Highland Rogue. Deborah Hale
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it has been fully three years since I last spent any time at Strathandrew. It used to be the highlight of the year, when Tessa and I were children.”
Her gaze took on a far-off look, and Ewan thought he detected a hint of wistful softness in her eyes.
He remembered the Talbots’ summer visits, too. The flurry of anticipation as the great house was opened up and cleaned from cellar to attic. The larder stocked with all sorts of delicacies brought from the south. Fishing tackle sorted and line mended. Guns hauled out and cleaned in preparation for lots of hunting parties.
Then, on the day the Talbots’ yacht moored in the firth, he would steal down to watch the family and their guests disembark. And to take his first, private look at Tessa, to see how much taller she’d grown. How her figure was beginning to fill out in just the right places. If she was wearing her hair in a new style. Whether she was still as bonny as he’d remembered her.
Now he had only to glance across the table…which he did.
The lass was as much a feast for his eyes as the salmon was for his palate—so dainty, soft and golden. She looked almost as though time had stood still for her during the years they’d been apart. For some reason he couldn’t quite puzzle out, that notion troubled him vaguely.
Again Claire Talbot’s voice broke in on his thoughts. “I’ve just had a grand idea. Why don’t we all go up to Strathandrew for a few weeks? Mr. Geddes can come as our guest. It will give us an opportunity to get better acquainted, away from the formality of London. What do you think?”
She glanced around the table at the others, her eyes finally coming to rest upon Ewan.
Tessa slammed down her fork with a force that threatened the delicate china of her plate. “If you must know, I think you’re far more interested in spiriting Ewan and me away from all the tattling tongues in London than you are about getting reacquainted.”
Before Claire could reply to her sister’s charge, Lady Lydiard spoke. “Please excuse my daughter’s ill manners, Mr. Geddes. I can’t think where she’s picked them up.”
Her ladyship’s cool stare told Ewan she need look no further than him.
To Tessa she added, “I believe you owe Claire an apology. Thank heaven there is someone in the family who considers propriety.”
“No apologies necessary,” said Claire, though her face had gone a bit pale during her sister’s rebuke. “Tessa is correct, in part, about my motive for suggesting a holiday in Scotland. I fail to see what harm it will do to exercise a little discretion. There is bound to be a good deal of gossip, in any case, dearest, if you break your engagement. Why add to it?”
“When I break my engagement.”
The lass had spirit, that was certain. Ewan knew he should be grateful that she wasn’t ashamed of her feelings for him, and that she was willing to defy her family on his account, if necessary. All the same, her sharp tone and quarrelsome air set his teeth on edge.
Beneath the table, he gave her foot a gentle nudge. “Well, I think a holiday at good old Strathandrew is a capital idea, Miss Talbot. I was hoping to make a wee visit home, anyway. It’ll be almost like old times, eh?”
Tessa’s features softened. Perhaps she was picturing the two of them riding through the hills, sharing a picnic lunch of Rosie McMurdo’s fine cooking, or walking together by the burn in the late summer gloaming. Those thoughts certainly brought a smile to Ewan’s lips.
Of course, that wouldn’t be like old times, he reminded himself. During the summers of their youth, the thought of wooing Lord Lydiard’s daughter was one he’d reserved for his hopeless dreams. Being able to court her in the familiar splendor of the Highlands, away from prying eyes and tattling tongues, would be like a dream come true.
A dream he’d cherished so long and so desperately, he doubted he could let go of it now, even if he’d wanted to.
Chapter Four
The faintly bilious sensation in the pit of Claire’s stomach had nothing to do with the gentle rocking of the yacht. Unlike her sister and stepmother, she seldom suffered a moment’s seasickness, even in the roughest weather. During their annual voyages to Strathandrew, she had taken keen enjoyment in prowling the decks, questioning the crew about sails and rigging, her senses quickened by the rhythm of the waves and the tang of the sea breeze as it rippled through her hair.
Several years since their last such voyage, Claire now stood on the deck of the Marlet, awaiting Ewan Geddes’s arrival. She reached up to make certain her becoming new hat was firmly secured atop her flattering new coiffure.
Lady Lydiard’s hairdresser had assured her the lower, looser style made her look quite five years younger. Claire had tried to ignore the shallow compliment, but she had not been able to subdue a ridiculous flicker of pleasure…any more than she could subdue the nervous, expectant flutter in her stomach.
Perhaps it was the corset.
Claire suspected the blame for a vast percentage of feminine maladies lay with this unnatural binding of women’s bodies. It was a measure of her regard for Tessa that she had submitted to its tyranny.
Rubbish! protested a voice from deep in her memory—the voice of her late father. You’d never have a hope of winning that bounder away from your sister with your looks. And no amount of corsets, cunning hats or fussy hairstyles will alter that!
Claire’s insides clenched as if powerful hands had jerked the laces of her corset tighter still. Pulling herself to her full height, she thrust out her chin. When he’d been alive, she had never given her father the satisfaction of guessing how much his constant censure had stung. She was not about to let that change just because he was dead.
There was some truth in the notion, though, she admitted to herself as she opened her parasol against the cheerful glare of the sun. She did not expect to win Ewan Geddes with her looks, but with her money.
Once she took care to let him know how little fortune Tessa had in her own right, no doubt he would alter his course in favor of a more lucrative opportunity. Still, Claire did not wish to make him view the prospect as altogether odious.
What time had it gotten to be? She foraged in her reticule and brought out a large gold pocket watch that had once belonged to her grandfather. She consulted the heavy old timepiece, then searched the bustling quayside for a glimpse of Ewan Geddes.
There he was! A powerful wave of relief buffeted Claire.
He strode down the quay with a pair of baggage porters scurrying along in his wake. Then he paused for a moment, peering around at the diverse assemblage of vessels. Claire could tell the precise instant he spotted the Marlet, for he gave a visible start, then headed toward the yacht.
Claire’s insides pitched and swayed worse than ever. She had been a fool to go to such lengths to beautify herself for Ewan Geddes. No doubt he would see through her pitiful plan and laugh at her for even trying to win him away from Tessa. For an instant she considered going below decks and hiding out there with the excuse of some feigned indisposition.
Then she remembered everything at stake— Tessa’s happiness and Spencer’s, as well as the fortunes of the company her grandfather had entrusted to her. She mustn’t give up without a fight.
Resisting the urge to adjust her hat one last time, she approached the gangway as Ewan Geddes sprinted up it.
“Welcome aboard!” Claire smiled, surprised to discover how little effort it required. “I hope you did not have too much difficulty finding us?”
“None at all.” He doffed his hat and bowed over the hand she extended to him. “I apologize for being so late. I had a few pressing business matters to attend to. I hope I haven’t kept everyone waiting.”
“Quite the contrary.” Claire managed to withdraw her hand from his, with considerable reluctance. “I only arrived