Page 4 of Kilgannon #1

W HILE I WAITED FOR DINNER TO BE ANNOUNCED I searched the ballroom for Kilgannon.

I chatted with my aunt’s friends and our acquaintances and at last with the Duchess, who glowed with smug satisfaction as she guided me away from the others and to the outside doors.

“Why don’t you wander out to the porch, dear?

” she asked, flicking her fan over her smile. “The air will do you good.”

I smiled in return and walked outside. There he was, leaning against the railing and staring into the gardens, the soft light illuminating the long lines of his frame. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded at me when I halted in the doorway.

“Will ye join me, Miss Lowell? ’Tis a glorious night.”

“It is, Lord Kilgannon.”

He shook his head. “Not Lord Kilgannon, lass. Just Alex.” He turned to me and watched my reaction, his expression unreadable.

“Mary,” I said in the same tone, coming to stand next to him.

He smiled slowly and nodded. “Then Mary and Alex it is.”

Mary and Alex, I thought, Alex and Mary. “We are breaking all the rules, sir,” I said. “We should be using titles. ”

He nodded. “Aye, we’ll have to behave in front of them.”

“But not with each other?”

He watched me for a moment, then smiled. “Not with each other.”

I hoped the light was too dim for him to notice my blush and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You do not like to dance, sir?” I flinched at the similarity to Betty’s words.

He nodded again. “I do. But I dinna know the minuet nor do I have the desire to learn such a mincing little dance. It looks like everyone is tiptoeing.” I laughed and leaned against the railing, the stone cool under my hand.

I could think of nothing else to say. His finger traced the stonework pattern, but he was watching me.

“Mary, are ye engaged to Robert Campbell?”

I looked at him, startled. “You are very direct, sir.”

He nodded. “Aye, it saves much time. Are ye?”

“No.”

“Ah.” He stared into the gardens and I watched his profile.

“Why do you ask me that?”

He turned to me without expression. “The women said ye were.”

“And if I were?”

“I would take my attentions elsewhere.”

“I see.” It was my turn to glance into the gardens.

He frowned to himself. “That’s not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“I wouldna turn my attentions elsewhere. I’d have to have ye change yer mind.” He was grinning now.

“I see.” I stared at him for a moment, then returned his smile. “Have I any say in this?”

“Aye.” He was suddenly serious. “It will be as ye wish.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean,” I whispered .

“It will be as ye wish, Mary Lowell. If ye wish me to leave ye alone, I will. If ye wish my company, I’m here.”

“You’re not going back to Scotland?”

“Oh, aye, I must go back to Kilgannon. I have two sons and other responsibilities. But I will return if ye wish it.”

“How can you do that?”

“Ride verra quickly.” He was grinning again and I laughed. “We wouldna be bored in each other’s company, I can tell, Mary.”

We stood in awkward silence for a moment and then, mercifully, dinner was announced.

Exchanging a look as we moved back into the ballroom, we stood watching couples move together into the hall.

Couples. The thought of him sitting next to someone else during the meal was intolerable. I stole a glance at him.

“Alex.” I sounded like a child, and when he looked at me I could not finish. I stood there gazing up at him like an idiot.

He smiled. “Aye, Mary?”

“Will you escort me into the dining room?”

He gave me his arm. “I will indeed, thank ye, lass. It’s verra nice of ye to be so welcoming to a stranger.” I put my arm through his, feeling the strength of him under the soft velvet, and smiled.

Louisa’s elegant dining room was lavishly appointed, and so that no one forgot she was a married woman, the chair at the head of the table was these days left empty when she entertained, as though my uncle Randolph would return from France for the evening.

Alex and I were seated together, mid-table, Rowena on his right.

I wondered how she had managed that or if it were a ploy of Louisa’s.

Rowena acted as though she’d never met me.

Of course, I told myself, it was quite possible she had not noticed me the other times. I’d not been in a man’s company.

“You are Countess Randolph’s niece,” Rowena said to me, leaning onto Alex’s shoulder as she spoke across him.

I said I was, but it wasn’t enough. She asked about my parents in great detail, determining exactly where I fit in the London hierarchy.

I was tempted to say something sharp about her questioning but swallowed it and looked across Alex’s profile to her again.

“And your family! Have you any in London besides your aunt?” she persisted.

“My brother, Will, and his wife, Betty, are here tonight. They, with Aunt Louisa, are the only family I have in London.”

“You are also the niece of Sir Harry Lowell, the Duke of Grafton?”

I nodded. Rowena glanced at her husband, seated down the table, and I followed her gaze.

The Marquess looked to be nearly seventy.

No wonder she looked at Alex as if he were a tempting dish.

And my uncle the duke outranks your husband the marquess, I said to myself, but found little comfort in it.

My uncle Harry, the Duke of Grafton, was an unsociable man, very different from my father.

As far as I knew, Harry had not been to London in years.

He said the crowds bothered him too greatly and so he stayed on his lands.

He had never married nor to my knowledge produced an heir.

I had seen him twice since my mother’s death.

“Is he in London as well!” Rowena asked.

“No. My uncle lives on his estate at Grafton.”

“How interesting,” she said, dismissing me as she turned to Alex with a smile and dimples, her head tilted. Alex chuckled.

“And where, Miss Lowell,” he said, imitating Rowena perfectly, “does yer uncle keep his money? At Grafton or in London?” Both Rowena and I looked at him in surprise.

“And Miss Lowell, what will ye have for breakfast?” He leaned toward me, his eyes merry.

“It’s verra important that we know.” He winked at me, and I laughed.

Rowena narrowed her eyes but forced a smile as he turned to her. “Tell me of the war in France, sir,” she said, watching his lips. “Was it terrible? I have been told you were wounded. ”

Alex’s expression was bland now. “It wasna terrible, madam. I wasna there long enough to suffer.”

“Is that why you returned before the war is over?”

“I wasna with the army. I returned home when my wife died.”

“Oh! How dreadful for you.”

“Aye,” he said, and gestured for more wine. He watched the footman pour it as if it were very important.

“You poor man! What happened to her?”

“She sickened and died of a fever.” Alex gave Rowena a polite smile. “Do you and the Marques have many children?”

“None, to my regret.”

“Well, good luck to ye,” he said, and leaned toward me. Rowena’s eyes flashed, but her anger was quickly suppressed and I tried not to laugh. “Have ye been to Scotland, Miss Lowell?”

“To Lothian when I was very little, sir, to visit Louisa’s first husband’s lands, but I don’t remember much of it.”

“Then ye’ve never really seen Scotland.” His eyes were dancing. “The Highlands are as like Lothian as the sun is to the moon. Ye must come for a visit. Ye might enjoy yerself hugely.”

I was laughing again. “I might at that.”

“Ye would. I’ll speak to yer aunt about arranging it soon.”

“I’ve never been to Scotland either, sir,” said Rowena. “Where do you recommend visiting?”

I was addressed then by the man on my left and reluctantly answered him.

I could not hear Alex’s answer nor what he and Rowena continued discussing.

For the next course I glanced at them when she laughed, which was often, and seethed when she put her hand on his arm while gazing into his eyes.

I wanted to say something devastating to her but could think of nothing that would be appropriate at Louisa’s table.

I consoled myself with shooting her looks of disdain, which she never noticed.

By the third course I felt much better, for Alex and I were engaged in an interesting discussion with people across the table about the future of the colonies, while Rowena talked with the very young man on her right.

I watched Alex listening intently and nodding or arguing a point with our companions.

His conduct was impeccable and his manner winning.

He soon had them laughing and agreeing to some silly suggestion of his, and I sat quietly, entranced with his performance.

He was at ease in the company, not at all the uncouth Scotsman he was supposed to be.

Of course, I reminded myself, he was an earl, the tenth of his line, and no doubt had had some polish applied along the way that the ordinary Scot might not have.

He answered my questions in a straightforward manner but with little elaboration, and I tried not to imitate Rowena.

The man across the table asked if it were true that Alex traded with the Continent.

Glances were exchanged as he said it was, and I watched it noted that the Earl of Kilgannon was in trade.

There were few worse social sins than to be industrious.

With the end of dinner my aunt’s guests moved back to the ballroom, some men withdrawing to smoke.

Alex, glancing at me, politely declined their invitation to join them.

As she escorted her guests out of the dining room, Louisa paused behind my chair.

“Why not go into the ballroom?” she asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. “The music is about to begin again.”