Читать книгу Highland Rogue - Deborah Hale, Deborah Hale - Страница 8

“Come now, Tessa, be sensible, dearest,” Claire begged her sister. “You can’t mean to jilt poor Spencer over a man you barely know.”

A few days after the Fortescues’ ball, they sat in the morning room of Lydiard House. Claire occupied an armchair opposite a matching settee that held Tessa and her mother. A tea tray rested on the low table between them.

This was the first time in the three years since her father’s death that Claire had paid a call on Lydiard House.

“I wish you wouldn’t use an awful word like jilt!” Tessa thrust out her full lower lip in a pretty pout. “It sounds perfectly heartless!”

Lady Lydiard set down her cup of tea, for once in complete agreement with her stepdaughter. “It is a rather heartless thing to do, dear, no matter what you call it. Especially considering how long poor Spencer has waited for you.”

“That’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” Tessa’s splendid eyes flashed with more green than blue, a sure sign of rough sailing for anyone foolish enough to oppose her. “If Spencer had been truly eager to marry me, I cannot believe he would have stood for so many delays.”

After the forbearance he’d shown her sister, Claire would not tolerate hearing Spencer Stanton abused. Not even by his own fiancée.

“Delays that were your idea, may I remind you! Spencer has only wanted to give you time to be certain of your feelings. Would you rather he’d blustered and bullied you to get his own way, like some men?”

“Of course not.” Tessa sighed. “Spencer’s been perfectly sensible and selfless, as always, and I feel ghastly about—” she hesitated over the word, then steeled herself and spat it out “—jilting the dear fellow. But I cannot go through with the wedding when I’m head over heels in love with another man, now, can I?”

It made a sort of topsy-turvy sense, though not a kind Claire could have much sympathy with. If she had given her word, and the gentleman in question had done nothing to make her change her mind, she could not have brought herself to break her promise.

“If you ask me, head over heels does not sound like a very balanced frame of mind in which to make such an important decision.” Claire reached across the low tea table to rest her hand on top of her sister’s. “For Spencer’s sake and especially for your own, please do not act in haste. How much do you really know about Ewan Geddes, after all?”

His name came far too readily to her tongue, curse him! It gave her a ridiculous little rush of pleasure to wrap her lips around it. And to hear it spoken by her own voice…as if that granted her some secret sense of ownership.

Worse yet, the sound of it conjured up a vivid image of the man, and a disturbingly intense memory of how it had felt to whirl around the dance floor in his arms, his voice beguiling her more deeply with every word. It was bad enough she hadn’t been able to get him out of her thoughts last night. If he was going to plague her during the day, as well, how would she get anything done?

“Claire’s right, dear,” Lady Lydiard chimed in, speaking those words for the first time her stepdaughter could recall. “I disapproved of this man when I believed he was simply a stranger from America. But when Claire informed me he was one of our servants…Such an alliance would be out of the question, even if you weren’t already engaged! Really, you might have told me.”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d fuss. And why should it be out of the question, Mama? You always say what marvelous servants we have.”

Lady Lydiard’s patrician countenance took on a look of horror, like a fastidious clergyman listening to heresy. “Marvelous in their proper places, dear.”

“Proper places—tush!” Tessa sprang from her spot on the settee and began to pace the morning room, her delicate hands gesturing wildly as she spoke. “You know I have no patience with that kind of thinking. People are people.”

Where had Tessa picked up her egalitarian notions? Claire wondered. From reading Mrs. Trollope’s novels at an impressionable age? From the handsome but radical-minded tutor their father had dismissed after discovering just how revolutionary some of the young man’s views were? Or was it a natural expression of the rebellious streak her younger sister had displayed as far back as their nursery days?

“Besides…” Tessa made a dramatic sweeping gesture that almost spelled disaster for an Oriental vase perched too close to the edge of the mantelpiece. “Ewan Geddes is nobody’s servant anymore. He is a perfectly respectable man of business in a place called Pittsburgh. And quite prosperous, I dare say. He was able to afford a holiday in London, after all, and his clothes are very well tailored.”

The exchange between her sister and stepmother had given Claire a chance to rally her composure. Now Tessa’s words reminded her of something else.

“I’ve made inquiries about Mr. Geddes, as it happens.”

Tessa’s mouth fell open. “What gives you the right to pry—”

Lady Lydiard interrupted her daughter. “Do be quiet, dear, and listen to what your sister has to say. What did you find out, Claire?”

For the first time in her life, Claire wavered a little under her sister’s indignant glare. It was for Tessa’s good, she reminded herself, and Brancasters’. Yet, somehow, her own foolish partiality for the man tainted her sisterly concern.

“He’s staying at the Carleton, for one thing. A rather expensive hotel for a man who lists his occupation as ‘marine engineer,’ wouldn’t you say?”

Her sister did not seem to draw the same conclusions as Claire had. Perhaps because Tessa had not been forced to guard herself against fortune hunters for so many years.

“How dare you set spies on Mr. Geddes, just because he and I are friends?”

“I’d call it a good deal more than friends,” Claire snapped back, “if you are thinking of jilting your fiancé for the man. I’ve also discovered that he is employed by the firm Liberty Marine Works.”

The significance of her sister’s words seemed lost on Tessa. She lifted her gracefully arched brows in an unspoken question.

“Liberty Marine Works is a shipbuilding firm.” A sinking sensation had gripped Claire when she’d first heard this incriminating piece of information from Mr. Hutt. Now it returned. “Like Brancasters.”

Leaning on one arm of the settee, Tessa brought her face close to Claire’s. “Then you and Ewan should have plenty to talk about at dinner parties, after he and I are married.”

“Teresa Veronica Talbot!” her mother thundered. “Don’t be impertinent!”

“Impertinent?” Tessa pointed an accusing finger at Claire. “Why don’t you lecture her about the impertinence of spying on a man who’s committed no crime other than once having been in our employ?”

Claire rose from the chair, gathering her self-control around her as a buffer against her sister’s passionate outrage.

She was not proud of what she’d done, but she’d had no choice. Now her sister must face the unpleasant truth about Ewan Geddes, just as she had.

“Don’t you see, dearest? A man who lives beyond his means that way can’t be up to any good. Has it never occurred to you that he may be after your fortune?”

“What fortune would that be?” Tessa crossed her arms over her shapely bosom. “A minor interest in Brancasters and part ownership of Strathandrew?”

Claire bit her tongue to keep from reminding her sister that the Scottish estate had cost more in upkeep over the years than it was worth—an expense she alone had borne.

Perhaps Tessa sensed what her sister was thinking, for her lip curled in an unattractive sneer. “I consider myself fortunate not to have been burdened with great wealth. I am not forced to suspect that any gentleman who admires me has mercenary motives.”

“Well, I have.” Claire forced herself to speak calmly as she struggled to hide the hurt her sister’s words had inflicted. “So I must beg you to trust my judgment. Do you suppose there haven’t been times when I was tempted to trust the flattery of an attractive man? When I wanted to believe he would love me just as well if I hadn’t a farthing?”

The defiant glitter in Tessa’s eyes dimmed, and her pretty features crumpled like a child’s. “I’m sorry, darling!”

She dashed into Claire’s arms. “I didn’t mean to be hateful, truly! I just can’t understand why you’re doing this to me.”

Claire’s eyes prickled with tears she had forgotten how to shed. She couldn’t bear to push the matter so hard it caused an irreparable breach between her and Tessa.

She returned her sister’s embrace, then drew back, taking Tessa’s hands in hers. “I’m not doing this to you, dearest. I’m doing it for you. And for Brancasters. I truly believe Ewan Geddes means trouble for all of us.”

“Brancasters!” Tessa spat the word out like some vile oath as she wrenched her fingers out of Claire’s grasp. “I should have known. You’re more concerned with protecting your grandfather’s precious company than with my happiness.”

“Now, Tessa, you know that’s not true.”

Lady Lydiard could hold her tongue no longer. “Apologize to Claire, at once, Tessa.” She rose from the settee. “Your sister would never have involved herself in this unsavory business if I had not appealed to her for help. If you must be angry with someone, let it be me.”

Claire wasn’t certain which of them her stepmother’s words surprised more—her, Tessa, or Lady Lydiard herself.

Surprised or not, Tessa made no effort to apologize. “This is worse than I thought, if both of you are allied against me. I don’t care, though. I will not let you spoil my chance of happiness!”

With that, she spun away and ran out of the morning room, slamming the door behind her.

Claire and Lady Lydiard stood frozen for a moment, listening to the muted pounding of footsteps up the stairs. Then her ladyship wilted down onto the settee again.

“This is worse than I thought.” She echoed her daughter’s words. “Tessa has always been such a willful child. And I fear I’ve only made it worse by indulging her so often. What if she runs away to Scotland and marries the fellow, just to spite us?”

Runs away to Scotland. Those words stirred an idea in Claire’s mind.

She sank back onto her chair and took a drink of her tea, only to find it had gone cold. “I’m afraid that’s just what might happen if we push her too far. We need to let her feelings cool to the point where she can be reasoned with.”

“What are you suggesting?” In spite of the early hour, Lady Lydiard appeared in need of a stronger drink than tea. “That we should look the other way while this fellow continues to pursue my daughter all over London in such a scandalous fashion?”

“Not quite.” Suddenly Claire’s plan took shape with brilliant clarity. For only the second time in her cautious life, she tasted the heady draft of reckless zeal. “We need to keep them apart long enough for Tessa to come to her senses. In the meantime, we must force Ewan Geddes to tip his hand, so she can see him for the fortune-hunting troublemaker he is.”

“And how are we to accomplish that?”

A tiny secretive smile tugged at a corner of Claire’s mouth. The more details she added to her plan, the better she liked it.

“We must present Mr. Geddes with an even more tempting target for his schemes.”

Her ladyship’s eyes widened. “You?”

Claire nodded. Then she remembered another bold plan of hers that had involved Ewan Geddes, and how disastrously it had gone awry.

“This is a pleasant surprise, I must say.” Two evenings later, Ewan looked around the table at the three Talbot ladies, his eyes coming to rest upon Tessa, seated opposite him.

Ten years ago, if anyone had told him the day would come when he’d be sitting down to dine at Lydiard House, he wouldn’t have believed them. It felt as though he was in sight of the crest of a tall peak he’d been scaling for as long as he could remember.

“I was afraid ye ladies might not take kindly to my renewing Miss Tessa’s acquaintance after all these years.”

Lady Lydiard didn’t take kindly to it. Ewan could feel her critical gaze trained upon him, as if she was just waiting for him to fumble his forks or drink the contents of his finger bowl.

He would not be sorry to disappoint her.

From the foot of the table, Claire Talbot spoke up. “I won’t attempt to deceive you, Mr. Geddes. Tessa’s mother and I are concerned about the…haste with which she is making important decisions concerning her future.”

“Claire…” murmured her sister, a distinct note of warning in her voice.

Ewan caught Tessa’s eye, then gave a subtle shake of his head. A great family row wasn’t likely to win him sympathy from her mother and sister. “It’s fine. Honestly. I have no objection to hearing the truth.”

They ate their soup in awkward silence for a while before Claire Talbot spoke again.

“As you may recall from our younger years, my sister has a strong will and knows her own mind. Since her mother and I both love her very much, we do not wish to cause an unfortunate breach in our family, as can sometimes occur under these circumstances.”

“A wise and compassionate course, Miss Talbot.” Ewan found himself warming to Claire in spite of himself.

It couldn’t have been easy for a woman of her spirit to back down from the defiant challenge she’d flung at him on the night of the Fortescues’ ball. But she recognized that opposing him too forcefully might push her sister straight into his arms. And she cared too much about Tessa to risk estranging her.

“A practical course, sir.” Miss Talbot seemed pleased by his praise. “My years in the world of commerce have taught me to be practical, even when it comes to matters of the heart.”

A serving maid stepped forward to collect their soup bowls. Ewan murmured a word of thanks when she took his. Was it his imagination, or did she look a bit familiar? Could she be one of the wee lasses from Strathandrew, brought south to serve in the family’s London home?

Claire Talbot spoke again, distracting Ewan from his thoughts. “The reason we invited you here this evening was so we might begin to get better acquainted with you. Of course, we remember you from our summers in Strathandrew, but that was quite some time ago. Tell me, do you get much opportunity to hunt and fish over in America?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” Ewan admitted, as the serving maid placed the fish course before him—poached Highland salmon.

A gillie on the estate must have caught it and sent it south by train, packed in ice.

“My work has kept me pretty busy, ye know. It’s only in the past year or two that I’ve been able to take my nose from the grindstone.”

He took a bite of the salmon. The soft pink flesh melted on his tongue with a familiar salty-sweet flavor so delicious Ewan closed his eyes, the better to savor it. If Lady Lydiard hadn’t been watching him so closely, he might have let out a faint groan of pleasure.

“I know what you mean,” said Claire. “Since taking over at Brancasters, I have not had much opportunity for leisure, myself. Why, just this morning, I realized that 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.