Never Kiss a Laird

by Byrnes, Tess

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 deb
ts. 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.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Sally demanded angrily.

  “Mind your manners, girl,” Lady Waverly snapped. “Mr. Atherly, I apologize for my granddaughter. She seems to have forgotten that she is a gentleman’s daughter.”

  Sally bit her lip, her mind in a whirl. She watched as her father detached her hand, and crossed the room to stand beside his wife. She looked over to her grandmother, who was smiling triumphantly. She felt herself to be without support, and knew that it behooved her to proceed carefully.

  “I am surprised to see you here, Mr. Atherly,” she forced herself to say in a more moderate tone. “My father did not inform me that you were here.”

  “He would have had a hard time doing so, since I did not know that I was coming here myself until I left London yesterday.” He gave Sally a boyish, smile, and said “I was helpless to stay away, you see. I didn’t know how much I had lost when you sent me away, Sally, until I tried to forget you.” His blue eyes caressed, with a hint of mischief. “You see, I couldn’t do it.”

  He’s good, Sally thought with a twist of her lips. The Viscount was regarding him with beaming approval, and even Sally’s mother appeared to be touched by the sincere note in his voice. Sally, observing him with a slightly more cynical eye, was not impressed. She could recall numerous instances in their childhood when a much younger Simon Atherly had used his charm to get whatever he wanted, and she was far from succumbing.

  “Gaming debts, Mr. Atherly?” she inquired sweetly.

  The self-satisfied smile was momentarily wiped from Simon’s handsome face, but he recovered quickly. “You underrate your charms scandalously, my dear. No, it is you, and you alone that lured me away from London.”

  “You have wasted you time, I’m afraid,” she replied calmly.

  “Let’s not be hasty,” Lady Denham broke in, giving Sally a quelling look. “Simon, you must tell me how you left your dear mother, and your sisters. Will they remove to Brighton for the summer again this year?” She took his arm as she spoke, and walked with him towards the windows on the far side of the room, nodding significantly at her mother as she did so.

  “Well, miss,” Lady Waverly addressed Sally in a hissing whisper. “What have you to say for yourself? I hope you mean to tell me exactly where you have been all these weeks?”

  Sally pressed her lips together, trying to get her temper under control. “It is a pleasure to see you, Grandmother. I want to thank you for allowing me to stay with you,” she uttered as pleasantly as she could.

  “Soft words,” Lady Waverly spat. She eyed her granddaughter thoughtfully. In different circumstances she would almost admire the girl’s cool attitude. And she certainly was a lovely creature. Lady Waverly shook her head. That combination of beauty, charm and spunk could have made the chit the toast of London, she thought despondently. Instead the world viewed her as a light skirt, and the wretched girl didn’t have the grace to feel ashamed about it. An unwilling smile softened Lady Waverly’s pinched features. Her granddaughter certainly had spirit. She also had a shredded reputation and the stubbornness of a mule, the older woman mused. Having one of those traits in common with her granddaughter, Lady Waverly took a breath and spoke more temperately than she otherwise would have.

  “I understand better than you think I do, young lady,” Lady Waverly informed Sally grimly. “I know that you have been dealt an unfair hand, and you are trying to take control. I admire your spirit, but that does not change your situation.”

  Sally met her grandmother’s eyes. “I do not think you entirely understand my situation, Grandmother. I am entirely innocent of the rumours that were spread about me.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Lady Waverly jeered. “Do you think that makes a jot of difference now? Society knows that you spent the night with Simon Atherly. Period. You will never convince anyone otherwise now.”

  Sally’s eyes blazed with anger. “I only need to convince my family, ma’am. Those persons who should be disposed to believe and support me.”

  “Impudent girl!” Lady Waverly exclaimed, causing Lady Denham and Simon to look in their direction. Lowering her voice, she continued. “Do you mean those persons, as you term them, whom you should be protecting as well? Do you realize that your entire family shares your shame? Your brothers will be tainted by association with a girl who is no better than a strumpet in the eyes of society? Your parents must endure veiled insults and slights, unable to mention their daughter in polite company.”

  Sally’s cheeks whitened at the harsh words. Seeing this, Lady Waverly pushed her advantage. “Contrast that with your future if you do the sensible thing, and marry Mr. Atherly. Your family’s reputation restored, your father able to hold his head high again.”

  At this the Viscount, who had been watching his daughter’s face, demurred. “I am proud to be Sally’s father, no matter what,” he assured his mother-in-law. “I am urging her to this marriage for her own good.”

  “Then you are as big a fool as your daughter,” Lady Waverly informed him in disgusted tones. She turned to Sally. “You will do the right thing, young lady. Until you accept the offer you that you have been incredibly fortunate to have received, you will be in this house under constant guard.”

  Sally sprang to her feet, outraged. Before she could speak, the door opened, and Marsters informed the little group that dinner was ready. Suppressing her angry retort, Sally was impelled to take Simon’s proffered arm, and they walked without speaking into the dining room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sally sat up in the four poster bed, a small figure surrounded by bolsters and pillows. She hugged her knees, and stared off into space, her mind racing. She had thought that coming back to her grandmother’s house meant a safe, if dull and disgraced, existence. She had accepted that she would have to endure her grandmother’s lectures, and submit to her out-dated ideas of decorous behavior. Sally had been prepared to tolerate all th
is until she could find a way out. The arrival of Simon Atherly onto the scene had changed everything. The pressure to accept his suit would be intense, and it appeared that she would be under constant scrutiny until she did so.

  Sally threw off her covers, and climbed impatiently out of the bed. There must be a solution, she thought desperately. If she could get a message to Rupert at Castle Kane, perhaps he could find a way to get her to London. Once there, if she could locate her father’s man of business, there was a good chance she would be able to gain control of her fortune.

  She paced back and forth restlessly, and as she wrestled with her dilemma, she was stopped by the sight of her door opening. In no mood to hear anything further from any member of her family, Sally said, “I am extremely tired, and can have no further conversation on this topic tonight.”

  “That is disappointing,” a deep voice replied. “It was not easy to find your room without being discovered.” The Earl of Kane slipped through her chamber door, quietly closing it behind himself.

  Sally’s mouth fell open. “What are you doing here? How ever did you get past my grandmother?”

  “You forget that Lady Waverly is also my godmother. I spent a lot of time in this house when I was young and am only too familiar with how to slip in and out undetected.”

  Sally felt a smile tugging at her lips for the first time all day. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked at the very self-satisfied lord. He was dressed inexplicably in evening dress, a long tailed coat of severe, black superfine cloth, knee breeches and stockings. But his hair was tousled as if he had been riding, and there was a smudge of dirt on his cheek. He looked young, mischievous, and to Sally’s eyes, entirely desirable.

  “I don’t understand a thing,” she laughed. “Why did you come here? And why on earth are you in evening dress?”

  Hugh glanced down at his clothing. “I received the letter that your groom so kindly brought to me immediately following dinner. My dear, I wish I had stayed in London long enough to have come to your aid.”