Page 44 of Beguiled
The soft, female voice stopped his thoughts short. He turned to find its owner, his mind supplying a name before he even saw her.
Elizabeth. Standing in the shadows, a slight, apologetic figure.
“Lady Kinnell. How nice to see you—” he began. She stepped forward to meet him, her gaze darting from side to side even as she did so, checking, checking.
She looked fresh and rather lovely in a simple muslin gown with a broad tartan sash fastened at her shoulder by a silver-and-amethyst stag’s head brooch. Her expression was wary, though. Careful.
“I saw you earlier,” she confided all in a rush, “and I so wanted to speak with you that I came running up here after you! I’m with Alasdair, you see, and he doesn’t like me talking to—” Abruptly, she broke off, flushing, plainly not sure how to finish that sentence.
David closed the gap between them, moving closer to her. “I need to speak with you too,” he said without preamble. “I have something important to talk to you about. Your father—”
But her gaze was already off him and looking over his shoulder.
“Lord Murdo?” she whispered, sounding faintly horrified.
David turned to see Murdo stepping closer. A stiff, social smile had replaced the rare, genuine one he’d worn a few moments ago.
“How nice to see you, Miss Chalmers,” he said in his deep, anglified voice, bowing over her hand. “Or rather, Lady Kinnell. Mr. Lauriston told me of your marriage.” He paused, then added, “Congratulations.”
She flinched, a barely perceptible twitch, but it was there for an instant before she pasted on a social mask. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
She glanced at David again, and he saw a hint of despair there, one that seemed to intensify a moment later for reasons he didn’t understand, till a clipped voice behind him said, “Elizabeth, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
David and Murdo turned together to face the newcomer, a tall, lean man with a harshly handsome face and prematurely grey hair. David didn’t need to be introduced to realise that this was Elizabeth’s husband. The familiarity of the man’s words and the way Elizabeth looked suddenly guilty told him everything he needed to know.
Kinnell stared down at Elizabeth, his expression unreadable, and she looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact.
“Good evening, Kinnell.” Murdo’s greeting drew the man’s attention away from Elizabeth. “I wasn’t aware you were in town. Up for the celebrations, are you?”
Kinnell looked coolly surprised to be thus addressed, and David wondered if the two men were generally on speaking terms. “Yes,” he said. “As are you, I presume?”
“Indeed. This is my charge for the evening, Mr. Lauriston. Mr. Lauriston, Sir Alasdair Kinnell.”
David bowed stiffly, and Kinnell favoured him with a nod. “Your charge?”
“Mr. Lauriston made a favourable impression on the King earlier this week. He was personally invited to this evening’s ball. I was given the job of making sure Mr. Lauriston appeared.” Murdo chuckled. “He is not a man for idle entertainments, are you, Lauriston?”
David wondered what Murdo was about even as he murmured his agreement. “Not generally, no.”
“So you see,” Murdo interrupted, “when we passed your lady wife, whom I had the great pleasure of meeting two years ago—it was two years, was it not, Lady Kinnell?”—Elizabeth cleared her throat and said she believed it was—“I asked if she would do my friend here the very great honour of dancing with him, as I’m sure no one would be better placed to show him that dancing is not as terrifying as he believes.”
David knew then that Murdo understood he needed to talk to Elizabeth and that he needed to get her away from her husband to do that.
And of course, Murdo knew Kinnell of old. Knew he was a bully and brute.
Kinnell frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Murdo interjected before he could say a word. “I know, it is the height of rudeness to opportune a married lady so shamelessly in the corridor, but I could not help myself. I believe I have had my head turned by the magnificence of the evening.” He gave a laugh and slapped Kinnell on the shoulder, then turned to Elizabeth. “I am sorry, my lady, for putting you on the spot. It was ungentlemanly. I have a feeling you were about to refuse me but could not think of a polite way to do it.”
Elizabeth looked helplessly at her husband. He didn’t so much as glance at her but gave a tight sort of smile. “I am sure Elizabeth would not think of refusing. She would be delighted to dance with your charge, wouldn’t you, my dear?”
Elizabeth paused, watching him, wary. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Of course. Delighted.”
“Good!” Murdo said. “Escort Lady Kinnell to the ballroom, then, Lauriston. Off you go.” He turned his shoulder on David and Elizabeth and moved closer to Kinnell, a sheepdog isolating a ram. “My thanks,” David heard him murmur in Kinnell’s ear. “He’s a nice enough fellow, to be sure, but rather dull. Now, I have something I particularly wanted to ask you about, Kinnell. An investment opportunity…”
Chapter Thirteen
David led Elizabeth back to the principal ballroom, where the music was more genteel and the dancing less boisterous. There was already a country dance in full flow, which gave them a respectable reason for strolling around the ballroom instead of joining in.
Elizabeth checked over her shoulder more than once before she glanced at David and said softly, “I am not sure what to make of Lord Murdo.”