing up and grabbing the ribbons.
 
“Stand away,” he called to the groom, and
shot away in a swirl of dust.

Rupert
watched him go, wondering if he had the nerve to ask the Earl to teach him his
way of handling a whip, and then turned to go in search of Clarissa and her
father.

Hugh headed
his team towards
Whitethorne
cottage, and his runaway
maid.
 
He drove his team well up to their
bits, and was soon within sight of the stone cottage.
 
 
There
were no signs of activity, and when he pulled his vehicle to a stop in front of
the building, and the front door opened, he was disappointed to only see Millie
standing there, a grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders and an anxious
expression on her face.

The Earl
leapt down from the curricle, and approached.
 
“Forgive me,” he said with his charming smile.
 
“You must be Millie?”

Millie
curtseyed politely.
  
“You are the
gentleman who helped us get our carriage out of the ditch a few weeks
back.
 
How do you know my name, sir?”

“I have
become acquainted with Miss Denham, and her brother, you know, is staying with
me up at the Castle.
 
Allow me to
introduce myself.
 
I am Hugh McLeod, the
Earl of Kane.”
 
He swept her a graceful
bow and when he straightened, saw a look of consternation on her face.

“You know my
mistress’s name?
 
Did Master Rupert tell
you?
 
Oh, that thoughtless boy,” she
muttered.

Hugh
laughed.
 
“You sound very much like your
mistress.”

A twinkle
awoke in Millie’s eye but she spoke earnestly.
 
“If you know my lady’s identity, you must also know that it is most
important that it not be spread about, my lord.”

“You have
nothing to fear from me, Millie,” Hugh assured her.
 
“In fact I am here to offer my assistance to
Miss Denham.”

“Well, you
can’t,” Millie replied bluntly.
 
“She’s
off to London.”

“I see,”
Hugh murmured.
 
“I assume she went with
Tom in the gig?”

“Only as far as the next village, where she planned to hire faster
horses and a closed carriage, my lord.”
 
Millie had the ends of her shawl in her hands, nervously twisting and
releasing them.
 
“If you know so much
about my lady, you probably also know that she took in your maid when she was
dismissed.
 
She has found out where
Bridget’s lad works, and intends to reunite them.
 
Her kind heart will get her into trouble one
day.”

“Either
that, or her temper,” Hugh supplied grimly.

“No,” Millie
corrected, with a sigh.
 
“She is already
dealing with the consequences of her temper, my lord.” She gave the cottage a
distasteful look, before resuming the twisting of her shawl.

The Earl met
her worried eyes, a rueful look in his own.
 
“So, what do you recommend, Millie?
 
Do I follow, and attempt to render assistance which Miss Denham is most
likely to highly resent?
 
Or do I stay
behind, worrying that she might fall into trouble, with no one there to pull
her out again.”

Millie met
his eyes unflinchingly.
 
“When it was my
turn to make that decision, I came with her, my lord.”

“So you
did,” Hugh acknowledged.
 
“How much of a
start do they have on me?”