Page 31 of The Scot’s Seduction (Heirs & Spares #2)

Yes, perhaps he would marry...eventually. But he doubted that, since he had the suspicion that there was no other woman he could even settle for, since there was no other woman who could hold a candle to her in his estimation.

Wonderful. It would be just him and his sheep for perpetuity.

“I imagine you will soon have Miss Emily off your hands, judging by how many eligible gentlemen are in attendance this evening,” Mrs. Smithwick said, disrupting his thoughts. “That will certainly be a relief.”

He would have agreed when all of this started. But even without the Drusilla element, he’d discovered he liked being Emily’s guardian; her joyous enthusiasm for things, her righteous indignation, her curiosity, all made her a wonderful companion and someone he wanted to watch grow and learn.

But Mrs. Smithwick didn’t deserve to hear all of that from him, so he merely gave a noncommittal smile.

“You will stay in London after she is wed?” Mrs. Smithwick continued, her voice casually hopeful. “I would think there is so much more to do here, things a young lady such as your ward would not be interested in.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, being deliberately vague. It was rather fun to watch her grow increasingly frustrated at his refusal to commit.

“And Scotland, where you live, must be remote. I cannot imagine you have the same type of opportunity for interaction there as here.”

“I don’t look on that as necessarily a bad thing,” he said, again in a neutral tone.

She blinked, then frowned, then just looked confused.

“Well,” he said, relieved to hear the final strains of the music, “it seems the dance is over.” Miss Joey was back by the musicians, giving them a fierce look and gesticulating with very firm hand gestures.

Hopefully the music problem would be solved, at least. “I must return to Lady Drusilla. Where may I escort you, Mrs. Smithwick?”

“I will join the ladies in the cardroom,” she replied with a tight smile. “Though my luck is not running as I wish it to,” she added, which made Murdoch nearly laugh aloud.

He walked her in silence to the cardroom, then quickly took his leave, searching for Drusilla among the throngs of people who’d arrived since he and Mrs. Smithwick started dancing.

He found her immediately. It wasn’t just that she was wearing a rich blue gown, one nearly as vibrant as she; it was that she seemed to be lit from within, her eyes sparkling with laughter and intelligence.

She was smiling at one of the guests, and she was paying careful attention, as she always did, to what was being said.

Her figure was displayed beautifully in her evening gown, those breasts he’d been dreaming about encased in azure satin, trimmed with velvet ribbons.

Her hips flared below her nipped-in waist, and three strings of sapphires were around her neck.

Her hair was looped back in a simple style, though of course a few errant strands had fallen out, as was their custom.

Her gloves were white satin, and he imagined sliding them down her arms, inch by inch, to reveal her creamy skin. Just then, she shifted her gaze, and their eyes caught.

As did his breath.

He knew everything he felt for her must be in his eyes, and he tried to shutter his expression. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with the knowledge that he felt so much more for her than she did for him.

Just make it through tonight, and then the rest of the time here, and you will be fine , he assured himself. Just make it through without her finding out.

Though he didn’t know if he could trust himself.

A t least Murdoch wasn’t put off by everything that had gone wrong...so far. The missing desserts, the drunk musicians, the flat champagne, and she’d just noticed the flowers were beginning to wilt because they were placed too close to the candles. At least they weren’t alight?

Though perhaps she shouldn’t even think that, or it would happen.

He met her gaze across the crowded room, and it was as though he’d told her to breathe and that it would all be fine. She found comfort in him, even if he was several feet away. She’d never felt that with anyone but Joey before.

And Miss Emily seemed to also be having a good time, either not noticing what was occurring or not letting it bother her.

Several gentlemen were clustered around her at the moment, all of them vying for her attention, with her making certain, as Drusilla had instructed her, to give equal notice to all.

Mr. Venning had yet to make an appearance; Drusilla hoped he would arrive, if only to gauge Miss Emily’s level of interest.

“Dru.” She turned at the sound of Joey’s voice, bracing herself for another mishap.

Joey’s expression told her to expect the worst.

“Um,” Joey began, making Drusilla’s chest tighten. If Joey was hesitant to say something, it was really bad.

“Say it.”

Joey drew a breath. “Well, it seems some of the gentlemen spiked the punch that was meant for the non-drinkers, which means that—” She pointed to one of the corners of the ballroom. Drusilla turned and looked, her eyes widening at the sight.

Several dowagers, the grandes dames of Society, were in various states of inebriation, their headdresses askew, feathers waving in the air, lopsided tiaras dangling from ears, riotous laughter bursting from them every minute or so.

One of the ladies had her evening gown drawn up to her knees, which revealed her stockings, while another was hanging on a much younger gentleman who appeared nearly as enthusiastic about the physical contact as his partner.

A few of the older gentlemen were wandering around looking confused, their blazing red cheeks indicating their state of intoxication. Two of the men were waltzing together even though the musicians were playing—quite badly—a country dance.

Drusilla’s footmen were scurrying around the group attempting to hand them water, but most of the liquid was getting sloshed onto the floor, which meant it was bound to cause someone to slip in their drunkenness.

She gathered her skirts up and took off toward the corner, Joey behind her, then halted right in front of the mayhem.

“I have no idea what to do,” she muttered.

“Let me help,” Murdoch said behind her. “I might have more experience with this. My farmers like to get a bit raucous after we finish the shearing.”

He beckoned to Harry, the one-legged coachman who stood by the door to the kitchen. While he obviously couldn’t handle serving, he was good at managing workers, and so he was in charge of his coachmen, who were tonight’s footmen.

“Yes, my lord?”

“You were in the military.”

Harry nodded.

“Go make the strongest coffee you can. The kind that would force your laziest soldier to move.”

Harry grinned. “Aye, my lord.”

Murdoch turned to Drusilla. “As long as we can keep them from getting into any fights before we sober them up, they should be fine.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I think this means the whole tableau event is off. I don’t want those ladies anywhere near my unbared knees.”

She was opening her mouth to respond when a voice cut through the ruckus.

“What is this?”

Murdoch, Drusilla, and Joey turned. It was Lady Tompson, the woman who’d been so irate about the Baxter children appearing at Mrs. Smithwick’s picnic.

She was staring at Elizabeth, the eldest Baxter, who’d recently turned fifteen, and who was proving to be an excellent maid.

Maids didn’t generally serve at parties, but Drusilla thought it would be fine if Elizabeth came to refill the sandwiches every so often.

She hadn’t anticipated anyone recognizing her, much less someone who already thought she was a thief.

“She’s trying to poison me!” Lady Tompson continued, pointing an accusatory finger at the girl, who looked terrified. Lady Tompson’s other hand held a plate with a half-eaten sandwich, and there was a full array of sandwiches on the table nearby.

Drusilla glided between them. “Surely there is a misunderstanding, my lady. This is my maid, and she is helping since we are shorthanded. Why would she—?”

“This ham is bad,” Lady Tompson interrupted.

She picked it up off the plate and thrust it toward Drusilla’s face.

Drusilla couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the odor, because yes, it did smell off.

“I took one just after that beggar brought the sandwiches out, and I took a bite before I realized. She’s trying to poison me! ”

By now, the musicians had stopped playing their execrable music, which meant that the dancers had also stopped, and most of the guests were listening to Lady Tompson, with the murmurs growing in intensity.

Oh dear , Drusilla thought.

“The ham has gone off,” she admitted, raising her voice so as to reach all the interested eavesdroppers. “But this is not a deliberate act; our Cook has a cold, and likely could not smell it when she was making the sandwiches. I will just—”

“Do you deny you have orphans in your home?” Lady Tompson said, her tone strident.

Drusilla gave a wry smile. “Well, no, my lady, I don’t. My parents have passed, and I believe yours have as well.” She spread her hands wide to indicate the other guests. “I presume there are many here who could—”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it. That sneak has made her way into your home to rob all of us blind!”

“Don’t you think—” Drusilla began, then shook her head.

There was no reasoning with someone as prejudiced as Lady Tompson.

Instead, she took the lady’s arm in hers.

“Come with me, my lady, and allow me to escort you to my own private sitting room. You’ve had a dreadful shock.

” She glanced over Lady Tompson’s head at Joey.

“I can get you a sherry and a digestive biscuit.”

“I’d rather have a glass of champagne,” Lady Tompson said, at which both Drusilla and Joey winced.

“We’ll see what we can find,” Drusilla promised as she led her out of the ballroom.

Miss Emily’s party could not have been any more of a fiasco if she had planned it.

But at least Miss Emily seemed to be enjoying herself.

And the party would be talked about for weeks after, which was not a good thing, but it would bring Miss Emily to people’s attention.

Then, when they discovered what a lovely girl she was, they would embrace her.

Even as they might shun Drusilla. But she was accustomed to that.