Brenna nodded to herself. Miss Rosemoor and I shall get on verra well, indeed. In minutes, Celeste had helped her change into an appropriate dress, and she followed Miss Rosemoor to the front hall. Retrieving her shawl from a peg on the wall, she stepped out into the bright sunshine with a light heart.
A half hour later, they reached the park and made their way toward the gatehouse for some refreshment.
“There’s Colin,” Jane said, motioning toward a table in the corner. “I hope you don’t mind, I asked him to join us.”
“Nay, not at all,” Brenna murmured. In fact, she was pleased to see him again. Much as she hated to admit it, something about him intrigued her, even if he was nothing more than an English gentleman of leisure.
“There you are, dear sister,” Colin called out, rising.
Brenna stepped out from behind Miss Rosemoor, and she saw his eyes instantly darken.
“Where’s Lucy?” he asked.
“Not feeling well, I’m afraid, but look who I’ve brought instead. Lady Margaret Danville.”
“Lady Maclachlan,” he said, but did not take her proffered hand.
“Lady Maclachlan?” Miss Rosemoor asked.
“Brenna. You must call me Brenna.”“I thought your mother called you Margaret?” Poor Miss Rosemoor looked entirely confused.
“Oh, she does call me Margaret. Despite my pleas to the contrary, I’m afraid. I’ve answered to ‘Brenna’ for so many years now that I’m simply not comfortable with ‘Margaret.’ When my mother—or the woman I thought was my mother—passed away, I became the Lady Maclachlan. I don’t mean to confuse ye. If we’re to be friends, then I hope you’ll simply call me Brenna.”
“Of course, then,” Miss Rosemoor answered. “And so you must call me Jane.”
“Well,” Mr. Rosemoor said, smiling broadly, “now that that’s settled, I’m afraid I must take my leave.”
“Whatever do you mean, Colin?” Jane reached for her brother’s sleeve. “You’re not leaving us. First we shall have some refreshments, and then you will escort us out into the gardens.”
“I’m afraid I have a pressing business concern, Jane.”
“You haven’t any pressing business. You said you had no engagements today.”
“That’s when I thought Lucy was joining you,” he said quietly through clenched teeth.
“Lucy?” Brenna asked. He had seemed rather disappointed when he’d seen her accompanying Jane. Who was this woman, Lucy, to him? Perhaps the woman he’d hoped to marry?
“Lucy, Lady Mandeville,” Jane explained. “My dearest friend. I hope you will soon make her acquaintance.”
Mr. Rosemoor cleared his throat. “But you must see that it is rather imprudent of me to remain in your company now.”
“No, I don’t see, not at all, Colin. I only see that you are being rude to my new friend.” Jane turned toward Brenna, her gaze entreating. “Isn’t he, Lady Margar—Brenna?”
Brenna said nothing. If he were so desirous to be rid of her company, then she had no wish to convince him otherwise. He must be very fond of this Lady Mandeville and far less fond of her than she had supposed. Why did that bother her so? She wasn’t sure, but it vexed her nonetheless. Quite so. She only shrugged, reminding herself to be more wary where the English were concerned. If their servants were any indication, then they were indeed a closed and difficult-to-read bunch.
Blast it, Colin thought. Was his sister so stubborn as that? Didn’t she realize that his company put Brenna’s reputation in peril? Brenna might not know the reasons behind his reluctance to remain, but Jane bloody well did.
Both women continued to regard him with irritated stares as he reached up to readjust his cravat. No doubt he had insulted Brenna, and he was sorry for it.
“Oh, all right,” he relented. “But let’s be quick about it, shall we?”
“I must apologize for my brother,” Jane said, casting him a scathing glare as she took a seat at the table. “He’s not normally such a bear.”
Colin held out a chair for Brenna. “Aren’t I? Well, I must try harder, then.”
Brenna met his gaze briefly before settling herself into her seat. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes.
“Dinna fret about it, Miss Rosemoor. I had ample time to sketch your brother’s character when we last met, and I didna find his manners in any way lacking. In fact, I thought him quite the proper gentleman,” she said, her tone light and playful. “But then, I am beginning to question my instincts.”
“Hmmm, yes, well.” No way to answer that one. She was probably right to question her instincts, at least where he was concerned.
“You must tell me more, Lady Brenna,” Jane pressed. “I find it most diverting to hear how my brother conducts himself in society when I am not there to witness it.”
“Truly, there isna much to tell. Mr. Rosemoor was solicitous and kind, despite the awkward nature of our meeting. We bumped into each other in Lady Brandon’s garden, ye know. Quite literally. I fear I made a rather inelegant first impression.”
“Fascinating. I do believe he withheld that bit of information in his retelling of the encounter, didn’t you, Colin?”
Colin only shrugged.
“Anyway,” Jane said with a shake of her head, “do go on. I must hear more.”
Colin rolled his eyes heavenward, not wishing to remain the topic of conversation. At the very least, he didn’t have to listen to it. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and fetch us some refreshments.” He strode off toward the busy counter, ignoring the curious glances cast his way as he headed across the room. Best get used to it, he thought. Speculation and innuendo would likely be his constant companion from now on.
Moments later, he made his way back through the crowd to their table.
“Ye should see the mists rise above Ben Nevis,” Brenna was saying, and Colin heaved a sigh of relief at the shift of topic. “‘Tis the most beautiful sight in the world. When I was a lass, I was convinced ye could climb Ben Nevis, up through the veil of mist and right into heaven.”
“How lovely,” Jane murmured.
“Aye, and in the glen between the mountain and the loch is a circle of ancient standing stones. When ye stand in the circle, it’s almost as if ye can feel strange currents in the air. If fairies ever existed, then surely they lived there.”
“It sounds truly magical,” Jane said. “I’ve never been to the Highlands. I’d love to travel there someday.”
Brenna’s face lit with a smile. “If ye do, ye must come to Glenbroch. ‘Tis not the grandest of homes, more a manor house than a castle, but ye’ll not find more pleasing surroundings anywhere.”
“I’d like that very much.” Jane looked up, suddenly noticing Colin there, hovering over the table with a tray like a manservant. “Oh, Colin, thank you.” She reached for a cheesecake. “Brenna was just telling me about her home.”
“I heard.” He moved aside his coattails and took a seat. “And it does sound enchanting. You sound as if you are counting the days till your return.”
“I verra much look forward to my return at the close of the Season.” She reached for a cake and took a dainty bite.
“So soon?” Jane asked. “But what of your family here?”
“I’m grateful for their attentions, truly I am, and my affection for them grows daily. Yet Scotland is my home, and I hope to make them understand that. I fear they have great hopes for me, but I canna share those hopes.”
“I suppose like every other girl’s parents, they wish to marry you off to the highest bidder,” Jane said with a frown.
“’Tis true. They canna understand that I’ve no wish to remain here in England, shirking my duties. What they see as a burden—running Glenbroch—I see as a source of pride and joy.”
Jane turned toward Colin with a broad smile, her eyes twinkling with pleasure. “Colin, she must meet Lucy, mustn’t she?” She returned her attention to Brenna, laying a hand on her wrist. “The two of you wi
ll get on so well. She is as passionate as you are about her own interests—veterinary arts, if you can believe it.”
“She sounds like a fascinating woman,” Brenna murmured, then took a sip of creamy syllabub.
Colin nodded, then quirked a brow. “Lucy is nothing if not fascinating.”
Jane nodded her agreement. “So you manage Glenbroch yourself?”
“With the help of an excellent land steward. He’s been with our family for many years, and I trust him wholeheartedly.”
Colin sat forward in his seat, brushing crumbs from his lapel. “Tell me, are your tenant farms faring well? Or have you considered clearing the land for sheep?”
Judging by the way her eyes began to flash, Colin realized he’d misspoken.
“I suppose ye think the land clearances a fine idea. More sheep mean more money, dinna they?”
“I suppose. I haven’t really considered—”
“And what do ye suppose happens to the crofters once they are forced from their land?”
“I confess, I haven’t much thought upon it. They take up trade? Emigrate to the Americas?”
“Leave their homeland? Abandon the lands they’ve worked for generations, oftentimes with no more than an hour’s notice, else their croft will burn over their head, Mr. Rosemoor? Have ye not heard of the atrocities in Sutherland? The old and infirm, burned to death in their beds?”
Colin grimaced, shaking his head in disgust. “Good Lord, no. I’ve heard nothing of that.”
“Surely your newspapers carried the accounts of the violence being committed in the name of progress,” Brenna said, the swell of her décolletage rising and falling at a rapid rate, her cheeks stained an angry red. The cakes sat untouched, and Jane silently stared at Colin, her mouth agape.
Colin swallowed, then cleared his throat. “I must apologize, Lady Brenna. I did not mean to make light of what is obviously a more serious matter than I supposed.” He looked up and saw the eyes of all the shop’s patrons upon them. He rose from his seat and offered his arm. “Perhaps we should adjourn for that stroll, ladies.”
“What a fine idea,” Jane said brightly. “Lady Brenna?”
“Of course.” Brenna rose and took Colin’s arm. “I seem to have lost my appetite.”
In silence they made their way outside and turned onto a pleasant lane, one that led toward an ornamental pond spanned by a wooden footbridge. It seemed a fine destination, away from prying eyes and sharp ears, both of which seemed to follow him at every turn these days.
“Oh, dear!” Jane cried, shaking her head. “I seem to have left behind my reticule. Go on ahead; I’ll catch up in a moment.”
“Jane, wait.” Colin released Brenna’s arm and took two strides after his sister, whose lemon-yellow gown fluttered in the breeze behind her as she hurried back to the shop without heeding his protests. “I’ll go for it,” he called out after her, just as she disappeared around the bend.
“Well, then.” He turned back toward Brenna, who was eyeing him with obvious curiosity. “I suppose I won’t.”
Chapter 5
“Shall we follow her back inside?” Brenna asked.
“No, of course not.” With a tight smile, Colin offered her his arm. “She’ll catch up with us eventually. Stubborn girl.”
“Your sister is lovely, indeed, Mr. Rosemoor, just as ye said she was. I’m verra pleased to have made her acquaintance.” Brenna placed her hand in the crook of his arm and gazed off toward the footbridge. “Shall we continue to stroll? ‘Tis a fine afternoon. Far better to be out enjoying the day than sitting inside.” She looked over her shoulder, surprised to see a number of ladies milling about behind them, watching them, whispering amongst themselves. She distinctly heard Mr. Rosemoor’s name carried on the scented breeze. If he heard them, he gave no indication. Instead, he kept his gaze trained ahead, toward their destination, as they leisurely made their way toward the bridge.
“I’m quite fond of outdoor pursuits myself,” he said. “I must say, I’m pleased to see you don’t seem to suffer any ill effects from my trouncing you in Lady Brandon’s garden.”
“Nay, none at all. I’m a sturdy girl, Mr. Rosemoor.”
He smiled down at her warmly as they stepped onto the bridge’s wide wooden planks. “‘Sturdy’ isn’t perhaps a word I’d choose to describe you. Makes you sound like a tree. A large tree. I’d rate you a sapling, at most.”
“I’m liable to lose a few leaves, then, in this breeze.” She paused to reach up and steady her bonnet as a particularly robust gust threatened its angle atop her head. Once the wind subsided, she released her bonnet and they continued on, cresting the bridge’s arch and moving toward the iron railing at its edge.
Brenna removed her hand from his elbow and leaned against the scrolled ironwork, looking down at the lily pads that dotted the reflection pool below. Her own face, slightly distorted and dancing in the rippled water, looked back. The whisper of soft wool brushed against her forearm, and, keeping her gaze on the waters below, she watched as Mr. Rosemoor’s reflection joined her own. He towered above her, the sunlight illuminating his fair hair, turning it into molten gold. He stood so close that, in their reflection, she could not tell where her person ended and his began. His nearness unsettled her, even as it excited her. Her pulse quickened; her hand trembled perceptibly on the sun-warmed iron. She took a deep, steadying breath and forced her voice to assume a neutral, conversational tone. “I must confess, I’m finding the constraints of London a wee bit stifling,” she said, unable to tear her gaze away from the pool. “’Twould seem I’m not allowed to engage in the activities I most enjoy. Instead, I’m encouraged to take up things in which I have neither interest nor talent.”
“Tell me, what would you be doing now, if you remained at home in Scotland?”
She looked up, off toward the horizon. “Oh, so many things. Riding the fields with my steward. Keeping the ledgers. Visiting my tenants, perhaps, and making certain that no one was in want of any comfort. ‘Tis a beautiful summer day, so perhaps I’d ride out to the glen and bathe in the river.”
“Not alone, I hope.”
“With no siblings, I’ve grown accustomed to my solitude.”
“But bathing in the river? Alone?” He shook his head. “Certainly not safe for a lady.”
She turned to face him, surprised by such a statement. “Why ever not? I’m a strong swimmer. And there’s nothing more peaceful than lying on the stones by the river in the warm summer sun, listening to the chatter of birds while waiting for my gown to dry.” Brenna sighed wistfully. How she longed to enjoy such an afternoon. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, imagining that the golden sunlight that warmed her face shone down from Glenbroch’s clear summer sky instead, that the breeze that stirred the hem of her gown and ruffled the trimmings on her bonnet had blown across the loch and through the glen, redolent with the honeyed scent of heather.
In her mind’s eye, she could see a single, majestic golden eagle arc across the sky, its wings spread wide as it glided above the loch’s dark waters. Her favorite mare would be grazing nearby, tossing her head with a whinny and enjoying the day’s freedoms as much as her mistress. Brenna shivered, remembering the feel of a cool, damp shift clinging wetly to her body as the warm rays dried her skin. Ah, the simple pleasures of home. She’d taken such days for granted.
At last she opened her eyes, only to find Mr. Rosemoor’s blue-gray gaze studying her intensely, an almost wicked smile dancing on his lips.
“You must satisfy my curiosity at once,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Tell me, the gown—is it drying on your person or off?”
Brenna gasped, heat flooding her cheeks at once.
“I must apologize,” he said, his voice returned to its usual timbre and inflection. “I’m afraid I couldn’t help myself, not with such a mental image as that.”
“Ye must think me terribly coarse and vulgar for saying such things to a gentleman.”
“Actually, I find you qu
ite refreshing. And perhaps I’m not such a gentleman, besides.”
“Aren’t ye, Mr. Rosemoor?” She tilted her head to one side and eyed him quizzically, watching as he arched one brow. A muscle in his jaw tensed.
“The ton no longer believes I am.” His tone was cool, clipped. “I hope you’ll pardon my candor, Lady Brenna. I don’t generally go about airing my misfortune to those I’m so newly acquainted with. Still, I feel I must warn you that my reputation has recently come into question. In fact, one might say I’ve entirely fallen from grace.”
“Then ye haven’t yet straightened out the misunderstanding ye spoke of? Something to do with winning at cards?”
“No. Not yet, at any rate.”
“And the woman ye meant to marry?”
“Miss Lyttle-Brown?” He shook his head. “There’s no longer any chance of that.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. She must have been a verra special lady, indeed.”
“In all honesty, I’m beginning to think I entirely misjudged her character. Perhaps her defection will prove for the best.”
Brenna only nodded in reply.
“Still, you might wish to reconsider keeping my company, in light of my current state of affairs. I vow I would not think less of you for it.”
“Nay, Mr. Rosemoor. I’m glad ye feel ye can speak plainly with me about such matters, and I admire your honesty. Ye have offered me naught but comfort and understanding regarding my own discontent, and I would do the same for ye.”
He smiled down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling quite pleasingly with the effort. “I do believe we shall be great friends, Lady Brenna Maclachlan of Glenbroch.”
“I hope so, Mr. Rosemoor,” she answered. “I’d like that verra much.”
At the sound of approaching footsteps, Mr. Rosemoor turned toward the path from which they’d arrived. He raised one hand to shield his eyes from the near-blinding sun. “Ah, I see Jane is returned to us at last. Took her long enough,” he added under his breath.
Undressed (Undone by Love) Page 5