Page 17 of The Lady’s Reckless Abandon (Safely in Scotland #1)

L ily could barely breathe as she waited for Finn’s reaction. It had been a silly thing to do, and perhaps he would hate it. But after hearing of his family’s tradition of celebrating birthdays, she couldn’t let it pass by without the proper acknowledgement.

If he didn’t like this, she could easily ask Cook to change the menu for dinner and dessert so not to make things worse.

“Lemon cake?” he said quietly.

“For breakfast,” she noted as if he hadn’t realized that already. There was still the normal breakfast fare waiting on the sideboard in case he sent the cake away in disgust, but he smiled at her.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice cracking on the last word. She felt his pain even though she had never met his mother and could not feel her loss. But seeing how much he missed his family made her hurt for him.

After helping her sit, he took the knife and cut each of them what could only be called a giant serving of cake. They dug in while exchanging laughter.

“I do feel like I’m doing something naughty by having cake for breakfast,” she admitted.

He laughed around a big bite that crumbled off his fork and down his chin.

“Everything is permissible on a birthday, Lady Lily. It’s the only way to celebrate.”

“Then let us celebrate properly,” she said, shoving a forkful of the delicious cake into her mouth.

After their breakfast—if one could call such a gluttony, breakfast—they changed into old clothes then went into the garden to pull weeds and plant the seeds she’d asked Oliver to send for in the village.

“These say they are pink. Let’s put them in with the other pink flowers over there,” she ordered though it wasn’t for her to say. She wouldn’t even be there long enough to see them bloom, so why it mattered where they were planted, she didn’t know. She only knew that the late duchess had a section of the garden filled with just pink flowers and these new pink flowers should go there as well.

“Yes. Let’s put them over there. That is where Mother would have wanted them.”

“Was pink her favorite color?”

“Aye. Though she’d tell you she liked all the flowers the same, she had a preference for the pink ones.”

“I thought as much. Many of the flowers you picked for her bouquet yesterday were pink.”

They toiled away at their task for most of the day, only taking a break for tea and lemonade in the shade when Mrs. MacDougal insisted.

“Her Grace would have been pleased to see ye working among the flowers, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said. “It is a lovely thing you did, my lady, to think of such a fine way to remember the duchess.”

“It was nothing,” Lily said, but Finn shook his head.

“It was not nothing. It’s very kind of you.”

She accepted his praise, though it hadn’t taken much to speak to Mrs. Feather and request a few meals. Still, Lily knew how some of the simplest things meant the most.

The duke didn’t seem surprised when the rais’d giblet pie was served for dinner followed by blancmange and strawberries for dessert. But he did stop mid-step as they left the formal dining room and she led him to the ballroom instead of the music room which had become their routine.

“The ballroom?” he asked, pausing again at the door. His eyes went wide when she opened the door and light spilled out into the hallway. Then the music began to play.

“Who…?”

“I hired a few musicians from the village.” She smiled and then leaned closer to explain. “You probably wonder how I hired them when I have no money. I promised a few lessons in exchange for their playing this evening so we might have a proper birthday ball. It wouldn’t be right to allow Her Grace’s birthday to pass without this part of the celebration, now would it?”

He swallowed and she saw the way the light from the elaborate chandelier gleamed in his glistening eyes.

Because the moment was growing too serious, she added, “Unfortunately, if you fall asleep down here, no one will be able to carry you to your bed, Your Grace. I’m afraid I can’t manage it, and Oliver declined as well.”

He shook his head and then held out his hand.

“Shall we?” he asked.

She gripped his fingers and they began to dance. Mrs. Prichard took an offer of a dance with Nimbly the steward, and Oliver danced with Mrs. MacDougal who had just brought a batch of whisky punch that seemed much too large for such a small gathering. But then Lily remembered they were Scots.

They danced and laughed until well into the night when the punch was all but gone.

“I hope I did not cause you any pain today,” she said.

He shook his head, though a little wobbly. “Nay, Lily. It was quite the opposite. I miss her, and when I thought of today as I got out of bed, I did feel that loss. But this… what you did… has been such a joy to remember her and the things she loved. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Finn.”

She’d only had two cups of punch, but she blamed the whisky for her lapse in using the man’s given name. Why had Mrs. MacDougal added so much whisky? She nearly rolled her eyes at her silly question. The answer was always the same.

They were Scots.

Finn’s eyes went wide, the amber and green like flames.

“My apologies, Your Gr—”

“Nay. I liked it. Hearing ye say my name.” He blinked slowly, obviously feeling the effects of the punch as well. She noticed his Scottish brogue was more pronounced when he was tipsy.

She stepped back and he stepped forward, stumbling slightly.

It seemed she would need to return the favor of helping him to his bed and removing his shoes. Though his boots looked as if they would prove more cumbersome than her slippers had been. Fortunately, he had a valet to do such things. Although Thomas looked very red-cheeked at the moment.

Leaning on her, Finn allowed her to lead him upstairs to his rooms. Inside, she helped him to the bed where he flopped heavily on a bedspread of dark green.

He offered a lopsided grin, with the dimple, as he reached for her.

“Stay with me, Lily.”

The request should have shocked her. Instead she simply looked toward the door to make sure Mrs. Prichard hadn’t followed them. But they were alone.

Something that was even more evident when he reached up to run his fingers through her hair, before he pulled her slowly but steadily toward him.

She was not so in her cups this night, so she was able to decide whether she should stop him or go along with his silent request. She almost wished she had consumed more of the punch for then she would have had a good reason for why she didn’t stop him.

Their lips touched and she tasted the smokey flavor of the whisky mixed with the fruitiness of the punch. Not surprising the whisky was the more potent of the two.

But she only spared another second on thoughts of punch before she was swept up in the kiss. His tongue entered her mouth in small licks and teases.

She’d only kissed one person until now. And Reggie’s tongue had not taunted hers into play, but had lurched in demanding space in her mouth.

She squeezed her lids shut even though her eyes were already closed. She didn’t want to think of Reggie when she was kissing Finn. The two were not close enough for comparison. It would be like comparing cats and dogs. No. That was not fair to cats. Damp, ugly garden slugs and dogs.

It took her too long to notice his tongue was gone. In fact, everywhere he’d touched her was gone.

She opened her eyes to see the duke had fallen asleep, his lips still glistening from their kiss. Chuckling, she backed away and put her hand out on the poster of the bed to steady herself.

Glancing down at the duke’s feet, she determined she was in no shape to help remove his boots. Not just because they seemed formed to his legs and would take a great deal of strength to remove, but because if she started removing the duke’s boots, she might not be able to stop there.

Walking in a meandering trail to the door, she knocked until the door opened and the duke’s valet, Thomas, entered weaving a crooked path into the room.

“Finn is in need of assistance,” she announced louder than necessary.

At seeing the valet’s surprise, she recalled her earlier blunder.

“I mean, Finn’s Grace, of course.”

“Of course,” he said as he pulled the bell. A chamber maid arrived with a look of confusion.

“Please help Lady Lily to her room.”

“You must take off my slippers,” Lily said with another inappropriate giggle. “Yes, my lady, I shall do that,” the maid said.

“I only had two small cups,” Lily explained.

“My lord. Two cups for this little thing?” The woman turned back to Thomas. “Is all the house in their cups tonight?”

“Aye, I believe so,” Thomas answered with a hiccup. Which made Lily laugh.

“It’s a celebration,” Lily explained, now whispering quite loudly. “I believe I may be worse than I thought.”

“Mrs. Feather’s punch sneaks up on ye. Come now, let’s get you in order.”

I kissed Finn. And it was the best kiss I’ve ever had. She hoped she only thought that last part rather than said it out loud.