If that were the case, he would leave and see about finding a new home, though he’d much rather spend time this afternoon with his Juliet.
“Lady Claresta is in the back parlor,” the butler announced. “If you would please follow me.”
In an instant, Donovan’s mood lightened and he followed the butler back to a sunny room of white and blue, where he found Lady Claresta, standing next to a settee.
“Mr. MacGregor, I’m so pleased that you’ve called.”
“I’ll have tea delivered, Lady Claresta, and send for your maid.”
“Thank you, Gibson,” she responded, though Donovan would have liked to object to the presence of Esther, as she always appeared at the most inopportune moments.
“Please, have a seat,” Lady Claresta smiled up at him as she settled onto the settee. “I’ve something to show you.”
Instead of taking a place across from her, Donovan sat to her side, as near as he dared. “What is it that you wish to show me?” he asked, looking into her emerald eyes, wishing she wanted to show him more of herself, but knew that wasn’t the case.
“This.” She lifted a piece of parchment from the table. “I’ve made a detailed list of all the places I wish to show you in London, and places you should visit, where I am not allowed to go, so that you can fully enjoy Town before you return to Scotland.”
He glanced over the neatly penned list of places. He’d need months, if not a year to see everything. Then her words sank in. “Return to Scotland?”
“Are you not?” She blinked. “I assumed you were visiting.”
“Nay. I’m takin’ up residence in England.”
Lady Claresta began to smile then bit her bottom lip as if she didn’t wish to be too happy that he’d remain. “I thought you were here on family business.”
“I am. I will remain to oversee our distribution.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t ask too many questions about what he was distributing.
“That is delightful, Mr. MacGregor.” Lady Claresta finally allowed her smile, and her emerald eyes sparkled with delight, warming him from the inside.
“I will have plenty of time to visit the places ye’ve listed, as I will only be returnin’ to Bonnybridge to visit.”
“I think you will enjoy living in England.” She looked up into his eyes.
Aye, he’d enjoy it because of her, not that he said as much. He leaned forward, bringing his lips closer to hers when someone cleared their throat.
He stiffened, pulled away and noted Esther standing just inside the door. She entered, followed by a footman carrying a tea service.
A moment later the butler entered. “Lord Millard to see you, Lady Claresta.”
Donovan slid a glance to the lady because he was quite certain she had just groaned.
“Please tell him that I’m already engaged with guests and cannot see him.”
“Of course, Lady Claresta.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Lord Millard announced as he stepped into the room. “Lady Claresta, as my future fiancé, you should know that entertaining would not keep me from you.”
At his words, she stiffened.
Fiancé? Ah, yes, of course. He was the same gentleman outside of the perfume shop.
“That has not yet been determined, Lord Millard,” she bit out as she handed Donovan a cup of tea.
“Thank ye,” he said warmly.
“And you are?” Lord Millard directed his question to Donovan as he settled across from them without being asked to sit.
“Mr. Donovan MacGregor of Scotland,” Lady Claresta answered as she poured.
“What brings you south, Mr. MacGregor,” Lord Millard inquired none too politely.
“Business,” Donovan answered, but that was the only information he was going to offer the officious gentleman.
“What kind of business are you in?” He said the word as if dung hung from each syllable.
“I doona believe that is any of yer concern,” Donovan replied and took a sip of the tea.
Lord Millard sat forward, clearly affronted. “Obviously, you don’t know who I am.”
“Yer a Sassenach, it’s all I need ta ken.”
Lord Millard came to his feet.
“Lady Claresta, if we are to keep your appointment, we must leave shortly,” Esther blurted.
“Yes, of course.” Lady Claresta stood. “If you gentlemen would excuse me.”
Donovan ignored Lord Millard and turned to his hostess. “It was a lovely afternoon, as always, Lady Claresta, and I look forward to the next time I am in yer company.”
“I, as well.” She smiled up at him, a bit of mischief in her emerald eyes, then turned to her other guest. “Good day, Lord Millard. Gibson will show you out.”
Lord Millard glared at Donovan. “Once our betrothal is official, you will cease calling on Lady Claresta.”
It was all Donovan could do not to laugh in his face. Did Lord Millard honestly believe he was worthy of Lady Claresta? “As there has been no official agreement or announcement, I will do as I please.”
“I warn you, MacGregor, stay away from Lady Claresta.”
Donovan snorted. Warn him? Was the gentleman so foolish not to realize he’d just thrown down the gauntlet?
Chapter 8
Claresta chose her favorite day dress of rose and white, and waited none too patiently for Mr. MacGregor. He’d not said he would call today, but the intention was there and she was just as certain that Lord Millard hadn’t scared him away.
Yes, she’d heard her cousin’s warning, but Mr. MacGregor had turned it nicely around.
“Mr. MacGregor,” Gibson announced.
“Please show him in.” Claresta stood and smoothed her skirts.
A moment later, he entered the room. “Lady Claresta, it is a pleasure to see ye again.”
“Shall I ring for tea?” Gibson asked.
“No. We shan’t remain in.”
Mr. MacGregor raised an eyebrow. “We shan’t?”
“I fear further disruption by unwanted guests, so I prefer not to be at home.”
MacGregor chuckled. “Aye, I prefer no interruptions either.” He took a step forward and Claresta lifted her chin, hoping that he’d finally kiss her again.
“Lady Claresta, you left your list upstairs.”
She really needed to have a chat with her maid. “Yes, thank you, Esther,” Claresta bit out and took the parchment from her maid.
“What shall you like to do today, Mr. MacGregor?” She held the list up to him.
He barely glanced at it. “I’ve already made plans and had hoped ye’d wish to leave yer home.”
She blinked up at him. What kind of plans could he have made? It wasn’t as though Mr. MacGregor had been in London long enough to know the Town as well as she.
“A drive,” he announced. “I’ve borrowed Bridges’ curricle and wish to take it out, if ye’d like to accompany me.”
Excitement bubbled inside. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
“I’ll retrieve your bonnet and pelisse, Lady Claresta.” Esther backed out of the room.
“Where shall we go?” Not that it mattered, as a curricle only allowed for two passengers, so she’d be quite alone with Mr. MacGregor.
“That is a surprise.”
A surprise? Claresta’s breath hitched.
“Do ye trust me?”
“Yes, but wouldn’t you prefer to attend one of the items on the list?”
The corner of his mouth tipped. “Are ye afraid of me, then?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that, well, there are only a few more days of Parliament, and soon the Season will be over, and I thought, well, before I returned to the country, that we might, well…”
Donovan placed a finger against her lips. “I promise ye’ll like this surprise. Even better, I can guarantee that yer Lord Millard willna find us and ruin a perfectly lovely day.”
At his touch, Claresta relaxed. Did she really care where they went or what they did?
After donning her pelisse and bonnet, Claresta allowed Mr. MacGregor to help her into his borrowed curricle. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather and heat swept through her body at his firm grip about her waist. No gentleman had ever lifted her as such. She steadied herself with her hands upon his shoulders but all she wanted to do was lean down and kiss him.
It had been nearly a year since they’d kissed and the few opportunities they’d had since he’d come to London had been interrupted time and again by Esther. At least today, they were free of servants and hopefully Mr. MacGregor would have the opportunity to finally kiss her once more.
As she settled into her seat, she noticed the basket. “Are we going to picnic?”
“Aye.”
“And, where might this picnic take place?” Even though she trusted him completely, Claresta could not relax when she knew a surprise was waiting.
“Didn’t we once discuss patience being a virtue?” he laughed as he picked up the reins and tooled the horses into traffic.
“I’ve not yet conquered such a quality,” she admitted without shame. “All hope may be lost.”
“As that is the case, I shall tell ye.” He winked, and a wave of heat rushed through her body.
“There is an estate along the Thames that I have an interest in purchasin’. As ye are more familiar with London than I, I thought to gain yer opinion on the property and location.”
He wanted her opinion? Most gentlemen of her acquaintance wouldn’t even consider the option, let alone ask her. “I’d like that very much.”
“Then it is settled. After we’ve toured the grounds, we will find a place to picnic and discuss whether it would be a good property for me to own or if ye believe another would suie me better.”
He truly wanted her opinion, which reminded her of the conversation she’d had earlier with Lord Millard. “Tell me, Mr. MacGregor, what is your stance with regard to a woman in charge of an estate?”
“If it were legal?”
“Yes, if the courts would allow such a thing.”
“It all depends, Lady Claresta.”
“On?” She waited.
“I mean no insult, but what little I’ve learned of English aristocracy, most wives and daughters know little of runnin’ an estate, as they’ve been sheltered from such matters. In those instances, it might not be wise to leave the matter to one who has little knowledge of what is needed.”
He hadn’t exactly said he objected to a woman being in charge.
“However, if she had the same knowledge as a son, then I don’t see what difference it would make, other than too many gentlemen would not respect her decisions, even if they were well-founded.”
She blinked at him in surprise. She knew of no gentleman with a similar opinion and it was one of the many reasons why she was reluctant to marry, as a husband would take all control of Stoneridge Hall away from her.
“Do women run estates in Scotland?” If so, she wished Stoneridge was located there instead of Kent.
He laughed. “No, it is the same as it is here. However, if I were the only male in my line, and if somethin’ were to happen to me, I have no doubt that my sister, or either of my two cousins could manage Anagburn as well as any of the men,” he assured her. “They know the land, the animals, the manor, the whole of the estate as well as I, and I could go to my grave in comfort knowing what has been built over the decades would thrive.”
Claresta could kiss him, and it had nothing to do with the desire that burned within her, but happiness that there was one gentleman who recognized that a female did indeed possess intelligence, and hope that he’d not take control of Stoneridge Hall from her.
* * *
Donovan had been told of the property by a gentleman at White’s the night before. The family wished to sell and offered Donovan the opportunity to visit today. He’d even sent word so that the servants knew to expect him. And, after the description of the house and the grounds, Donovan also knew that it was the perfect opportunity to get Lady Claresta away from her maid and have no fear of Lord Millard interrupting them again.
It was a stately manor that dated back to Elizabeth, but larger than he needed. However, if he were to marry and have children, the home would do quite well.
Marriage, a word that he’d not considered for himself since he was a lad of twenty and thought not to give much consideration to again for many more years. However, finding his Juliet and coming to know her had changed everything, and now Donovan looked to a future that might include her.
As she took the blanket from the curricle, Donovan lifted the basket and followed her to the embankment along the Thames and the two settled beneath a shade tree.
“It is a lovely home, with a lovely setting,” Lady Claresta offered.
“Aye, it is.” He lifted the wine from the basket as she pulled out the bread and cheese.
They were completely alone and even though the large manor was behind them, they were too far away to be heard, and the tree with its long limbs and full leaves shaded them from view. It was just as he’d hoped when he’d planned this outing.
“What of your home in Scotland, Mr. MacGregor? What is Bonnybridge like?”
Unbidden, he smiled. “Bonnybridge is a quaint village in a valley of the Bonny Water,” he answered. “A canal provides a link to ships wanting to cross the country between the River Clyde and River Forth.” Those were facts, not of interest to an English Lady. “Romans had settled there at one time,” he added. Though, that wasn’t of interest either, as Romans had settled in many places in England and Scotland.
“Are you able to ship the wool directly from your home?”
“Nay. We travel to Edinburgh or other ports to take the wool south.” There were too many excisemen in the area and the MacGregors had always feared that their cargo would be searched too close to home.
“Is your home within the village of Bonnybridge?” Then she frowned. “I suppose it could not be if you have enough sheep to ship large quantities of wool and you also mentioned grains. What types does your family farm?”
A lady couldn’t possibly be interested in farming practices, but as she asked, Donovan decided to answer. “Barley and oats, mainly.” As long as Lady Claresta wasn’t aware of how whisky was made, she’d not question the reason for their crops. “Much of that is shipped for animal feed,” he added, which wasn’t a lie either. Their wealth did not come from the feed, but they produced enough that it kept the excisemen from questioning the family, though they had their suspicions.
“You’ve mentioned your uncle, aunt, sister and cousins. Do you have any other family?”
Was she wondering if he would inherit? “I have a large family. I came to London to be away from them.” He laughed. He did not wish to discuss his home, or his family, because he feared that he might accidently refer to their whisky business. “Too many to discuss because at the moment, I have two brothers and seven cousins all who all reside at Anagburn.”
Her eyes widened. “I can’t imagine such a household as I’ve always been an only child.”
Donovan couldn’t imagine not having someone underfoot or meddling. These past days had been very nice without their interference, but he also knew that after a time, he’d miss his relatives. “Was it very lonely?” he found himself asking.
She shrugged. “I didn’t know anything different, though my life improved when Emily came to live with us. Her father had passed, and my father became her guardian. Thus, we became good friends even though she is a few years older than me.”
At least she had a cousin, and how could she miss something that she’d never known?
As they sipped wine and partook of the cheese and bread, they discussed London, the Season and various entertainments, but as Donovan knew so few people in London, he’d not attended any entertainment since that first night when he had allowed Bridges to drag him to the ball. Thank goodness that he had or Donovan might not have ever discovered the location of
Juliet.
“We are to attend the Bentley ball this evening. Will you be going as well, Mr. MacGregor?”
“Donovan.”
She blinked.
“I’d have ye call me by my name.”
Her eyes darkened as she smiled. “I’d be pleased to do so.”
“The answer to yer question is yes. I’ll be attendin’ Bentley’s ball.” That was the only invitation he’d received. Of course, Bentley was the step-son of Uncle Aiden’s wife, it stood to reason that he should be invited.
Claresta brightened. “I’ll save a waltz for you.”
He chuckled. “Claresta, just once, will ye wait for me to ask?”
“I don’t do well with waiting, as we’ve established,” she teased. “Though you seem to have no difficulty, Donovan.”
Donovan set his wine glass aside and turned fully toward her. “How would ye ken?”
“You’ve waited nearly a year to kiss me again.” She grinned up at him.
“How do ye ken that, lass?”
“Because I’ve been waiting just as long for you to do so.”
“And I accused ye of havin’ no patience.”
“It wouldn’t have been right for me to kiss you.”
He chuckled before he drew her close and brought his lips against hers.
Lady Claresta sighed, and he deepened the melding of their mouths, taking and giving until she was clinging to him, pliant in his arms as Donovan lowered her to the blanket and was over her. Her fingers slid through his hair as Donovan caressed her side and placed lingering kisses along her jaw and neck. Claresta drew his mouth back to her own as Donovan shifted and brought a hand to her breast.
She arched as he tested the weight in his hands.
Need rose within him as he began to ache with desire.
They were quite alone and it would be so easy to lift her skirts, give her pleasure as she’d never known and then share his passion with her.
Claresta moaned and Donovan remembered himself and pulled his hand away. Just because she’d first appeared to him at a ball given by a madame did not make Claresta a doxy.
He shouldn’t have laid her back on the blanket and he most certainly should not have kissed and caressed her as he had.
Once Upon a Midnight Masquerade: Scot to the Heart #3 Page 6