Never Kiss a Laird (23 page)

She met the
eyes of the young boy who appeared to be about ten years of age.
 
He doffed his cap, and gave her a cheeky
grin.
 
“Can you spare sixpence,
miss?
 
I’m ever so hungry.”

Sally pulled
at the strings of her reticule, thinking to give the boy a coin.
 
She knew that he was probably a professional
beggar, and that it would be in her best interest to turn and walk back to the
carrier’s yard at once.
 
But she couldn’t
tolerate the thought that he might really be hungry and without means.
 

Sally
reached into her bag, and was horrified as her hand continued down and through
a neat slit in the bottom of her bag.
 
She looked at her hand, emerging from the bottom of her empty reticule,
and her heart stopped.
 
“I’ve been
robbed,” she said blankly.

“Shame,
that,” the boy shook his head in mock sympathy.
 
‘Can’t trust anyone these days!”
 
He ran off, laughing, leaving Sally standing
in the street, open mouthed.

She had
heard tales of the cut-purses who lurked in the city.
 
These individuals approached the unsuspecting
and, using a very sharp knife, slit open pockets and purses, allowing the fat
purses inside to fall into their waiting hands.
  
An icy feeling settled over Sally.
  
All her money had been in that leather
pouch.
 
With it gone, how could she
continue in the little cottage?
 
 

A deep anger
started to bubble within her.
 
When was
her bad luck going to stop?
 
First it was
Lady Greenly and her vicious tongue.
 
Then it was Clarissa Riding and her perfect profile.
 
And now some unsavory thief with one uncaring
slash of his
knife,
had taken away Sally’s entire
means of independence.
  

She wanted
to scream, but instead she retraced her steps back to the carrier’s yard.
 
She didn’t even have enough money to pay for
the rooms that Miles had gone to bespeak for her.
 
 
When
Miles came back for her they would have to start immediately back for the
cottage, and sleep along the road somewhere.
 
She thought about Miles and Millie.
 
She had led them away from everything they knew to live with her in the
cottage in Scotland,
and wait with her until she could assume her fortune.
 
 
How
could they live without any funds?
  
She
thought about the time they had spent at
Whitethorne
cottage; the cold rooms, the lumpy oatmeal, and more bowls of root vegetable
stew than she could count.
  
Whitethorne
cottage had been her sanctuary, though, the
place where she had let fall the burden of reputation and shame, and had
embraced a freedom that she could not have imagined in her previous life.
 
Sally closed her eyes and pictured Hugh
McLeod, the Earl of Kane, disheveled and smiling after making love in the small
room at the top of the stairs.
 
Yes, she
thought,
Whitethorne
cottage was indeed her
home.
 
Sally paced up and down, her brow
furrowed, trying to find a way out of her predicament.

It was
another half an hour before Miles approached Sally, as she stood with her arms
wrapped around herself, shivering slightly in the evening air.

“I’ve put
the team into a respectable stable, Miss Sally,” he informed her.
 
“And it’s just a step around the corner to
the George.
 
Has Bridget found her
Robbie, then?”

“She has,
Miles, and he was just as happy to see her as she was him.”
 
she
replied, giving
the good news first.
 
“But something
dreadful has happened, Miles.
 
I have
lost all our money.”
 
She held up her
reticule, with the slit across the bottom.
 
“I can’t imagine how I could have been so stupid.
 
Oh Miles, I’ve let you and Millie down.”

Miles took
Sally’s hands and led her over to a nearby bench.
 
“Well, miss, I’ll not deny that’s a blow.”

“I know,
Miles.
 
I was foolish to carry all of my
funds with me, but it seemed as if the safest thing was to have it on my person
at all times.
 
I am so sorry!”

“You’ll
think of something,” Miles said encouragingly.

“I have.”
Sally said grimly.
 
“I have turned over
every scenario in my mind.
 
If I return
to
Whitethorne
cottage, we would all have to seek
positions.
 
And there is the added
complication that I am in danger of being taken into custody for stealing the
Earl’s tiepin should anyone from Castle Kane see me.
 
No, there is only one option, Miles.
 
I will have to return to my grandmother.
 
I will bring Millie with me, and I will try
to find a way to get us back to
Whitethorne
cottage.
 
Maybe I can find a way to get
to London and
talk to my father’s man of business.
 
If
I could just access my inheritance, we would be set.
 
But I can’t think of any way to do that
unless I return to my grandmother.”
 
She
raised troubled eyes to her faithful groom.
 
“Miles, I will ask the Earl to employ you until I turn twenty-one,
unless I can find a solution sooner, and then I will form an establishment of
my own and promise that I will take you back.”

“Miss
Sally,” Miles objected. “I have a little money laid aside.
 
And if I find work, we could get by.”

“No, Miles,”
Sally shook her head firmly.
 
“I thought
I could make a go of it, but I have made so many mistakes. It won’t be that
bad.”
 
A rueful smile crept into her
eyes.
 
“My grandmother is more to be
pitied than I am.
 
Come, you must bid
Bridget farewell and get the team back from the livery stable before we incur
the charges of stabling them overnight.
 
Hopefully that will leave us with enough money to change horses and get
back to
Whitethorne
cottage.”

Miles stood,
and pulled her to her feet.
 
“Well, miss,
I’ve never seen a jump you couldn’t get over yet.
 
It may take you a little longer than you
thought, but I have no doubt you’ll figure this puzzle out, one way or another.”

Sally
smiled, and gave her friend a quick hug.
 
“Thank you, Miles.”

Chapter
Nineteen

Miles tooled
the little gig up the drive to Waverly, and as they reached the front steps, he
pulled up and turned to his mistress.

“Are you
sure,
miss
?”
 
he
asked, seeing the look on Sally’s face.
 
“We could go back to
Whitethorne
cottage right now.
 
We’ll find a way to
get by.”

Sally
straightened her shoulders.
 
“I am quite
sure,” she replied, trying to sound like she meant it.
 
“Here is a letter for you to give to the
Earl.
 
I have asked him to employ you until
I come of age.
  
That is only a little
more than a year, Miles. After Millie has packed up our things, please bring
her here, and then go to the Earl.
 
You
can stay at the cottage for the remainder of our tenancy if you prefer that to
the servants’ accommodations at the Castle.
 
You know that we still have almost ten months on the lease.”

She climbed
down from the gig, and took Miles’s hand in hers.
 
“Oh, I will miss you, my dear friend.
 
If I am allowed to ride, I will come find you,
if I can, to say hello.”
 

Miles
released her hand, and pulled at the brim of his cap, his eyes suspiciously
moist.
 
He leapt down and pulled her bag
from the back of the gig, and then with a snap of the reigns, he drove off.

Sally
watched him go, and then turned and looked up at her grandmother’s imposing home.
 
She took a deep breath and then trod
resolutely up the big stone steps and rapped the knocker against the massive
front door.
 
She heard the echoing sounds
within, and after a few minutes the door was thrown open, and Marsters stood
before her.

“May I help
you?” the very correct butler uttered in depressing accents.
 

Sally met
his eye.
 
She might have to seek refuge
at her grandmother’s house, but she would die before she would act as if she
were ashamed of herself.
 

“Marsters,”
she exclaimed confidently.
 
“It has been
so long since I was here last, that I fear you do not recognize me.
 
Please tell my grandmother that Miss Sarah
Denham has arrived.
 
I was expected a few
weeks ago, and must apologize for my late arrival.”

Dumbfounded,
Marsters stepped back, and ushered Sally into the entryway.
 

“Miss
Denham,” he repeated, stunned.
 
“We did
indeed expect you several weeks ago.”
 
He
scanned the driveway, expecting to see a carriage, or at the very least, some
baggage.
 
“Your bags, miss?”

“They will
be arriving later, along with my maid,” Sally informed him, as if this were
entirely normal.
 
“I would like to see my
grandmother, if you please.”
 

“My lady is
laid down upon her bed, Miss Denham.
 
I
don’t dare interrupt her afternoon nap.”

“Oh,” Sally
said, feeling a little deflated.
 
She
dreaded trying to explain her delay to her grandmother, and wanted to get it
over with as quickly as possibly.
 
“Well,
in that case, would you direct me to my room, so that I may freshen up, please?”

“I’ll just
need to talk to the housekeeper, miss,” Marsters informed her.
 
“Would you mind waiting in the morning room,
miss?
 
There is a nice fire in there, and
I will let the Viscount know that you are here.”

Sally
blanched further. “My father is here?’

“Yes, miss,
and the Viscountess as well.”

Sally closed
her eyes.
 
Just my luck, she
thought.
 
Opening her eyes, she saw that
Marsters was eyeing her nervously, and she laughed suddenly.
 
If fate wanted to test her metal, so be
it.
 
“Excellent,” she said staunchly, if
untruthfully.
  
She allowed herself to be
shown into the morning room, and as Marsters went to find her parents, she
stood warming her hands in front of the fire.

Moments
later the door flew open, and her father stood in the doorway, looking at her
with disbelief.
 

“Sally!” he
exclaimed, coming forward to pull her into a tight embrace. “I have been so
worried, my dear.”
 
Sally wrapped her
arms around him, sighing in relief.

“I am so
sorry, Papa,” she uttered.
 
Raising her
head, she met her mother’s eyes.
 

Lady Denham
was not smiling.
 
“Well, miss.
 
You have returned.
 
Marsters informs us that you arrived without
your maid, or luggage, or any escort whatsoever.
 
Will you have the goodness to tell us where
you have been for the past weeks?”

Sally let go
of her father and clasped her hands together.
 
“I apologize for worrying you both,” she said gently.
 

“That does
not answer my question,”
 
Lady Denham
returned acidly.
 

Sally smiled
ruefully.
 
“No, it doesn’t.”
 
She had no intention of telling her mother
about the little cottage on the estate of the Earl of Kane.
 
No mention would be made of the Laird.
 
That memory was
hers,
and hers alone.
 
That was one promise
Sally had made to herself, and she had no intention of breaking it.

A tap at the
door was followed by the entrance of Lady Waverly’s housekeeper, ready to
escort Sally up to the room that had been prepared for her.

“We will
speak further on this topic,” Lady Denham warned Sally. “Now go up to your
room.
 
We dine at five.
 
If your bags have not arrived by then, you
will dine in your room, until you are able to appear more appropriately
dressed.”

 
Sally made good her escape, and as she trod up
the sweeping staircase, she heard the sounds of a vehicle approaching.
  
Miles could not possibly have retrieved
Millie so quickly.
 
Sally did not know
whether to hope that her grandmother was expecting visitors or not.
 
On the one hand, a dinner party would ensure
that conversation was kept on neutral topics, but on the other it would merely
postpone further her interview with her grandmother, which Sally had to admit
she was both dreading and wanting over as soon as possible.
 
She followed the housekeeper to the room she
had been allotted, and with a very few minutes Sally forgot about the latest
arrival in the pleasure of the first hot bath she had enjoyed in weeks.

Lady Waverly
sat before her dressing table, a satisfied look on her pinched face.
 
She watched critically as her maid arranged
two diamond pins in her elaborate wig, and waited while the woman brushed a
hare’s foot across her face, dusting pale powder over her papery skin.
 
She stood up, leaning heavily on her ornate cane,
and allowed the maid to take her arm and lead her out of her room, along the
broad hallway and down the sweeping stair to the main floor.
  
She paused before the drawing room door,
dismissed her maid, and prepared to make a grand entrance.
 

Seldom had
she felt so vindicated.
 
Her disgraced
granddaughter had come crawling back for forgiveness, just as she had known she
would.
 
Lady Waverly had been laid down
upon her bed for her customary nap when Sally had appeared at Waverly.
 
The shameless
girl had the
effrontery to walk up to the door, rap on the knocker, and request
an
audience with her grandmother.
 
Of course
the staff knew better than to interrupt Lady Waverly’s nap, and Sally had been
ushered into the morning
parlour
, and her parents had
been notified.
 
What had happened in that
interview, Lady Waverly had not yet heard, but she knew her daughter well
enough to believe that her granddaughter would not have enjoyed it.

A grim smile
twisted her lips, and she pushed through the door.
  
Lady Waverly paused, and her daughter came
forward to take her arm.
 
Neither
Viscount Denham nor his daughter had as yet come down, and the Viscountess was
the sole occupant of the room.

“Good
evening, Mama,” Regina Denham met her mother’s eyes, and the two women shared a
knowing look.
 
 
“The most amazing thing has occurred.”

“Yes, I have
heard that your daughter has returned,” Lady Waverly nodded complacently.

“Better by
far than that,” Lady Denham almost purred.
 
“Simon Atherly has arrived as well, and he still desires an alliance
with her.
 
I had heard rumors that he had
some pretty heavy losses at gaming, and he has come to Scotland with no other intention
than securing Sarah’s hand.”

Lady Waverly
appeared amazed.
 
“Regina, this is very good news indeed.”

The
Viscountess’s
smile faded.
 
“Yes, however I have no dependence that Sarah will accept him.
 
We sent her to you in the first place because
of her adamant refusal to accept Simon’s offer.
 
The girl can be extremely stubborn, Mama.”

A very hard
look came into the older woman’s eyes. “She’ll accept,” she stated in an
uncompromising voice.
 
“You just leave
that to me.
 
But where has she been all
this time?”

“She will
not say,” Lady Denham informed her disgustedly.
 
“I depend upon you to find out, Mama.
 
Denham is so foolishly pleased to have her back, that he will not press
her.”

“Time enough
for that,” Lady Waverly said.
 
“We must
first secure her engagement.
 
Only a
respectable marriage can right her in the eyes of the world, and remove any
stigma from your family.”

“You are
right, Mama,” her daughter nodded.

The door
opened, interrupting their confidences, and Simon Atherly entered the
room.
 
He was formally attired in full
evening dress, with a blue satin, long-tailed coat and knee-breeches.
 
His yellow hair was tastefully disarrayed in
a windswept style and a pleased smile hovered over his handsome face.
 

Mr. Atherly
had come into Scotland
because he was indeed hard-pressed to honorably pay his gaming debts.
 
Not only that, his tailor, boot maker and
several other creditors had started to press him for payment in an increasingly
aggressive manner.
 
He had looked about
town for another heiress and had been surprised to find that these ladies’
careful mothers looked at him askance.
 
He was not openly ostracized, but there was no doubt that his reputation
had been tainted by the interlude that had completely ruined Sally.
 
A hardened gamester, Simon was betting all on
his ability to win over Sally Denham.
 
Her fortune would put him on easy street, and at once allow him to pay
off all his debts of honor, and face the future with a large fortune at his
hands.
  
Sally’s initial refusal had
piqued his vanity, but he chalked it up to maidenly reserve.
 
He should not have been as frank with her, he
realized, and would have done better to have wooed her.
 
But no matter what distempered freak the girl
might fall into, he had no intention of letting her fortune slip through his
fingers a second time.
 
Even if he had to
feign love for the girl, he would leave Scotland with an engagement.
 
Simon had never yet failed to enthrall a girl
once he made up his mind to win her, he sneered to himself.
 
Word of his engagement to Sally Denham and
her fortune would be enough to hold off his creditors, he thought smugly, and
set him up for life.
 
He could set a date
for the wedding sometime in the next year, and live happily on the expectancy
until then.
        

Lady Denham
rushed forward to greet him.
 
“My dear
Simon,” she said, “You must allow me to introduce you to my mother, Lady
Waverly. Mama, this is Mr. Simon Atherly, who is to offer for Sarah.”

Simon was rewarded
with a rare, wintry smile from Lady Waverly.
 
He bowed deeply, and took her withered hand in his.
 
“Ma’am.”

Before she
could reply the door opened again, and Sally walked through, her hand upon her
father’s arm.
 
She was smiling up at him as
she entered the room, but when she saw the occupants of the
parlour
,
her countenance froze, brows raised in disbelief.
 

Simon spun
around, and bowed gracefully to her.
 
“Miss Sally,” he shook his head, a gentle smile in his blue eyes.
 
“What a dance you have led me.
 
But I have returned to you, and remain ever
your faithful servant.”