Courting the Scot

by Jane Charles

  “Who is Nan?” Rose asked.

  “A kitchen maid. I’ll just go fetch her.”

  Davina darted out the room to fetch the maid and by the time she returned, her brothers and cousins were also present. “I’ve brought Nan.”

  “Ah, good.” Rose brightened. “Would you please play for us, Nan?”

  “It’d be my pleasure.” She bobbed a quick curtsey and walked to the pianoforte. “What would ye like to hear?”

  Rose pursed her lips as if in thought. “Let’s begin with a waltz. It might be easier than a country dance.”

  “Waltz, milady?” Nan asked, her eyes wide.

  “Yes, unless you don’t know any, then we can start with a country dance.”

  Nan blanched. “I only ken hymns, my lady.”

  “Oh dear, that is a problem.” She turned to the gathering, then back to Nan. “Do you know the tempo of a waltz? Perhaps you could play a hymn in that tempo.”

  Nan’s eyes grew wide as she stepped back. “I’ve never heard a waltz or any dance music. I’m sorry.”

  “That is quite all right. We will make do,” Rose assured her. “You can return to the kitchens.”

  The maid bobbed another curtsey and hurried from the room.

  “Make do?” Aiden asked. “How do ye suggest we do that?”

  “I’m so glad you asked, Laird MacGregor.” She offered him a calculating smile. “You are going to count, and loudly.”

  “Ye canna be serious?” he protested.

  “Husbands, Laird MacGregor. Did you forget the reason for this ball?”

  Davina’s stomach tightened. She didn’t want a husband her uncle would pick. She wanted Ian, but there was no guarantee that he’d still want her once he learned what her family had done.

  “Alistair with Arabella, Donovan with Davina, and Cameron, dance with Sheena. Niel, count when your uncle tires,” Rose ordered.

  They gaped at her.

  “Well, get on with it.”

  Her uncle may know how to hum a waltz but this was not going well at all. Especially with Donovan. She’d not be able to walk once they were done. “Would ye quit steppin’ on my toes,” Davina cried.

  “Ye stepped on mine first,” argued Donovan.

  “Well yer sister is stompin’ on mine too.” Cameron glared at Sheena.

  “Yer sister isna much better of a dancer.” Alistair winced and stepped away from Arabella.

  Rose stepped forward. “You act as if you’ve never waltzed before.” She glared at each of them. “Is this how you behave when there is a mishap at a ball?”

  “Of course not,” Donovan insisted.

  “Why?” Rose demanded.

  The nephews looked at one another but did not answer.

  “Because you would never be so cruel as to embarrass your partner, but I doubt you asked them a second time.”

  Each of their faces flushed a bit, which was all the proof she needed. “Laird MacGregor, please partner me to show them how it is done. If the girls pay close attention, they might learn better.”

  Uncle Aiden’s eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before he stepped before her and Rose looked up. “You do know how to waltz?” she asked quietly.

  “Aye.”

  “Do ye need me to hum?” Niel called.

  “No. Lady Bentley and I need no music,” Aiden said without breaking eye contact.

  Davina sucked in a breath. She’d never seen her Uncle Aiden look at anyone the way he was gazing at Rose. She’d hoped they’d make a match and save them all. Perhaps they had already.

  Mesmerized, she watched as they waltzed from one end of the room to the other and back again, without a bit of music or humming to guide their steps. They moved as one, as if they were an extension of the other, never breaking eye contact.

  The two were in love, or at least falling in love, and she was determined to make sure it happened. If Rose married Uncle Aiden, then she’d never stand for his being arrested. At least that was Davina’s hope. But first, she must make sure the two of them came to the same realization that she had, which meant, Uncle Aiden and Rose would need to be together often, and alone whenever possible.

  As they ended, Uncle Aiden executed a bow as Rose curtseyed.

  “That was the loveliest waltz I’ve ever seen,” gushed Sheena.

  “It’s the only one you’ve seen,” Niel argued.

  She pursed her lips and turned. “It was still the loveliest.”

  “Now that you’ve seen it done, would you like to give it another try?” Rose asked.

  “I’m sure we know exactly what to do,” Davina said coming forward and linking her arm with Rose’s. “Thank ye for showing us.Now we can take it from here.”

  “We?” Alistair complained.

  Davina shot him a looked. “Aye. Ye can teach us and we won’t tread upon yer toes. I promise,” Davina insisted with a forced grin and gritted teeth.

  Donovan jerked his arm, then rubbed the inside of his wrist and looked down at Arabella. She widened her eyes and gave him a knowing look.

  So, Arabella had come to the same conclusion as Davina.

  Donovan cleared this throat and looked up. “We can teach them. There is no reason why ye need to remain, Uncle Aiden, Lady Bentley. I’m sure the girls understand, and we will be better teachers.”

  “Are you sure?” Rose asked slowly.

  “Very.”

  She looked at them as if she wasn’t quite convinced and then relaxed. “Very well. Let me know if you need any assistance.”

  “It’s a nice day for a walk in the garden,” Arabella called out.

  Sheena gave Aiden a pointed look and nodded to the outdoors.

  “It is a lovely day. Would you care to take a stroll with me, Lady Bentley?” Uncle Aiden asked.

  “That is very kind of you, Laird MacGregor, but I’d rather rest. This dancing has worn me out.”

  Blast! How were they going to fall even deeper in love if Rose was going to avoid her uncle?

  “Perhaps later?” her uncle inquired.

  “Yes. Perhaps.”

  With that, Rose glided out of the room and Uncle Aiden turned back to his nieces and nephews. “What?”

  “Ye tell us,” Donovan answered.

  “I doona ken what ye mean.”

  “Ye’re in love,” Sheena exclaimed.

  “I most certainly am not.”

  “I think it’s lovely,” said Arabella.

  “I’m pretty sure love isn’t exactly what he’s experiencing,” Alistair mumbled.

  Davina glared at Alistair. Aye, Uncle Aiden wanted Rose. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that, but he was also falling in love, as was Rose. Now, all she had to do was make sure the two of them realized it before Rose’s family arrived and took her away.

  Tomorrow. Ian would see Davina tomorrow and then this would end, he lectured himself as he paced through the library. He was a man, a gentleman, and he would not sully Davina’s reputation by sneaking around as if they were ashamed. He was going to court her properly or not at all. And properly did not mean taking her into the privacy of the woods and seducing her. When he finally saw her tomorrow, he would insist on speaking with Aiden whether she liked it or not. If Aiden was still in Edinburgh, then he’d speak with Alistair, her older brother, who could also grant permission.

  “Ian, why are ye not dressed?” his mother asked from the entrance to the library.

  “Dressed for what?”

  “The ball?”

  “What ball?” Nobody around here held balls.

  “The MacGregors are having a ball. I’m certain I mentioned it.”

  Had his mother lost her mind? “The MacGregors? When did they tell you this?”

  “The invitation was delivered a few days ago. I am certain I mentioned it.”

  “Are you certain?” He was with Davina four days ago and she hadn’t mentioned anything about a blasted ball. Neither had her brother or cousins for that matter. Had Aiden returned from Edinbur
gh, or had the nephews decided to hold one, as unlikely as that seemed?

  But Davina had said she couldn’t see him until Saturday--tomorrow.

  “Do you have the invitation?”

  His mother disappeared, and Ian followed her. She pulled it from a stack of her correspondence in the sitting room and handed it to him. Aiden MacGregor requested their presence at a ball to be held on May 19, 1815. That was today, and it had come from the MacGregors.

  Why the blazes hadn’t Davina mentioned the ball? Did she not want him there? Was that why she put him off until Saturday?

  Something was not right, but he’d be damned if he stayed at home while a ball was going on and he had the opportunity to dance with her without anyone being suspicious. And tonight, he would inform her that they either court in public, or not at all.

  Ian paused on the stairs as he made his way to his chambers. Perhaps there was more to all of this--other reasons she wished to keep their courtship secret. Was she just stringing him along with no intention of a more permanent relationship?

  Whatever her excuses, he would find out tonight.

  Chapter 12

  What the blazes were the Grants doing here? Trepidation swept through every part of Davina’s being the moment Mrs. Grant stepped into the ballroom. Davina thought they’d greeted all of the guests before they’d abandoned the receiving line, yet now the Grants were here, dressed for the ball when they’d not been issued an invitation. So far it was only Mrs. Grant and her two youngest daughters, Fanella and Jesse. Not that it mattered. Any Grant, just one of them, could bring the world down about their ears.

  Did Ian know that they were here? What had he thought when they mentioned the ball? She’d hoped he wouldn’t learn until after it was over and she had a chance to explain, not that she’d formed a reasonable explanation as of yet.

  Blast, she couldn’t think about Ian now—not when Uncle Aiden’s fate was of the utmost importance at the moment and she wasn’t convinced he and Rose had admitted their feelings for each other.

  Davina cast quick glances around the crowded ballroom, looking for her uncle and Rose, but she couldn’t find either. Casually, she made her way to the marble stairs at the back entrance and slowly ascended them until she reached the top, then she turned and made a slow perusal of the room while trying not to make it obvious that she was looking for someone.

  There were so many guests that it was difficult to pick out any one person. However, her Uncle Aiden was a tall man, taller than most. As she did not see him, Davina assumed, and hoped, that her uncle had already seen the Grants and had whisked Rose away and out of sight. Maybe he was locking her in her chamber at this very moment so as not to ruin everything.

  Davina allowed an inward sigh of relief and descended the stairs once more to join their guests while she kept an eye on both the main entrance and the back for the appearance of her uncle.

  Who had invited the Grants? It certainly wasn’t her. When she’d prepared the guest list, Davina had intentionally left their names off.

  Had Rose invited them? She had assisted in writing out a number of the invitations. Had she thought the Grants might rescue her?

  Oh dear, what if Rose wasn’t falling in love with Uncle Aiden at all, but pretending to do so and going along while waiting for the moment when she was rescued and could turn on them all?

  No, Rose wouldn’t do that to them, would she?

  Unless it had all been a ruse. Had Rose been agreeable so that no one would suspect her of duplicity? Was she right now waiting for the perfect moment to announce to the Grants how she came to be here and beg to be rescued? Would she do so in front of the entire ballroom filled with their neighbors and friends?

  Since Rose had no way of knowing where she was and no means of escape, had she arranged for the Grants’ presence this evening for that very purpose?

  Did she intend on ruining her family and breaking Uncle Aiden’s heart all at the same time?

  Movement at the entrance caught Davina’s attention and her stomach tightened anew as Lachlan Grant, the Marquess of Brachton, paused just inside the entry. At the sight of his wife, the former Madeline Trent, Davina’s heart stopped.

  It was over. Davina’s family would be forever altered tonight. Once the Grants learned how Rose came to be with them, they would first take her away, and then they would see that her uncle was arrested.

  Kidnapping was a hanging offense as Alistair had told her, not that she mentioned it to Sheena or Arabella because she didn’t wish to alarm them. Uncle Aiden had to know, of course, and now that Lady Brachton was here, the end was near.

  How the blazes did any of the Grants learn about the ball?

  From across the room, her oldest cousin Donovan glared at Davina. Loathing, anger, betrayal and a hint of panic registered in his green eyes. Davina wanted to call out to him that it hadn’t been her. Instead she held up her hands and shook her head, hoping he’d realize she was just as stunned and frightened as he was.

  Alistair held the same suspicion and anger in his blue eyes when he glanced in her direction as he stalked toward Donovan. Did they truly think her so foolish as to invite the Grants?

  The two cousins conferred, their heads close together, before they strode across the ballroom to greet Lord and Lady Brachton.

  Davina’s heart pounded with enough force that she feared it just might burst, as tension laced up her shoulders, neck, and into her head, the pulse producing pain at the base of her skull. She didn’t have time for a headache right now. She needed to think, plan and figure a way out of the treacherous predicament in which they now found themselves.

  After what Davina assumed was a pleasant greeting, Donovan and Alistair escorted Lord and Lady Brachton from the ballroom and disappeared.

  What were they doing?

  Davina stayed rooted in her spot, her mind a jumble, panic ensuing as she imagined the night unfolding with arrests, accusations and shame cast upon her family for all of eternity.

  Gara, formerly a Grant, with her husband Magnus Reid, joined Fanella, Jesse and their mother, but it wasn’t until the Grants moved further into the ballroom that Davina saw him—Ian Grant. In that instant, all of Davina’s hopes and dreams disintegrated into dust and memories.

  Ian Grant, the most handsome man in all of Scotland, with his blonde hair, light blue eyes, wide shoulders and very fine form. Once Ian learned what Uncle Aiden had done and that Davina hadn’t freed Lady Bentley, he’d never look upon her with affection again. He’d never try to steal a kiss or visit her whenever possible. He would hate her, and for good reason.

  Oh, why couldn’t they have stayed in London longer? At least it would have given her more time to come up with a reasonable excuse for what had happened and why she appeared duplicitous. No, not appeared, she was, and it was not over yet.

  Who was she fooling? It was over before tonight. Even if she had still hoped to come up with a plan to keep Rose away from Ian tomorrow, Davina always knew that it was only a matter of time before Ian learned the full, ugly truth about her family. She just hadn’t been ready to lose him yet.

  The blue of Ian’s eyes deepened and the side of his mouth quirked in what appeared to be an appreciative smile. Her body heated, as it often did when Ian looked at her in such a manner, but it did nothing to quell her panic. In fact, it made it all the worse.

  He lifted his glass and nodded, as if in a toast her, and Davina summoned what she could to return the pleasant smile, knowing that tonight was the last time Ian Grant would ever look at her with anything resembling fondness, then she slipped through the crowd and disappeared down the dark corridor and out into the gardens.

  Ian stood at the threshold of the MacGregor ballroom. A ballroom he’d never had the pleasure of entering. A ballroom he hadn’t even known existed.

  He knew the Annagburn manor was large and he had visited the home more times than he could count, but he assumed the rooms making up the first level were a maze of parlors, sitting rooms,
a breakfast and dining room, a library and such. This opulent ballroom was a surprise discovery, from the parquet floor to the ornamental wall moldings and crystal chandeliers. Hundreds of candles brightened the room and reflected against the glass doors leading into the gardens. Vast gardens that he had strolled, but always entered off the parlor, library, or from the side of the manor.

  He’d been told a story, years ago, about a former Grant who had married an heiress, but refused to use her funds to better their life. They lived in a small cottage, but he promised her that one day, she’d have the finest manor in all of Scotland, ballroom included. Ian had assumed the ballroom was meant in jest, but apparently, the former Grant had kept his word. Though, why it was necessary was beyond Ian. He couldn’t recall one time a ball was ever held at Annagburn before tonight. Further, Aiden MacGregor wasn’t one to entertain—ever. The only large gatherings Ian had ever been a part of at Annagburn usually followed funerals and those didn’t require the use of a ballroom. There had been three such funerals in the past eight years. Aiden MacGregor’s two older brothers: Calum and Beathan, and then there had been Aiden’s wife, Meg, and their newly born child.

  The Grants had arrived later than they anticipated and Ian needed to find Davina. Not only did he wish to dance with her, but she also owed him an explanation as to why the ball had not been mentioned when they last spoke, or why her uncle had returned to Annagburn earlier than she’d claimed. At least he assumed Aiden was here because Ian couldn’t imagine Donovan, or any of the men, having a ball without their uncle’s knowledge. Hell, he couldn’t imagine them wanting to hold a ball at all. Why had Davina led him to believe they would not see one another until Saturday when she’d known his family would be in attendance tonight? Did she think he wouldn’t want to attend or wouldn’t want the opportunity to dance with her?

  Slowly, he made his way down into the crowd and toward his family who had already entered, while he tried to spy Davina amongst the guests.

  Davina MacGregor—the prettiest lass in all of Scotland with her black-as-midnight hair and deep brown eyes, so different from the normally fair women who inhabited this wee bit of Scotland would be his. Furthermore, he would not wait until tomorrow to speak to Aiden, if her uncle was here. The lass had put Ian off long enough and it was time that he took control of the courting. Besides, tonight was perfect since it was likely Aiden would be in an agreeable mood.