by Lauren Smith
“Much safer,” Nyle agreed. “Though still unnecessary. There is nothing wrong with Moira’s appearance.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” her mother insisted before turning to Moira. “Now, up to your room. We have a lot to do before you are ready to be seen in public again.”
Moira grimaced and stood. By the time her mother was finished with her, she wasn’t certain she would ever want to go out in public again.
Chapter 9
Gideon nodded to various acquaintances as he strolled along the grand walk of Vauxhall. This evening he was sharing a supper box with Jordan Trent and a widow whose name escaped him. Gideon felt out of place in their company and decided to take a walk, leaving Jordan and his current ladylove alone. They wouldn’t even know he was gone and would probably disappear down one of the dark walks before he returned. Lydell was to have joined them, but Lydell was no longer on speaking terms with Gideon, as though it was Gideon’s fault Lady Moira didn’t want to live in Bath.
As though summoned by his thoughts, Lady Moira appeared, walking in his direction, along with her brother and sister-in-law. Now all he needed was for Mr. Garson to make an appearance, then his role as matchmaker could be completed, and Gideon would be free to seek out his own entertainment. Perhaps he should take Jordan’s advice and get a ladylove to keep him company during his stay in London.
“Good evening, Lady Moira, Lady Hearne..” On the few occasions they’d had the opportunity to meet, Lady Moira had always looked quite fetching with her blue eyes, sprinkle of freckles, and shimmering red hair. However, tonight she wore a wide-brimmed hat that shaded most of her face from the torches throughout the gardens. All he could see was her chin, which appeared to have developed a rash. Not that he would remark on such a blemish.
“Good evening, Lord Ainsely,” Lady Hearne greeted. Lady Moira, however, remained silent and kept her head down. At least he assumed she was Lady Moira. The more he studied the young woman, the more he began to question himself. Usually, Lady Moira wasn’t so quiet and her breasts had seemed larger on previous occasions.
“My pardon. I mistook this young woman for Lady Moira.”
“Oh, it is Moira,” Hearne snorted.
Lady Hearne elbowed her husband in the ribs.
Gideon squinted to see Lady Moira more clearly, but she kept away from the light and seemed to draw into herself. Nothing like the lady with whom he’d made a previous acquaintance.
As Lady Moira was doing her best to ignore him, Gideon said to Hearne, “I haven’t seen your brothers in Town. Are they remaining in the country with their wives? Or will they be joining the Season soon?”
“They are unable to join us this year.”
Lady Hearne stiffened as her husband answered, and Gideon got the distinct impression his question had upset Hearne’s wife, especially when tears welled up in her eyes.
“They cannot go into Society,” Lady Hearne announced.
Hearne put an arm around his wife. “Excuse us for a moment.”
Gideon nodded and Hearne pulled his wife down a darkened path, leaving Gideon alone with Lady Moira. Her face was no longer shaded as she watched her brother and Lady Hearne walk away. The sadness in her eyes and downturn of her mouth pulled at him. This was clearly a family situation, and he felt like an intruder.
“Poor Alvina,” Lady Moira uttered.
“I hope it isn’t anything I said.”
A sad smile came to her lips, and Lady Moira looked up at him. It took all of Gideon’s effort to school his features once the light of the lamp shone on the young woman. Red blotches, hives, covered her face. She must be miserable, and why was she out of the house?
“Before we stopped to speak with you, Alvina just learned two of her friends are in a delicate condition. Coupled with our enceinte sisters-in-law, and my mother’s recent lectures on duty to the Hearne title, I am afraid it was too much for her.”
This was not the type of discussion he ever thought to have with an innocent young woman. “How long have she and Hearne been married?”
“Five years,” Lady Moira grimaced.
Gideon could well understand why the woman was upset, given she was married to the earl and was expected to produce the heir and a spare. If she had not done so already, no doubt she feared her ability to do so. Not that Gideon uttered a word. It was not his place, and it was certainly not a topic he was comfortable discussing with an innocent such as Lady Moira.
She continued as if his participation wasn’t necessary, however. “My brother doesn’t care. Well, he cares,” she shrugged. “But not in the way most gentlemen would. He has two younger brothers, who have children, so there is no concern of the title being left to a distant cousin of sorts.”
Unlike himself. Gideon was the last male of his line. Given the circumstances, he should find and settle on a wife sooner rather than later, and hopefully he wouldn’t encounter the same difficulties as Hearne.
Mr. Garson sidled up to them. “I say, good evening, Ainsely.”
“Garson,” Gideon nodded. At least he could change the topic of discussion.
The man grinned, waiting anxiously. “Any news?”
Gideon sighed. “Mr. Garson, may I introduce Lady Moira Kirkwood?”
The man straightened. Apparently he hadn’t been aware of his companion’s name.
Lady Moira turned toward Garson, eyebrow raised with a slight tilt of her lips. Garson took a step back, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words. He looked like a trout in need of air. As lovely as Lady Moira usually was, Gideon had to admit that this evening she was far from pretty. What had happened to cause her skin to erupt in such a manner?
“Um...uh...good evening, Lady Moira.”
She chuckled, and Gideon joined her. Clearly she knew how she looked and either didn’t care, or didn’t care what Garson thought. “Good evening, Mr. Garson.”
Garson pulled at this starched, tight, elegant neckcloth as though he needed air. It didn’t surprise Gideon in the least. He was amazed the man could breathe at all, let alone move his neck.
“I, well, I—“
“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we?” Lady Moira interrupted.
Gideon narrowed his eyes. Did she already know of the bet?
“Where is your estate?”
Apparently, she did.
The man flushed before he straightened like a proud peacock. “Oxfordshire. Nothing like Bath.”
Lady Moira’s eyes grew wide. “Oxfordshire? That is even worse than Bath.”
Garson pulled back. “Excuse me?”
“I do not like that area,” Lady Moira shrugged.
“I think it would be in your best interest not to be so picky,” Garson huffed.
Lady Moira raised an eyebrow. “I believe I can be as picky as I wish.”
“Well, when one considers…” He looked her up and down, nodded and gave a half-sympathetic smile.
Lady Moira drew in a breath and took a step forward. Gideon stepped between them.
“If you value your reputation and hide, I strongly encourage you to apologize to Lady Moira and take your leave.”
Garson looked up at him and swallowed. All the color drained from the man’s face. Gideon knew he could be an imposing figure when he wished to be. The man looked past him and nodded to Lady Moira. “My apologies.” Then he turned on his heel and hastened away.
Gideon watched him go and waited to hear the sound of sniffles, ready to offer what comfort he could, already pulling the handkerchief from his pocket. After all, most ladies, when insulted in such a way, would dissolve in tears. He knew it was a matter of time before Lady Moira succumbed.
Moira pressed a gloved hand to her mouth to smother the laughter. Goodness, she should keep using her mother’s concoctions just to keep undesirable gentlemen away.
No, that wouldn’t do. She could very well scare away a Scot, and she couldn’t have that.
To his credit, Ainsely showed no reaction to he
r appearance, other than his eyes widened the slightest bit. Had she not been watching him closely, she would have missed even that. He was a true gentleman.
Ainsely turned around and looked at her, a concerned expression on his face.
“Oh, there’s no reason to worry. I know I look dreadful.”
“Of course you don’t…”
More laughter bubbled up inside. “I do own a mirror, Lord Ainsely.”
A sheepish smile came to his lips.
“Though it is kind of you to pretend otherwise.”
Ainsely looked past her shoulder to where Nyle had disappeared with Alvina. Neither was in sight. “Would you care to stroll?” He offered her his arm.
As it was the grand walk, not a secluded one, and there were dozens of people within sight, it wouldn’t damage her reputation. Certainly no worse than taking a turn around a ballroom on his arm. Though in truth, she’d rather not be seen by more people than necessary. She’d not even wanted to come out tonight but her mother had insisted. She’d claimed that Moira had been gone from Society for too long and she didn’t wish to have others speculate as to her absence. Had her mother not been trying different concoctions to change Moira’s appearance, she’d not have been away to begin with.
He placed her hand on his sleeve and he led her off, away from the supper boxes.
“If you don’t mind, might we walk along a less crowded path instead?”
Ainsely stopped and studied her, a bit of alarm in his brown eyes.
“I promise not to compromise you.” She glanced about. “I simply wish not to be stared at by so many.”
Understanding lit in his eyes and Ainsly gave a slight nod before they turned down a walk. Though not entirely dark, there was more shelter from the lights and less people.
“May I ask you a question, Lady Moira?”
She looked up at him. “Of course.”
“What is wrong with Bath or Oxfordshire?”
Moira faced forward and bit her bottom lip. Should she tell him the truth? She glanced back up from beneath the brim of her hat. Something about Lord Ainsely instilled trust. “If you swear never to breathe a word of it.”
“I swear.” He placed a hand over his heart.
“Because, only my three dearest and closest friends and Alvina know, so if anyone finds out, I know it will be because you said something.”
“I promise not to reveal your secret.”
“Very well.” Moira took a deep breath and leaned closer. “I want to live in Scotland.”
“Why Scotland?” he whispered back.
“Because my mother swore never to set foot in that wretched country again.”
He stiffened and pulled away. “Why does she hate it so?”
Moira shrugged. “I really have no idea, but to hear her speak, one would think that as soon as one crosses the border, one has stepped into the most uncivilized place on earth. I think it must have something to do with my grandmother, my father’s mother, Fiona Moira MacGregor. I was named after her.”
“Have you even been to Scotland?” He pulled her over to a bench where they settled beneath the shadowing limbs. “No.” A grin pulled at her lips. “But I hear it is lovely.” Given the darkness of the night, Moira was certain that it was near midnight.
He smiled as if in agreement. “It can be that.”
Moira turned more fully toward him. “Have you been there?” Her pulse increased with the very idea he was familiar with the country that so fascinated her.
“Several times,” he laughed. “I can assure you it isn’t as horrible as your mother makes it out to be.”
Moira sighed, “That is a relief.”
“So, you simply wish to move there because of your mother.”
“If I live in Scotland, I never have to worry about her visiting me. That alone makes it pure heaven.”
“You may feel that way now, but after going weeks and months without seeing her, you may feel differently,” he offered seriously.
He didn’t know her mother. Perhaps he no longer had one of his own and couldn’t understand, or perhaps she was a kind soul like Alice’s mother or Patience’s late mama. “I will see her during the Season, I suppose, and perhaps a visit later in the year.”
“What if your husband doesn’t wish to return to England all that often?”
“What difference would that make? It isn’t as though he would see me all that often anyway.”
Ainsely stared down at her. “Usually husbands and wives share a home, even in the wilds of Scotland.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness of his tone. “They may share a house, but I doubt most husbands and wives spend an inordinate amount of time together. Why, I can recall the number of times my father dined with the family on two hands, not including holidays and weddings.” She looked around at the few couples who walked by. “From what I have gathered, husbands and wives actually see very little of one another, so why should my husband mind if I only visited England on a rare occasion?”
“Your brother seems to spend a good deal of time with Lady Hearne.”
“Of course he does,” Moira agreed. “They have an unusual situation.”
“Unusual?”
“Yes.” She beamed up at him. “They are in love.”
Chapter 10
“They are in love.” Her words echoed in Gideon’s mind and for the first time he realized that she did not expect the same for herself. Lady Moira might just be the first lady of his acquaintance who didn’t hope for such. While to most gentleman that would be a relief, it pained him that she’d not seek love for herself.
“If you did find a way to live in Scotland, is there a location that you’d prefer?” Did she even have any idea that he was Scottish and his family seat, Criefcliff Manor lay not far from Selkirk, Scotland?
No, she couldn’t, or Lady Moira wouldn’t have made such a confession.
Further, she had no reason to think he was anything but another English viscount as he’d been educated in England and had spent more time here than at his home and thus, did not have the slightest bit of accent to his speech.
She pursed her lips, very kissable lips and looked heavenward as if giving his question some consideration before she answered.
“I used to believe I wanted to be near Edinburgh.”
“You no longer do?”
“Near enough I suppose, to visit on a rare occasion, such as my visits to London, but after experiencing how Society can really be with all of the gossip, innuendos, and worse, betting books, I think I’d be quite content living away from everyone, in the country.”
It was all he could do not to grin.
“Of course, that would depend on my husband,” she quickly amended. “I’ve no wish to be stuck at a remote estate with a disagreeable person, even if we rarely saw one another.”
He’d like to assure Moira that he’d not be disagreeable at all, except she didn’t know that he had the very thing she sought.
“What of you, Lord Ainsely? Are you seeking anyone in particular this Season?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to answer honestly, but he did not. “I’m not as particular as to location, such as you.”
She laughed. “Of course not, as you will be in charge of where you and your wife reside. It is far easier for a gentleman in these circumstances than a lady.”
“Yes, I suppose you are correct.” Perhaps he should confess, then Lady Moira could give up her search for a Scot and then get on with compromising him, which he’d willingly allow her to do.
“Why are you looking at me in such a manner? At my mouth?”
He blinked, unaware that he’d been focused on her lips. “I apologize.”
“Please, do not do so but tell me what is on your mind.”
Life would never be dull with Lady Moira, that was a certainty. “If you must know, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you.”
Instead of being embarrassed, flustered or scandalized by his
confession, Lady Moira brightened and titled her chin for better access. “Then I believe you should do so.”
“I thought you promised not to compromise me,” he teased.
“You’ve no fear of that,” Lady Moira vowed, much to his disappointment. “However, I would very much like to experience a kiss, if you don’t mind.”
Gideon knew that he shouldn’t but as he had permission and she seemed to want it as much as he, he gave into the desire and bent, pressing his lips against hers. It was sweet and chaste and when Gideon pulled away, Lady Moira sighed.
It was the sigh that spoke the deepest and he wished to hear all manner of sighs from her lips, and kissed her again. This time, he pressed forward and she engaged him equally as he slipped a hand about her waist and drew her close. Lady Moira clutched at his shoulders and he tilted ever so slightly for better access as she parted for him. Gideon delved, tasting her sweetness, drinking deeply, wishing he could go on kissing her for the rest of the evening. To experience her passion.
As those thoughts formed, he pulled back before they both ended up very much compromised.
Lady Moria sighed again, except this time it was heavier, deeper than before as she looked up at him.
“It’s really a shame.”
“What is?” he asked, not certain what she was thinking.
“That you aren’t Scottish.”
“I should return you to your brother,” he said, though Moira would have liked nothing better than to remain exactly where they were and continue kissing.
Goodness, she never dreamed that it could be so pleasurable. Further, for the first time that evening, her face was not itching. She’d completely forgotten the discomfort with the touch of his lips.
“Yes, I suppose we should,” she finally admitted and allowed him to assist her to her feet.
Lord Ainsely offered his arm then led her the short distance to the entrance without another word.
Was he disappointed?
As they exited, they spotted Nyle and Alvina who were once again on the grand walk, but searching. Upon seeing her, Nyle strode forward.