The Falconer (Elizabeth May) (14 page)

Chapter 15

T
he following evening, Derrick escorts me to Catherine’s ball. I dance with my partner in a dress of silver-blue covered in pale French tarlatan, devoid of the sewn-on flowers that have become so popular at assemblies. My sleeves are delicate, slightly transparent and drape loosely down my arms. White gloves reach to my elbows and my hair is pulled back in curls that rest on one shoulder. My dress swishes with every step.

‘Good God,’ Derrick says. ‘I cannot believe I agreed to accompany you. I take back my words. Human dancing is dull! When is he going to throw you over his head?’

I smile at my dance partner as I grasp his hand in the reel. I’ve already forgotten his name – Lord F-Something. He has barely spoken to me, even when I tried polite conversation. His long face appears stuck in a perpetual scowl.

‘And when are they going to serve the bloody food?’ Derrick’s wings tickle my ear as we form a circle again. ‘Your friend intends to starve us, doesn’t she? How can she starve the guests at her own ball?’

‘Shut up,’ I mutter out of the corner of my mouth. I regret bringing him as much as he regrets being here.

‘I beg your pardon?’ asks the woman next to me in the reel, blinking wide blue eyes.

‘Lovely dance,’ I remark cheerfully. ‘Isn’t it?’

I grasp Lord F’s hand and twirl away, my slippers whispering over the hardwood floor. The walls are decorated with beautiful tapestries of scenes from the Scottish Highlands, and candles atop extravagant candelabras light the room.

Though electricity and floating lanterns are commonplace among the rich, Lady Cassilis has always shied away from technology. The steam-powered carriage is the most advanced invention on her property.

The dance ends and Lord F escorts me from the centre of the room to the refreshment table, where Catherine is standing.

He bows. ‘Thank you for the pleasure of your company.’

Then he turns on his heel to go and scowl at someone else. I breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Well,’ Catherine says brightly, ‘Lord Randall certainly appears . . . agreeable.’

Lord Randall? I wonder why I thought his name begins with an F. I’ll remember that and make sure never to accidentally accept any of his invitations to tea, should he send them. He’d probably glare at me until I’m forced to feign illness.

‘He acted as if he didn’t want to dance with me at all.’

‘Oh?’ Catherine says, a bit too innocently. ‘That’s unfortunate.’

‘You asked him to, didn’t you?’

She flushes. ‘Lord Randall had pulled out some snuff near the balcony, and this was your only unclaimed dance. You know Mother can’t bear snuff.’

I open my dance card and study the array of signatures scrawled across the paper. ‘Mmm. And you can’t bear to see me sit through a single dance, apparently.’

Every dance is filled, just as at the Hepburns’ ballroom. I suppose it didn’t matter that I missed several dances there and disappointed those gentlemen.

I look up from my card just in time to catch glares from a group of ladies across the room. They whisper to each other.

I wonder if they’re talking about Lord Hepburn’s ball and my five missed dances. To them, I can’t be counted on to fulfil even the most basic of my social obligations. That makes me a failure, a woman unworthy of any man’s attention, let alone a full dance card.

Catherine follows my gaze and grasps a cup of punch. ‘It’s best to ignore them, just like you told me to.’

‘Ask her. Why. She is starving.
Meeee
!’ Derrick wails.

‘
Fine
,’ I snap, startling Catherine. She stares at me in concern. ‘Forgive me, but do you have something small to eat? I fear I might not last until supper.’

‘Of course,’ she says. ‘I believe cook is preparing more refreshments in the kitchen. They should be out soon.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ Derrick says. ‘I’m away to the kitchen to steal the refreshments. Don’t do anything foolish while I’m gone.’

He flies off in a blur of light. Thank heavens. When Dante described the circles of Hell, he clearly forgot the one where a hungry pixie sits on one’s shoulder for eternity.

‘So what happened yesterday?’ Catherine says.

‘Yesterday?’ I say warily.

‘At the Nor’ Loch,’ Catherine says. ‘I really didn’t mind the walk home with Dona.’

Damn Kiaran MacKay and his meddling. Either he didn’t clear her memory, or he shoved some new events in there. Who knows what I’m supposed to remember?

‘Aye. It was enjoyable,’ I say hastily. Did he make her think we all walked home together, then?

Catherine frowns. ‘You walked home by yourself? My goodness, you should have let me stay with you. So you weren’t able to fix the ornithopter?’

For God’s sake, what did Kiaran do to her? ‘It’s fixed. Fit and ready to fly.’

‘But you just said—’

‘Everything is quite fine,’ I say, with a wave of my hand. ‘So what did your mother think of your little unescorted outing yesterday?’

Catherine shifts her gaze and takes a sip of punch. Even the gold lighting from the candles betrays the flush that creeps up her neck. ‘Well,’ she says carefully. ‘Well. She—’

‘Wait! Let me guess. She called you an insolent girl and had you read from
Miss Ainsley’s Book of Etiquette and Reflections on Societal Conduct
?’

She scrunches her nose and drinks again. I’ll wager she’s the one wishing the punch had whisky in it this time. ‘Yes to both. Then she had me recite chapter nineteen entirely from memory.’

‘Ah,’ I say. ‘“Appropriate Behaviour Inside and Outside of the Home.” But surely that’s the most
exciting
chapter.’

‘You think so only because you’ve broken every rule stated there.’

I glance at the kitchen door. What could Derrick possibly be doing in there that’s taking so long? The pixie could devour a whole table of food in a few short minutes. ‘I admit nothing.’

‘At least Gavin was there to save me.’ Catherine shakes her head. ‘If he hadn’t interrupted, I’m sure she would have had me recite the whole blasted book.’

‘Speaking of,’ I say, looking behind her, ‘where is your brother? I thought I saw him briefly before—’

‘He’s right behind you,’ a low voice murmurs in my ear.

I jump and Catherine laughs.

Oh, my
. Gavin’s blond hair is slightly mussed. His wide blue eyes are as lovely as ever. In a mere two years, he has managed to grow much taller than I remember him being, almost Kiaran’s height. I have to tip my head back to look at him.

His smile is slow and rather charming. ‘All grown up, I see.’ His voice betrays a hint of an accent he must have picked up at Oxford.

I realise I’ve been staring and I blush. I hold out my hand. ‘Gavin,’ I say. I allow myself that familiarity. ‘Or should I call you
Lord Galloway
now?’

A distant relative of Gavin’s passed just last year, leaving Gavin with an earldom, a fortune to add to what he inherited from his father, and a few other properties in Scotland. It’s strange to hear him referred to as the Earl of Galloway now.

‘You can call me whatever you like,’ he says, releasing my hand. He glances at his sister with a teasing smile. ‘Though I rather think Catherine should use my title.’

Catherine scowls. ‘Don’t you dare bring that up again.’ She looks at me. ‘He took me shopping this afternoon and it was all
Lord Galloway
this and
Lord Galloway
that. I’ve never seen him look so smug.’

‘I don’t often get to abuse my new title at Oxford,’ he explains.

‘My,’ I say with a smile, ‘how unfortunate for you. You’ve been mistreated, you poor thing.’

Gavin smiles at me in the same charming way he always has, as though he never left at all. There’s something comforting and utterly familiar about having him here, as though I’m back in a time before my mother died. Until now, I never realised just how much I missed him.

He leans against the back of a chair set up by the drink table. ‘I sense you’re not entirely sympathetic to my plight.’

‘Of course we’re not,’ Catherine says. ‘You vile man.’

‘Do you see how she treats me, Aileana? She’s downright vicious.’

‘Vicious?’ I laugh and ladle some punch into a porcelain cup. Lady Cassilis doesn’t even have a dispenser like normal households. ‘This from the boy who used to put ink in our tea.’

‘I had almost forgotten that,’ Catherine says. ‘It was really quite awful of you.’

Gavin looks somewhat chagrined. ‘I was twelve. You were girls, and therefore an entirely different species.’

‘I went home with black teeth!’

‘That was the worst part,’ Catherine agreed. ‘I couldn’t smile the whole day.’

‘You spoke much less, and Aileana could only visit again when the ink washed off,’ Gavin says cheerfully. ‘So, you see, goal achieved.’

‘Really, Gavin. You are such a—’

‘Catherine,’ snaps the approaching Lady Cassilis. She looks as severe as ever, lips pressed into a hard line. She gives me a brief frosty glare – a look that clearly says she holds me responsible for her daughter sneaking away yesterday – then returns her attention to her daughter. ‘I hope you were not about to insult your brother.’

‘Especially when he controls your weekly allowance,’ Gavin adds. ‘Imagine walking past all those lovely shops without a farthing to your name.’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Galloway, stop teasing,’ Lady Cassilis says. ‘You are not about to take away your sister’s allowance.’

At that precise moment, Derrick barrels through the ballroom doors, bright as ever. He hovers above my shoulder and lands gracefully on my bare skin.

His wings graze my neck and he hiccups once. ‘Glorious lady.’ He stretches across my collarbone. ‘I have consumed –’
hiccup
‘– wondrous, splendid, beautiful honey. And it was –’
hiccup
‘– magnificent.’

I almost groan aloud.

Gavin’s eyes flicker to Derrick’s perch on my shoulder. He couldn’t possibly have seen . . . ? Gavin’s attention shifts to the couples beginning to congregate in the centre of the ballroom. No, I must have imagined it.

The first waltz of the night is about to begin. I place my cup of punch on the table and glance around for the gentleman who signed my dance card earlier.

Gavin bows. ‘I believe I should like to dance this waltz with you. Would you do me the honour?’

‘Galloway,’ Lady Cassilis hisses. ‘This is most improper. I don’t recall the waltz being on the list.’

‘I added it. My house, my rules.’ He meets my gaze. ‘You wouldn’t deny your gracious host, would you?’

‘I already promised the waltz to someone else.’

Gavin leans over and plucks open the dance card dangling from my wrist. ‘Ah, Milton. You should definitely dance with me instead. He’s never been any good at leading.’

‘Galloway!’ Lady Cassilis is apoplectic. ‘That is exceedingly impolite. Let Aileana dance with Lord Milton and stop your foolery this instant.’

Derrick giggles into my ear. ‘She’s silly. So siiiiilly.’ He pats my ear. ‘Aileana.
Aileana!
Can you hear me? I know you can hear me. You can hear me. You’re hearing me. Say something. Smile. Twitch. Cough once.’

Just then, Lord Milton approaches me and bows. ‘May I have the pleasure?’

‘Change of plan,’ Gavin says, easing himself between Lord Milton and me. ‘I’ll take it from here, Milton.’ He claps Lord Milton’s thin shoulder as if they are old friends.

Lord Milton coughs slightly and straightens, looking quite shocked. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Gavin smiles. ‘I’ll take this waltz with the lady.’

‘
Daaaaaancing
,’ Derrick cries. ‘I love
daaaancing
! Tell him to toss you over his head!’

I resist the urge to reach up and flick him off my shoulder. My God, how much honey did he eat? When we get home, I’m going to lock him in that blasted dressing room until the effects wear off. No doubt he’s had about a week’s worth.

Lord Milton looks dismayed. ‘But—’

‘So glad you understand.’ Gavin offers me his arm. ‘May I?’

He drags me away from the group. I only concede so I don’t attract more attention from the other guests.

We stand across from one another in the dance line. I glare at him, but Gavin simply flashes his disarming grin, bowing from the waist. He takes my hand and we begin our waltz.

Gavin must have practised while he was away. We used to dance around the drawing room of his house, he and Catherine and I. Gavin would step on my toes or twirl us into a table or cause me to trip over his feet. Now we move well together, each step smooth and graceful. His hand is firm against my back. I swear I can feel its warmth there through my dress and his gloves.

People are already staring at us, and I’m sure they’re whispering about me again. I grit my teeth and try to focus on the dance, wishing it to end soon so I can excuse myself.

Gavin whirls me around and I look everywhere but at his face. His shoulder seems like a fine spot.

‘I cannot believe you did that,’ I finally say.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says. ‘I came off as an arrogant arse.’

‘Indeed you did. Is that what they teach you at Oxford?’

He laughs. ‘Direct hit.’

Gavin might be able to joke about this situation, but I can’t. I have to behave properly for at least a few balls this season, before the gossip about me becomes even worse. This is an opportunity – perhaps my last – to have some control over my future, to match myself with someone I may grow to like with time. Who knows what kind of man my father would choose for me? My goodness, it might be some terribly overbearing lout twice my age.

‘It’s not funny, Gavin.’

‘Forgive my impulsiveness, then.’ Gavin flashes another smile. ‘Your dance card was full and I wanted a conversation.’

Derrick giggles. ‘Whirling! I love to whirl. Ask him to whirl faster! I see lights. Do you see the lights? Aileana? Do you see the lights?’

‘Funny,’ I say drily, ignoring Derrick. ‘I thought we were conversing perfectly well before the waltz. Before you became – your words, not mine – an arrogant arse.’