Page 37 of Provoked
“I don’t think she likes Lord Murdo,” David concluded, “though her mother seems to. She hinted there might be a man in London she favours but didn’t mention anyone in particular.”
“No one who could be Lees?”
“Not that she mentioned, but I could tell she was being careful.”
“It doesn’t matter. Lees will turn up at her door eventually,” Euan said. “I’m sure of it.”
David couldn’t help but hope that Euan was wrong, that Lees would stay well away from Isabella Galbraith. He knew how desperately Euan longed to confront the man, but he worried for the lad. For all Euan’s insistence that he was tougher than he looked, he wasn’t much more than a boy, and his fierce idealism would be no match for a man like Lees.
It would be a long while before Euan would give up waiting for Lees, if the man never appeared. But as determined and committed as Euan was, he would give up eventually. There was nothing in the world like a long, dreary wait for slowly killing every bit of hope in you. David knew that better than anyone.
After Will had left Midlauder, David had waited more than two years for just a glimpse of the friend he’d loved so dearly. But the flame of hope that burned so strongly in David’s heart to begin with couldn’t keep burning with nothing to fuel it. As letter after letter went unanswered, David’s hope had slowly died, till there was nothing but ashes left. And when he’d finally seen Will again, riding through Midlauder on a fine black horse, he hadn’t even been surprised when his friend had looked away without speaking. As though they were perfect strangers.
David glanced at Euan. The lad still leaned against the wall in his threadbare coat, staring out the mouth of the close. He looked oddly lost and David was reminded again of himself in his university days, struggling to find a place in a new and very different world. It had been hard, even with the wee bits of money his father had periodically scraped together for him, to get through those years of study. How much harder was it for Euan with his only family torn from him?
As they waited, they talked in a desultory way. David stamped his feet and rubbed his gloved hands together against the cold. Euan didn’t seem to feel the cold as badly. He stayed in the same position throughout, leaning against the wall, shoulders hunched and chin burrowed down inside the collar of his coat, but otherwise his lanky frame was still.
“You should go home, Davy,” he said eventually. “You’re freezing, and it’s not as though you can come with me when I follow the lassie anyway.”
Davidwasfreezing. And tired and bored. Nevertheless, he felt a stab of guilt to leave Euan alone here.
“Are you sure? I can stay a bit longer if you want the company.”
“To be honest, watching you huff and puff and rub your hands is making me feel the cold more than if I was on my own.”
David gave a laugh. “All right, but if you get tired of freezing your arse out here, the offer of a bed stands, no matter the hour.”
“Thank you,” Euan replied. “But I mean to wait by the girl’s door as long as it takes.”
“Let me know how you go, at least. You know where I am. Don’t leave it too long.”
Euan nodded. “I’ll call on you. Soon.”
David was about to step out of the shadows when Euan’s arm shot out, hauling him back. He staggered, his weight landing against the younger man’s chest.
“What—?”
“Wait!” Euan hissed. “Look who it is.”
A small group had just emerged from the Assembly Rooms—Balfour, Isabella Galbraith and Mrs. Galbraith. Balfour offered an arm to each of the two ladies, and they began to walk down the line of carriages. The carriages and horses soon impaired David’s view, but he spotted a groom jumping down from the driver’s bench of one of the parked carriages and running round to open a door. That had to be Balfour’s carriage.
“They’re leaving,” Euan said softly. “I’m going to start slowly walking that way now so it won’t be obvious I’m following them. Can you wait for a few minutes before you go? We’re less likely to be noticed if we come out of here separately.”
“Yes, of course,” David replied, but he was speaking to the night air. Euan had already sidled out and was gone.
David counted out five full minutes, waiting till Balfour’s carriage began pulling away before he emerged. But as soon as he stepped out, he saw he had made a grave error.
He should have waited a little longer, for on the other side of the road, in the space left by the departing carriage, stood Balfour. He’d put the ladies in the carriage, but he had stayed behind.
Balfour wore a long black evening cloak over his elegant clothes and carried a silver-topped cane. He looked magnificent and untouchable, and he was staring straight at David, standing in the mouth of the close.
David realised, with a dawning sort of awareness, that the expression on his own face probably looked nothing short of horrified. He turned on his heel and started walking quickly away in the opposite direction to that taken by Euan.
What had Balfour thought, seeing David emerge from the shadows of the narrow close, long after he’d left the Assembly Rooms? Given what David had done with Balfour in a similar place less than a month ago, he could make a fair guess, and his face burned at the thought.
He wasn’t far from the end of George Street when he heard his name being called. He turned around, unsurprised to see that it was Balfour calling to him—and not walking but actually loping down the street.
Even running down George Street in evening slippers, Balfour somehow managed to look effortlessly masculine. The thought might have made David smile if he hadn’t felt so nervous and mortified.