The Lord's Highland Temptation

by Diane Gaston

  ‘Will there be anything else, sir?’ He managed to speak in his butler’s voice.

  Hargreave lifted the whisky bottle and checked the volume of the contents. ‘No, I think this is enough. You may leave.’

  Lucas executed his most servile bow. ‘Very good, sir.’ He refused to wish the man goodnight.

  Lucas left Hargreave’s room, filled with disgust. He disliked everything about Hargreave—the way he assumed Lucas would help with his dress, how he spoke only when trying to get information.

  Lucas knew many men just like him, convinced of their own superiority, oblivious to those whose job it was to serve them. Some such men had been his friends, fellow officers, other younger sons sent to the army to be cannon fodder. It mattered not one whit if those younger sons got killed in battle. It would not have mattered one whit if Lucas had been killed instead of his brother.

  He should have been.

  Why had Bradleigh been so mad for the glory of war? He’d be alive today if—

  Do not think of Bradleigh!

  He tried to shake the thoughts out of his head.

  But the vision of his brother’s shocked face as the cuirassier’s sword thrust through him flashed through his mind anyway.

  He yanked open the door to the servants’ stairs.

  ‘Whoop!’ Niven jumped back, clasping his heart. ‘You startled me!’

  Lucas frowned. ‘What the devil are you doing here, Niven?’

  ‘I’m waiting for you, of course,’ Niven responded amiably.

  ‘What for?’ Lucas started down the stairs.

  Niven followed him. ‘I have been dying of curiosity! Imagine my surprise to find you are our butler. Davina told me to pretend you really are our butler and to keep mum to William and his parents about it. I have not had one moment alone with her or Mairi to ask. How did this come about?’

  ‘I volunteered,’ Lucas said.

  ‘Why?’ Niven paused for a second. ‘By the way, it is capital to see you all recovered.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Lucas reached the lower level of the house. He wished he could go to his room with a bottle of whisky like Hargreave had.

  He had the keys to the wine cellar...

  No.

  He wouldn’t steal from Dunburn.

  He turned to Niven. ‘If you must, come with me to the butler’s room and I will explain what I can, but take care not to show yourself down here to Lord and Lady Crawfurd’s servants.’

  Lucas opened the door and peeked into the hallway. It was empty. He signalled Niven to follow him. He went directly to the butler’s room and dropped Hargreave’s clothes on the floor. He’d deal with them later.

  ‘You cannot be a butler,’ Niven said as soon as they were inside the room with the door closed. ‘It’s demeaning for a soldier like yourself!’

  ‘I am not a butler,’ Lucas clarified. ‘I am merely pretending to be one and you must not give any hint that there is anything remarkable about this. You must stay away from me.’

  Niven’s expression turned sulky. ‘I was hoping William and I could talk to you about the war. What battles you fought. What it was like. Papa already told everyone you were at Waterloo.’

  That was unfortunate. Dunburn should not have called attention to him like that.

  ‘Very well. Tomorrow seek me out. If I can, I will talk to you.’ Two boys wanting to talk about the war would probably not be remarked upon and he did owe Niven his worthless life. He dreaded it, though.

  He’d relive it again.

  Niven sat down in one of the chairs. ‘But tell me now why you volunteered to be our butler.’

  Lucas stood over him. ‘It was your doing, Niven. You invited the Crawfurds without consulting your parents. That was not well done of you.’

  Niven looked shocked at the rebuke, then turned defensive. ‘But everyone we know would have extended such an invitation in my place! How churlish would it be if they brought me here and we sent them on to stay in the village inn?’

  ‘You might have returned the day you said you would, instead of staying longer,’ Lucas countered. Niven opened his mouth to protest, but Lucas held up his hand. ‘You knew your family was short of servants and could use your help.’

  The youngster looked chagrined. ‘I confess I did not think of it. I don’t notice much about not having servants.’

  Did the boy not notice how hard his elder sister had been working? ‘Your parents feared your guests would notice the dearth of servants, especially the lack of a butler.’

  ‘Would they not merely assume Papa has not hired a new one?’ Niven asked.

  Lucas gave the boy a direct look. ‘Niven. The Crawfurds would guess that your family was having financial difficulties. If word of that got around, it might make matters very hard for your father and mother.’

  Niven lowered his gaze. ‘I did not think of it that way.’

  ‘Your parents were greatly distressed and so I volunteered to pretend to be your butler. To repay you all for possibly saving my life. I might have died had it not been for you and Davina finding me.’

  The reminder of Niven’s better choices seemed to raise his spirits. ‘But how is it you know how to be a butler?’

  ‘I have been a member of a household. I have seen what a butler does,’ he prevaricated and quickly changed the subject. ‘Did you tell your friend William that you rescued someone?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Niven replied. ‘It was the most exciting thing to have happened here in a long time.’

  ‘Does he know it was me?’ If so, all their efforts would be for naught.

  ‘No. Davina told me not to say it was you.’ Niven lifted his chin. ‘I told William that the man we rescued left already.’

  ‘Well done,’ Lucas told him. ‘No one must know there is anything strange about me being your butler.’

  Niven straightened. ‘I give you my word I will say nothing and I always honour my word.’

  Lucas softened towards the youth. ‘I do not doubt you.’

  Niven rose. ‘I’d best be off to bed, then.’ He walked with as much dignity as a boy his age could muster after receiving a deserved dressing-down. He stopped at the door. ‘Goodnight, Lucas.’

  Lucas smiled at the boy. ‘Goodnight, Niven.’

  After Niven was likely out of the hall, Lucas picked up Hargreave’s clothing and took it to the footmen’s room. With luck, one of the maids would launder the shirt, neckcloth and stockings. He began brushing off the coat, waistcoat and trousers.

  Even touching the clothing was distasteful. To perform such intimate care for a man like Hargreave was abhorrent. One thing was for certain—Lucas would never again take the services of a personal servant for granted.

  * * *

  The next morning, Mairi rose early as she had needed to do every other morning to keep the household afloat, and, as usual, Nellie came to her room first to help her dress. The poor woman was so fatigued after staying up late to attend her mother that Mairi said she would help Davina get dressed. She sent Nellie back to her bed to rest until her mother awoke.

  It was still a little too early to wake Davina, so Mairi went downstairs to see if Mrs Cross needed any help.

  She found Mrs Cross in the drawing room, helping the maids tidy the place.

  ‘Good morning,’ Mairi said, more cheerfully than she felt.

  The maids and Mrs Cross stopped working. They all curtsied to her.

  ‘How are you faring?’ Mairi asked.

  Mrs Cross smiled, an unusual expression for her these days. ‘We are doing fair, Miss Mairi. Better than you would expect.’

  ‘That is so?’ She was used to Mrs Cross looking tense and harried. ‘I am glad to hear it.’

  Mrs Cross leaned forward a little and spoke confidentially. ‘To own the truth, Mr Lucas has stepped in like a champion.’

/>   Betsy piped up, ‘Aye, he has, miss.’

  Agnes nodded.

  Nellie had told her much the same thing. ‘Indeed? What has he done?’

  Mrs Cross shrugged. ‘It is hard to say. He just seems to know who should do what and when.’

  Agnes giggled. ‘I wouldnae say no tae him.’

  Mrs Cross frowned and clapped her hands. ‘Now, now, we’ll have none of that.’

  Agnes and Betsy, still stifling smiles, went back to wiping the tables with their cloths.

  ‘Well, I am glad matters are more to your liking,’ she managed to say.

  Agnes mumbled, ‘The butler is more to my liking.’

  Betsy snickered.

  ‘Girls!’ Mrs Cross admonished.

  Agnes and Betsy’s good humour irritated Mairi, although she had no idea why. She ought to have been glad they were happy.

  ‘Do you need any help, Mrs Cross?’ she asked.

  ‘No, miss. Not today,’ the housekeeper said. ‘We have it all in hand.’

  Mairi’s brows rose in astonishment. ‘Well. That is very good.’

  She bid them all good day and walked out of the room. She might as well see if Davina was awake.

  She passed through the hall where Erwin was on duty. He nodded to her.

  ‘Is all well, Erwin?’ she asked.

  ‘It is, miss,’ he said, sounding amazed. ‘I don’t think we have to worry.’

  Because of Lucas, no doubt.

  She climbed the stairs to the first floor, where all the bedchambers were. As she neared the landing, Mr Hargreave was on his way down. He stood in her way so she had to stop.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Wallace.’ He gave a little bow and smiled.

  ‘Good morning.’ She wanted to be on her way, but he blocked her path.

  ‘I hope you are well this morning.’

  ‘I am, sir.’ She ought to say something polite. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Quite well. And you? How did you sleep, Miss Wallace?’ His smile widened and his gaze swept over her in an intense manner.

  It sent a shiver down her spine and her heart raced like it always did around unfamiliar men. Or at least around ones who looked at her in that intense way. The memory of her assault pressed against her brain, trying to break through.

  She must not let the memories come. With them came the panic.

  She took a breath and forced her voice to be calm and polite. ‘Quite well,’ she responded, mimicking his words. ‘Breakfast is in the morning room. Erwin, who is attending the hall, will direct you.’

  She took a step forward, but he hesitated a moment before stepping aside.

  He’d engaged her in conversation the night before, but all she could remember about it was wanting to get away from him. She couldn’t, really. He was their guest.

  Before she reached Davina’s bedchamber, she glanced down the hallway containing the guest rooms and saw Lucas emerge from Mr Hargreave’s room.

  ‘Lucas,’ she called.

  He turned and waited for her to reach him. ‘Miss Wallace. May I serve you in some way?’ he asked in that bland tone that servants so often used.

  ‘Lucas, you do not have to talk like a butler with me.’ Why did she not feel discomfort with him? He was more of a stranger than Mr Hargreave, whose family knew her family.

  Lucas kept his bland expression. ‘One never knows who might hear,’ he said quietly.

  She looked over her shoulder and glimpsed Mr Hargreave on the top step watching them. That uncomfortable feeling returned.

  She tried to ignore it.

  ‘Is everything going well?’ she asked Lucas instead, making certain she still spoke quietly. ‘Is there anything I might do?’

  At least his eyes lost that distant expression. They softened as he gazed at her. ‘Enjoy yourself. You may be at ease.’

  She blew out an anxious breath. ‘I feel so useless!’

  ‘Overworked, more likely,’ he said, adding softly, ‘We will pull this off, I promise. So, truly, be at ease.’ He glanced back at the stairs. ‘But I should leave you, unless there is a service I might perform.’

  ‘Is he gone?’ she whispered.

  He nodded.

  ‘You were coming from his room.’ She could not picture Lucas acting as valet to this man. ‘How is it to serve him?’

  His brows knitted. ‘He asked several questions—about the family.’

  ‘He did?’ Why would he do that?

  ‘I did not answer them,’ he assured her.

  ‘I should hope not!’ She knew that without asking, though.

  His voice turned soft. ‘I will not betray you.’

  Their gazes caught. Warmth spread through her like warm honey. Such a different reaction from how she’d felt towards Hargreave a moment ago. Mairi rarely felt safe around a man, but she felt safe with Lucas.

  Maybe he had cast a spell on all of them. Her whole family and all the servants had put their faith in him.

  He stepped back and smiled. ‘Tend to your guests, Miss Wallace. That is all you need do.’ He bowed and turned away to walk towards the servants’ stairs.

  She watched him until he disappeared, a jumble of feelings inside her.

  She hurried on to Davina’s room.

  To her surprise, Davina had already risen and, like Mairi, had dressed herself as far as she was able.

  ‘Oh, Mairi.’ Her younger sister looked distressed. ‘I thought Nellie would have been here by now.’

  ‘I told her I would help you,’ Mairi said. ‘She is resting.’

  ‘Resting?’ Davina looked at her reflection in her mirror. ‘How can she be resting? I need her to fix my hair. She is so good at it.’

  ‘Mama kept her up late and, because of us, she had to rise early,’ Mairi explained. ‘It is difficult for her at her age. I told her to rest a wee bit before Mama needs her.’

  Davina wailed. ‘Not today, Mairi. I want to look my best.’

  ‘Whatever for?’ Mairi lost her patience. Davina was rarely thoughtless of others, especially of their beloved servants. ‘It is only the Crawfurds. We’ve known them for ever.’

  ‘There is also Mr Hargreave!’ Davina responded, her tone somewhat dreamy.

  ‘Mr Hargreave?’ Mairi’s guard flew up.

  ‘Yes.’ Davina crossed her hands over her chest. ‘I like him.’

  Mairi’s heart beat too fast. ‘He is too old for you!’ Or more accurately, Davina was too young. Much too young.

  Davina rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, Mairi. He cannot even be thirty years yet and you know daughters like us often marry men who are as old as Papa.’

  Mairi could not bear to think of that very real possibility. ‘But not when they are fourteen!’

  ‘Some girls marry at sixteen, though,’ Davina protested.

  But not Davina, Mairi vowed. It was much too young to handle what could happen between a man and woman. Mairi knew too well. ‘Mama and Papa would not want you to marry at sixteen. Besides, you are only fourteen. You must not flirt with Mr Hargreave. You must behave like a lady.’

  Davina plopped down in the chair at her dressing table. ‘Oh, I will. I value my reputation, you know, but I do wish I were older.’

  ‘You will be older in no time at all.’ Mairi began brushing out Davina’s auburn hair. Her sister was already a beauty and sometimes looked older than her years. ‘And do not fear. I will arrange your hair attractively. It is not that difficult. Your hair is so lovely.’

  Too lovely perhaps, paired with Davina’s bright green eyes.

  Just in case, she would watch over Davina in Mr Hargreave’s presence.

  * * *

  Mr Hargreave remained at the breakfast table when Mairi and Davina entered the room. Niven and William Crawfurd were also present. When Mr Hargreave stood, Niven and Willi
am scrambled to stand as well.

  ‘Good morning, ladies,’ Mr Hargreave said smoothly.

  Before Robert, who was serving the breakfast, could do so, Hargreave pulled out a chair for Mairi. William, following his example, did the same for Davina. When Davina turned to thank him, colour rose in his face. Mairi did not miss it, even though Niven seemed oblivious. William was smitten with their younger sister.

  Hargreave slid a knowing glance at Mairi. ‘The boy has good taste,’ he whispered to her.

  That this man acknowledged her sister’s beauty, even in this indirect way, only raised her hackles even more.

  Robert appeared at her side, offering a piece of ham. She nodded and he put it on her plate. He offered some to Davina next. Both Niven and William asked for more. Robert served cooked eggs and toasted bread as well.

  ‘Shall I pour you some tea, Miss Wallace?’ Mr Hargreave asked.

  She wanted nothing to do with him, but was obligated to be nice out of politeness. ‘Thank you.’

  He poured and she pulled the cup closer to her plate.

  ‘What plans do you ladies have for this fine day?’ Hargreave asked amiably.

  Davina looked up, but did not speak.

  ‘We are at the disposal of our guests,’ Mairi said quickly.

  William cleared his throat. ‘Niven and I are going riding after breakfast.’ He turned to Davina. ‘Miss Davina, perhaps you would like to join us?’

  Davina glanced at Niven, who said happily enough, ‘Yes, Davina. Capital idea. Come with us.’

  Davina beamed with pleasure. ‘I’d be delighted!’

  ‘Well, let us eat quickly,’ Niven said.

  They busily talked about what horses each should ride and where they should go.

  ‘I should like to see the standing stones,’ William said. ‘The ones where you found the sick soldier.’

  ‘The sick soldier?’ Mr Hargreave’s brows rose.

  Davina and Niven looked distressed. As did Robert.