His hand clenched against his thigh. He didn't like to think of any man mistreating her. It made him want to pound his fist into something.
She looked at him again, her blue eyes a little warmer. "Then I met you." Holding up her fingers, she counted. "One, two, three, four. I suppose that is a rather good number. Most of the girls at Madam Montgomery's would say they'd never met even one honest man."
He crossed his arms. "There are good men in this world, lass. It's the blackguards that give us a bad name."
"Not all of you, Mr. McTaggart." She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. "I should be going. Gracie is organizing a game of charades, and I promised not to be gone long. You could join us if you like."
Fergus grimaced. Even though he cared for Helena like family, and he and Gracie were as thick as thieves, he was the land steward, a servant. He did not socialize with barons and baronesses. "Thank you for the kind invitation, but I best see to my responsibilities."
Her eyes flared wide a second before her face flooded with color.
"Uh… Not those responsibilities," he said, too late recalling she had overheard his mother scolding him for neglecting his procreation obligations. "To do with Aldmist Fell."
"Oh!" If it was possible, she blushed an even a darker shade. "Yes, well I should not detain you any longer."
She turned and dashed back down the corridor before he could bid her farewell.
"Dinna forget we have an adventure tomorrow," he called as she disappeared around the corner.
"I'll remember."
And Fergus was unlikely to think on anything else all night.
THE NEXT MORNING EDITH woke to discover a snowfall blanketing the hills surrounding the castle, much to her disappointment. Last night she'd tossed in her bed for a long time, anticipating today's outing, but it seemed Mother Nature did not care that she had plans.
She grabbed the wrap lying across the foot of her bed and barely had time to don it before the door between her chambers and Gracie's flew open.
The girl rushed to the window to pull the curtain aside. "It snowed!" Dimples pierced her plump cheeks and her eyes twinkled with unrestrained joy.
Gracie was expected to practice her manners even away from the watchful eyes of the ton to prepare her for the day she would join Society, but Edith didn't scold her for barging in without permission. Sometimes a child needed to be a child.
"I already saw the snow." Nevertheless, Edith chose to look again. She secured the sash around her waist, came to the window to place her hands on Gracie's shoulders, and peered at the rare sight again. It snowed in London sometimes, but soot from coal fires created a dingy slush along the streets that she had come to hate. Fresh snow in Scotland, however, sparkled like millions of tiny diamonds when the sunlight hit it. "It is beautiful."
Gracie tipped her head back to meet Edith's gaze. "Will it take long for you to dress?"
Edith bent to kiss her forehead before moving toward the bell pull. "Perhaps I won't dress at all today. I'm considering ordering a pot of chocolate and tackling the book that your sister loaned me. Do you want to join me?"
Gracie grunted, causing Edith to smile. The girl had been spending too much time with Mr. McTaggart. "You promised we would go on an adventure."
"What would you have me do? There is snow everywhere."
"But you said you would join us. Fergus is readying the sleigh."
Edith paused with her hand on the cord, her pulse jumping. "Mr. McTaggart is still planning to go on the outing?"
"Yes, and I want you to come." There was a whine to Gracie's voice.
"I didn't realize…" Oh, dear. She wouldn't have dallied if she had known. "Tell Mr. McTaggart I will be along shortly." Hurrying to the pine wardrobe, she yanked the doors open and rifled through her gowns searching for something warm.
She heard a brief squeal a second before a force slammed against her back and two thin arms circled her waist. Edith braced a hand against the wardrobe frame to keep from tumbling headfirst into her gowns. "Gracie!"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." The girl kept gushing thanks until Edith extracted her from around her waist.
"You're welcome," she said with a chuckle. "Now, off with you so I can get dressed."
At the doorway, Gracie turned to Edith with a big grin. "You should wear your hair differently. Pulling it back makes you look old."
"Thanks," Edith muttered as Gracie dashed into the corridor and slammed the door. She might truly be offended if Gracie had meant to insult her. The girl was simply repeating what she'd heard her sister Lavinia suggest to Edith many times. Gracie was just more blunt about it.
After donning a heavy apron-front gown, Edith sat at the dressing table to gather her hair in the usual knot at the back of her head but stopped as she caught her reflection in the looking glass. Would she really appear younger if she left her hair down?
Hesitantly, she released her hair and allowed it to fall around her shoulders. Her stomach knotted as she studied herself. She rarely spent long at the mirror. It seemed silly and vain for someone like her. She was no beauty like her friend Lavinia, so she did the best she could with what God had given her. Yet, the woman staring back made her breath hitch. Her eyes shone with vitality and her features were less sharp now that she'd put on some weight. Her complexion had lost the sickly paleness she'd had when Lavinia found her in the alley behind the brothel. Even her white hair appeared soft and shiny again as it gently curled at the ends.
Perhaps Lavinia and Gracie were correct. If not younger, she appeared healthier at least. Besides, it was too cold to leave her neck exposed. She placed combs to keep her hair from falling in her face and vowed not to give her appearance another thought.
Below stairs, Lady Thorne met her in the foyer with a light blue pelisse draped over her arm and a fur muff. "I wasn't certain if you had everything you needed to stay warm."
"Thank you. I promise to take good care with it." The pelisse was a much finer quality than the one Edith was wearing, and she gladly discarded her old one. The baroness busied herself with assisting Edith into the coat and fastening the frogs as if she were under service to Edith instead of the other way around.
Lady Thorne stepped back to admire her handiwork. "It fits perfectly."
The sleeves hit her right below her wrists, fully covering the sleeves of her gown. "It's a well-tailored piece. Thank you for allowing me to wear it, milady."
The baroness shrugged one shoulder. "Fergus was whistling this morning, which means he's in good spirits. I think he would be disappointed if the outing were cut short due to the cold."
Heat rushed into Edith's face. "I—I'm certain his mood has nothing to do with me."
"After ten years, I've learned to read him fairly well, Edith. He seems fond of you." She handed Edith the muff. When Lady Thorne smiled, she sported a set of dimples identical to Gracie's. "If you happen to develop an attachment to Fergus and decide to prolong your stay at Aldmist Fell, Lord Thorne and I would not be opposed."
Edith shoved her hands inside the muff, too flustered to speak. They wanted to leave her behind in Scotland? With him? Until yesterday afternoon, the only words to pass between them had been insults and accusations. Half a day of peace did not mean Mr. McTaggart's attitude toward her had changed. Just like her opinion of him hadn't altered, not greatly anyway. He was still reckless and more prone to grunt than speak, but she could see he had a few good qualities too. For one, he seemed genuinely concerned that Lady Thorne and Gracie enjoyed a lovely holiday, and Edith wouldn't spoil it by contradicting her employer.
She clamped her lips together and shrugged slightly.
Lady Thorne sighed. "Very well then."
Edith supposed the baroness expected a response, or at least a reaction to her offer to stay in Scotland. "I should go, I think." Edith didn't know if she meant outside or back to London when the Thornes departed Aldmist Fell, but she definitely wanted to escape this awkward moment.
Lady Th
orne's smile reappeared. "Fergus and Gracie are outside feeding the horse. He smuggled a few carrots from his mother's kitchen, and Gracie couldn't wait any longer for you to come below stairs. Have a lovely time touring the estate."
Edith mumbled her thanks and hurried for the front door. On the drive, she spied the brawny Scot standing beside a bay mare hooked to a black sleigh. The backseat was taken up with the largest picnic hamper she'd ever seen, and the front barely looked big enough to hold her and Mr. McTaggart, much less Gracie too. He casually gripped the horse's bridle and laughed at something Gracie said as she held a carrot to the mare's lips. In unguarded moments, Mr. McTaggart's jaw lost its hard edge. He was not classically handsome like Lord Thorne, but he possessed a ruggedness that made Edith's pulse race a little faster. When he decided to turn his attentions toward courting a woman, he should have no trouble securing a wife, provided he began using the brain God had given him.
"Gracie, do be careful," she said when the girl's fingers came too close to the horse's enormous teeth.
Mr. McTaggart made a sound deep in his throat and gently tugged the horse's bridle to get the animal's attention. Gracie looked toward Edith with a small frown marring her brow.
"Molly won't hurt me."
"No' on purpose," Mr. McTaggart said, "but Mistress Gallagher is right to remind you to watch yer fingers. One nip from old Molly and you willna make that mistake again." His lips curved into a warm smile that reached his green eyes as Edith approached. "Good morning, lass."
"Good morning, Mr. McTaggart." She returned his smile, conscious of his gaze locked on her.
He nodded toward Gracie. "Show Mistress Gallagher how I taught you to feed Molly."
The girl wrapped her fingers around the carrot so it stuck up from her fist and held it out to the mare. The horse sniffed her hand until she found the carrot and took it.
"Well done." Mr. McTaggart tweaked Gracie's red nose before pulling another piece of carrot from his coat pocket. "Would you like to feed Molly, Mistress Gallagher?"
Edith balked. "Me? But I've never…"
She'd spent her life in the city avoiding being trampled by horses in the streets. The thought of standing close to the intimidating creature made her tremble.
"It is time you did, lass." He held his hand out to her. "I willna let her hurt you."
Gracie turned to Edith with raised brows. "You aren't afraid, are you, Edith?" Then she addressed Mr. McTaggart. "If she's not afraid of you, she's not afraid of Molly."
Mr. McTaggart laughed. "Aye. Fair enough, lassie. Mistress Gallagher has never been afraid of goin' toe to toe with me. She's a brave one, she is."
Warmth spread through Edith at their praise. She wasn't brave, of course, but she wanted to live up to their expectations. Tentatively, she placed her hand in Mr. McTaggart's and allowed him to draw her to his side.
"Hold it in your fist like Miss Gracie did." As she followed his directions, he slid his hand to the small of her back. A shiver raced through her. "You can do it, lass. I will keep you safe."
Perhaps he would protect her from the horse, but who would protect her from him? Coming along on the sleigh ride seemed like a bad idea now that she was standing beside him and savoring the heat of his touch penetrating the pelisse.
He leaned his head close to hers and softly spoke words of encouragement as she inched her fist toward the mare. "Steady, lass. Dinna jerk yer hand back or you'll confuse her. I dinna want her learning to grab a treat while she can or she might start ta bite."
Edith didn't find this especially comforting, but with his strong presence at her side, she discovered the courage she needed. When the mare's velvety lips nibbled at her fist, she sucked in a sharp breath but held still. The horse was gentle when she latched on to the carrot, as if she knew Edith was nervous.
"Verra well done, lass." Mr. McTaggart's lips brushed Edith's earlobe as he whispered into her ear. Suddenly, she was warm all over and the pelisse felt too confining. When he withdrew from her side, however, it didn't take long for the cold air to chill her again.
Gracie tugged at his sleeve. "Can I feed Molly another?"
"That's enough for now." Mr. McTaggart swung the girl in the air to carry her to the sleigh. "If you feed Molly too much, she'll want ta take a nap instead of pulling us around the estate."
Edith followed them. A thick fur pelt lay over the seat, and Mr. McTaggart lifted it for Gracie to slide onto the seat. "In the middle, lass." He escorted Edith to her side and offered her a hand up. "Watch the stones. They'll keep you warm, but I dinna want you to trip."
Two large, flat stones lay on the footboards and heat radiated from them as if they had been warmed in a fire. Once she and Gracie were situated with the fur pelt over their laps, he rounded the back of the sleigh and climbed beside Gracie. It was a snug fit, but perfect for the frosty day. Mr. McTaggart winked at Edith over Gracie's head. "Let the adventure begin."
He made a clicking noise with his mouth and the mare took off in a trot.
Kissed by a Scottish Rogue: Chapter Four
FERGUS DREW THE HORSE AND SLEIGH to a halt on a hill overlooking the lands of Aldmist Fell. The fields were buried beneath snow, so there wasn't much to show Mistress Gallagher, but he still took pride in the land under his care. He pointed toward the valley. "When planting season arrives, that field will be full of bere."
"Bear?" Mistress Gallagher turned wide eyes on him. "How horrible. What will you do?"
Fergus scratched his jaw. "Eh…"
"I saw a bear at the Royal Menagerie." Gracie grinned up at him, pulled her hand from her fur muff to make a claw then growled.
"Sassenachs," he muttered toward the sky, shaking his head in mock distress. "No' that kind of bear, lassie. Bere is a grain. Like barley."
"Oh!" Mistress Gallagher said. "That sounds much safer."
Gracie turned her curious gaze on him. "Are there really bear at Aldmist Fell?"
"No' unless you brought one in yer trunk."
Mistress Gallagher laughed, her blue eyes twinkling. "Scotland is such a strange land. I don't know much about it."
"It's no' so strange. You would grow to like it weel enough if you lived here."
Her merriment fled and a small crease appeared between her brows before she directed her gaze straight ahead. "I didn't mean to sound patronizing. I simply meant—"
Miss Gracie bolted from the seat. "Let's have a look around." Fergus juggled the reins as she scrambled over him, kneeing him in the stomach.
"Oof!"
"Gracie!" Mistress Gallagher reached for her charge, but the lassie was too quick. Her boots landed in the snow with a muffled thud. Fergus drew in a wheezing breath.
Mistress Gallagher froze, perhaps realizing she was draped across his lap. Her warm body in such close proximity elicited an ache in his lower belly that had nothing to do with the blow to his midsection.
"Come on," Miss Gracie called to them. "Let's roll down the hill." The lassie dropped to the snow and started down the hill before either he or Mistress Gallagher could react.
"Wait!" Mistress Gallagher nearly fell when she clambered from her side of the sleigh.
"She'll be fine," Fergus said as the lassie built up speed and her legs and arms flung about wildly. Her screeching laughter carried on the air.
Mistress Gallagher stopped at the place where Miss Gracie began her descent. "How do you know she'll be fine? What if she knocks her head on a rock, or worse? I promised Lavinia I would watch out for her."
Fergus secured the reins and climbed from the sleigh to place his arm around her shoulders when she slipped on the snow. She inhaled sharply, but didn't pull away even after she regained her balance.
"Yer a good watcher, lass," he said. "Your friend Lavinia will have nothing but praise for you."
Miss Gracie reached the bottom of the slope and flopped on her back. The lassie giggled and yelled out. "That was fun. I want to do it again."
Mistress Gallagher looked up at him; the wor
ry lines on her forehead disappeared. "She wasn't hurt."
"No' unless all that giggling gives her a bellyache. Many a McTaggart has taken a roll down the hills and everyone has lived to roll another day."
Mistress Gallagher's chuckle was airy. "You probably think I'm a ninnyhammer for worrying so much, but I owe Lavinia my life. I could not live with myself if I disappointed her."
"You feel you owe her for taking you when she left the brothel." He didn't release her as he moved to take Molly's bridle before the mare decided to bolt and leave them stranded. Miss Gracie remained at the bottom of the hill on her back, swinging her legs and arms to make arches in the snow.
Mistress Gallagher leaned against him as if seeking warmth. "I do owe her for convincing Lord St. Ambrose to allow me to live with her when he set her up in Chelsea, but she saved me long before the marquess became her benefactor."
Fergus held his tongue. Having been guilty in the past of saying the wrong words to her at the wrong moment, he didn't want to risk speaking. She was confiding in him, and he wouldn't give her cause to second guess her decision.
"Lavinia found me in the alley behind Madam Montgomery's. I was sick with a fever and had gone several days without a meal. I no longer felt the hunger. Lavinia spotted me from her chamber window that morning. She asked Madam Montgomery to come to my assistance, but the woman advised her to forget about me. The madam said it wouldn't be long before I would know everlasting peace."
His gut tightened in anger. Ignoring another person's suffering was the definition of evil.
Mistress Gallagher smiled ruefully. "Lavinia didn't forget about me, however. She is not one to be ordered about. Still, it was early afternoon before she defied Madam Montgomery and brought me inside. Lavinia was new to the brothel and indebted to the madam. She risked her livelihood to help me."
In London, Helena—Lady Thorne—had risked her own livelihood to find her younger sisters. Her family had been living in poverty when Helena was taken from her home. Creating better lives for her kin had outweighed any concern for herself. It seemed her sister Lavinia shared Helena's bravery and selflessness.
Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 39