He shoved his arms into his coat and put on his beaver hat. “I wish you were my mistress. We would have had a far more satisfactory outcome tonight,” he said grumpily as he escorted her outside to the waiting barouche.
She braced herself for the cool night air as she stepped outside, knowing she would find the waiting difficult, too. She wanted more than his kisses.
So much more.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday morning
Crystal entered the weaving factory with Hilda, their arms laden with baskets containing bread, jam, and a wicker-bound flask of hot milk. When she walked in the room Mr. Macintosh had set aside for lessons, she found it crowded. The lassies she knew sat on the floor ready with their slates, as did several others she hadn’t met. She counted twenty girls. Far too many.
“Why are there so many new faces?” Crystal asked, bemused. How would she teach them all?
“We heard you were a good teacher, miss,” said a girl with a well-fitting but dirty dress.
“My lady, you mean,” Hilda corrected, straightening her shoulders with pride. “Lady Crystal is the daughter of the famous Earl Wilding. Please address her properly.”
“Why did you not come when we started?” Crystal asked. “There were only ten girls yesterday.”
“I was afeard,” said a young woman who, despite being thin, was a striking beauty. “My pa said no gentry would do anything nice for us. He said you were looking us over for other purposes.”
“I assure you that is not true,” Crystal said, horrified by the outrageous claim. “What is your name?”
“Jenny,” the girl said with a timid voice.
“Oh, you’re the friend Ailish spoke to me about yesterday.” Was she really going to have to put up with more stories? The last thing Crystal needed was gossip and nasty innuendo. Indignation made blood rush to her head. “I am here to teach you your letters and numbers. Why would your father say such a thing?”
“My mother and sister are gifted with beauty. A lord back home, he offered to show us his ship. I didn’t wish to go, for I have no liking of water. The ship sailed away, and we have no’ heard from them since. Pa said to put no trust in aristocrats.”
“I can scarcely believe that, you shock me so. I say put no trust in villains who make up stories.” She looked over at Hilda, who shrugged, her eyes wide with disbelief as well.
“My pa complained to the authorities about them being stolen away, but no one would listen.” There were tears in the girl’s eyes as she spoke, and her voice wavered with truth.
Crystal frowned. She had no idea what she could do about such a strange claim, but surely she should try and rise above her disbelief. “Who was this lord? Did your mother know him?”
“Aye, for she wouldn’t go with a stranger. It were the chieftain, Laird MacLeod.”
Crystal knew the name of the Highland laird on the Isle of Sky. And although kidnapping was rare these days, she had known of cases when it had happened in the Highlands in the past. “I fear I have no power to get your mother and sister back, though if you’ll permit me, I could ask my benefactor, Lord Lyle, about it.”
“Oh please, my lady,” Jenny said, and tears of gratitude shone in her eyes.
“All right, come and join the class. I’m sorry your pa has so little trust in me, but you lassies will learn that I mean to do what I say, and that is to teach you all. I will see if I can organize another class for Monday and Wednesday. I cannae teach old together with new, nor such a large crowd. Could the lassies who were here on Thursday stay? You others may return on Monday.”
There was a collective moan of disappointment. The new group of girls walked out of the room, their faces downcast as if they’d lost a great prize.
When they were gone, Hilda passed around the bread while she turned to the board and started writing out the alphabet.
Ailish came up to her, bread in hand, a cup of milk in the other. “I’m sorry my friend upset you, my lady,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“That was a very odd story,” Crystal said as she wrote.
“It is as Jenny claims,” Ailish said quietly. “We’re from the same village in Sky. The lord takes men, women, and children and sells them to the American plantations as slaves. That’s why my mother and I came south after Pa died in the war. We had no one to protect us.”
Sickened, Crystal turned to her. “So, it’s really true? If it is, I’m very shocked and upset.” She glanced at Jenny, who sat at the back of the class, a piece of bread in her hand. Crystal had never seen such a mournful girl.
“Aye, my lady,” Ailish said. “I saw the boat myself. I was sitting in the heather, watching the lord talking to Jenny, her mother, and her sisters. Jenny’s no liar. She’s my best friend.”
“What about her father, who claims I’m here for other purposes?” Crystal asked. “I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the foolishness of it.”
“Like Jenny’s mother and sisters, she turned every head in our village. Her father has had many offers for her, and for a while he was considering it.”
“Offers?” Crystal could barely believe what she was hearing.
“For shameful things,” Ailish said with downcast eyes. “But she’s weaving now.”
As she taught the day’s lessons, Crystal’s head swirled with the dreadfulness of what she’d learned from Jenny and Ailish. She resolved to speak to Aaron about Jenny and find out what he knew about white slavery.
There must be something they could do.
Two hours later, Crystal and Hilda walked up the high street from the factory, Crystal’s mind still whirling. “I cannae get what Jenny said out of my thoughts. Do you really think a Highland lord would sell his own kin into slavery? I didn’t even know there was such a thing.”
Hilda shifted her wicker basket onto her other arm. “Not all lords are good to their kin like your father was. I’ve heard many a story of kidnap and treachery. I’ve seen my own kin driven off their farms because their lord wished to raise the rents.”
Crystal marched up the road, her head down against the cold wind. “I can’t bear it. I need to talk to Lord Lyle. He has offices in Parliament Hall. It isn’t far from here.”
“You cannae call upon a gentleman, and I’m surprised I have to remind you,” Hilda said indignantly.
“It is for the purpose of business, and he has invited me to meet him in his rooms.”
Hilda sighed and pursed her lips with disapproval. “As you wish.”
They walked past St. Giles’ Cathedral and into the impressive courtyard of Parliament Hall. The grand building had once been the Scottish Parliament House, before the Sassenachs had invited the German who didn’t speak English to become their king.
Lord Lyle stood in the courtyard with a kilt-clad lord who appeared an oaf, due to his lack of bearing. Crystal narrowed her eyes, trying to remember where she’d seen him before.
In contrast to the slovenly man, Aaron looked every bit the aristocrat in his black beaver hat and beautifully tailored garrick coat. Open at the front, it showed his wide, athletic shoulders and long, strong legs. Tied elaborately at his throat was a claret-colored cravat, the tone picked out from his silk waistcoat. His tan-colored pantaloons molded his slim hips and muscular thighs. With his spit-polished black Hessians, complete with tassels around the top of the shaft, he looked as if he’d just stepped out of Ackermann’s Repository.
He saw her immediately and walked toward her with the oaf in tow. “Lady Crystal, what a pleasant surprise. You have been teaching your charges?” He bowed elegantly.
She curtsied, and although her heart was racing at the sight of him looking so exquisitely handsome, she kept a composed expression. “Indeed, Lord Lyle. However, the numbers have doubled, and I wished to see if your providence might allow for more students.”
“Doubled? So soo
n? Clearly you have an aptitude for teaching,” he said with a smile.
“So it would appear.” It was strange to maintain such a formal composure when she wanted to throw herself into his arms and be kissed again as he had kissed her last night. Her body ached for him. It seemed to have a memory all its own, for her nipples tightened under her chemise and she was certain her cheeks had become flushed.
Aaron gestured to the oaf. “I dinnae ken if you have made the acquaintance of my colleague, Laird Angus Stuart?”
The brute of a lord at Sir Walter’s salon. How could she have forgotten? She gave a small nod of acknowledgment, though she would have much preferred to cut him.
“I remember you. I attended your speech at Sir Walter Scott’s, and I didn’t like it one bit.” He glared down at her, his mottled pink face as unpleasant as his peeling red scalp. Up close, his eyes were a watery blue. Everything about him disgusted her.
“I’m sorry, I have no memory of you,” she lied, determined to bring him down to size. “I meet many people, as I’m often invited to speak. There is much interest by intelligent folks who wish to hear new and interesting ideas.”
The laird’s face flushed brighter, and she knew she’d hit the mark.
Aaron coughed and gave his head a slight shake. “I’ll wish you good day, Laird Angus. We’ll meet again next week.”
The laird barely bowed and strode off, his kilt flapping as he walked. She waved at his retreating back and snickered. Hilda, who waited just out of earshot, frowned at her lack of decorum.
“Dinnae make an enemy of Laird Angus,” Aaron said, his voice stern, when she turned back to him.
“The man is a fool. He behaved abominably at Sir Walter’s salon. He nearly caused a riot.” A drop of rain hit her face, and she looked up. The clouds appeared daunting, and the atmosphere suddenly seemed heavily charged. She held out her hand to test for droplets, then gave Aaron her full attention. She’d taken it for granted that he would agree with her about Laird Angus.
Instead he was scowling. “Dinnae get on the wrong side of Laird Angus. He’s determined to prove his worth to the prince regent, given the pall that hangs over the Stuart name. He spends his time hunting out those who wish to undermine the crown. He’ll give up anyone—friends, acquaintances, even kin.”
A shiver of disgust traveled the whole length of her body. “Why do you associate with him?” Though he didn’t say it, she sensed Aaron’s abhorrence, too.
He motioned her forward toward the grand stone entrance of Parliament Hall. Hilda followed discreetly behind them.
“The Stuart and I are stuck together like an oyster in its shell while I do my duty to the duke and fulfill his expectations of me. This council position is not to my liking. I dinnae wish to wallow in the dirt of supposed insurgency or to send my men to search in hovels for villains, who squeal like rats but have little to tell.”
“In that case, I will try to behave in a conciliatory manner should I see him again, though I doubt he’ll find me of interest. I am his majesty’s loyal subject, as was my father,” she said.
“You stand out, my lady, because you’re not afeard to tell the truth. Your speeches offend the ears of some powerful men, and mark my words,” he said, lowering his voice, “the foolish ones can be the most dangerous. I’ll say it again: dinnae make an enemy of the Stuart laird. He is no stranger to mockery, as you have seen.”
“Yes, my lord. I understand now. Thank you for the warning,” she said in her most obedient voice because it was clearly upsetting him. She refrained from telling him she thought it was too late for not upsetting the Stuart laird. He appeared perennially angry and deserving of any mockery that came his way.
Nevertheless, Aaron’s advice was wise. Purveyors of enlightening subjects were not always welcome in Scotland. It was a conservative country with a deep history of suspicion and treachery.
She entered Parliament Hall, a magnificent old building built when a Stuart king had graced the English throne. It appeared quite busy.
“The hall houses the courts now and is overrun with lawyers,” Aaron said with a distasteful twist of his mouth. They walked through large double doors, and she gasped at seeing the large baronial hall.
“It’s so beautiful! The paintings. The statues. Oh, and the ceiling,” she said, looking up at the oak timber-trussed ceiling complete with gold struts. “No wonder you wanted to show it to me.”
He smiled, and it transformed his face, showing the real Aaron, not the lord forced to do a duty distasteful to him. “I thought you might enjoy seeing what has become of the former seat of the Scottish Parliament. My suite of rooms is along the hallway. I will organize a servant to bring you a repast while we discuss business.”
“Thank you, for I have much I wish to discuss,” she said, making sure Hilda, who walked just behind them, could hear her.
He ushered her along a corridor until they came to a suite of rooms with the Lomond coat of arms on the door.
“You must be very important to have such spacious accommodation,” she said, nudging him so gently that a passerby wouldn’t notice. Even the antechamber was furnished with a row of elegant Regency mahogany carved chairs, the ducal crest impressed into the leather.
“Yes, so important,” he said ruefully, “that I am prevented from staying in the comfort of my own home, reading the broadsheets, and sitting in front of the fire with an entertaining companion.” He cast her a sly glance, and she bit back a smile, reading his thoughts as a wave of longing swept over her.
She walked through the anteroom and stood at the open door of a large office with a grand desk. There was a separate seating area, where several gilded armchairs done in the Egyptian style, complete with the Lomond crest, were placed around a marble-topped table.
“We won’t be disturbed, except for a servant who will serve you a repast,” he said, gesturing her into his office before turning to Hilda. “You may wait in the anteroom.”
Hilda glared at Crystal but didn’t disobey the lord.
A thrill of anticipation shot through her the moment he joined her in his office, even though he left the adjoining door open. She took off her bonnet, pelisse coat, and gloves and put them on a hook behind the door. His hat, coat, and gloves soon joined them. He put his finger to his lips to ensure her silence, closed the distance between them with a few steps, and backed her up against the wall, pressing his body against hers.
“I am of a mind to kiss you until you are senseless,” he said in a low voice so her maid couldn’t hear. “How could you leave me last night? I barely slept for thinking of you.”
She curled her arms around him and pressed herself against him in a wanton manner. “I want your lips on mine.”
He needed no further urging. He pressed his lips to hers, consuming her.
Her body flamed from the rawness of his kiss, rough and possessive as his teeth clashed and his tongue tangled with hers. It was so intense a bolt of pleasure shot through her, and she could imagine him pulling up her skirts, lifting her, and thrusting into her. She moaned at the wicked, licentious thought. When his mouth moved against hers, she could think of nothing but slaking her lust.
His hand pressed over her bodice, cupping her breast, his thumb roving over the fabric to seek her nipple beneath. Her breath came faster and faster, and if Hilda had not been sitting in the next room, she would have begged him to swive her, such was her need.
He pulled away, panting. “I want you. Don’t make me wait. Come to my place tonight.”
“I cannae. I have a meeting. I told you.” She wanted his lips on hers again. He was like an addiction—one she hadn’t known she had until this minute. Somehow, her time with him alone last night had changed and deepened how she felt about him.
“I will go with you and attend as your patron,” he insisted.
“You will not. It is with the weavers, and I dinna
e wish to have a lord with me. I’ve never seen such distrust for our class until this morning.”
“Tell me where you are meeting, and I’ll send my carriage.”
“I cannae,” she said breathlessly. “You need to accept that I am a little afraid of how fast this is moving. I’ve promised myself I won’t give away my virginity until I am sure this is not some foolish wildness that grips my soul.”
“You know me better than any other lady, for you understand my mind, my soul, and my desperate need for you, because you feel it, too.” He palmed her hand and pressed it over the hard bulge in his breeches. “I can’t stop thinking of you.”
“And I you. This is like a madness,” she said, conscious of how large his cock was and how much she wanted to see it. “I’ve not known anything like these feelings. These thoughts of you won’t leave me, and I want to do unspeakable things with my mouth, my lips, my hands. Things I’ve never done but I wish to when you kiss me.” Things she’d seen others do, which she desperately wanted to try.
A low moan left his lips.
“Things that I have no name for. My whole body is burning. I’m a flint to a tinder because of you,” she said, bewildered by the intensity of her passion.
“My poor burning, beautiful lassie,” he sighed in her ear. “I know how to make it better for you, for me, for both of us, and if you’re not ready to lose your virginity, I know of other ways to satisfy you.”
“You do?” She took her hand away from his cock, and her back sagged against the wall. “I cannae stand to be like this, a slave to your kisses, craving you. It isn’t normal.”
He cupped her cheeks and chuckled. “It is normal for a man and a woman who have regard for each other. You’ve just not felt it before, and in truth, neither have I. Not like this.”
“It is a torment that won’t leave me. I dinnae wish my thoughts to be buzzing with such foolishness.”
There was a knock at the door to his chambers, and he sprang apart from her. “That will be the refreshments I ordered. Compose yourself, for you have the look of a woman ravaged.”
An Unsuitable Lady for a Lord (Scottish Lords and Ladies) Page 11