A Highland Folly (19 page)

If Lucais were here, she could not see him among the other guests. She wondered where he had gone. Had he left, furious that she had walked out without an explanation? She could not fault him for that. Or for anything else, she had to admit. Simply because she had always yearned for a big family and all its obligations was no reason to be irritated that he did not want the same. The least she could do was allow him a chance to answer the questions bombarding her mind instead of assuming the worse.

Neilli walked over to her, and Anice found herself again trying to swallow a groan. Since Lucais had brought her back to Ardkinloch after they were shot at on the brae above the cottage, Anice had not had a single conversation with her cousin that did not vex her in some manner.

Instead of the frown she had been wearing when she left the field behind the kirk, Neilli was grinning. “Mam told me something you need to hear, Anice.”

The sigh refused to be silenced, but Anice was able to refrain from speaking the first words that popped into her head. Neilli would be distressed if Anice mentioned that Aunt Coira seldom said anything worth listening to. “What is that?”

“It is about
him
.”

“What about Lucais?” She frowned as she realized Neilli had not said
him
with her usual rancor. Instead, there was excitement in her cousin's voice.

“Mam has heard that
he
is the heir of a wealthy peer.”

Anice could not halt her laugh as she thought of Lucais covered with dirt from working side by side with his men.

Putting her hands on her waist and ruining the lovely lines of her light pink gown, Neilli scowled. “Do not laugh! It is the truth.”

“Do you really think so? Where did Aunt Coira get that information?”

Neilli lost her belligerent pose as she replied in a near whisper, “Mam heard it in the village. Mrs. Tawes was telling Mrs.—”

“Oh, Neilli, you should not heed such gossip.” Putting her hands on her cousin's shoulders, she asked, “What would a peer's heir be doing in Killiebige, building a bridge over the river? A peer's heir would be in London, where he could take part in the entertainments of the Season while he wooed one lass after another.”

“Parlan is here instead of in Town, where he could be enjoying such entertainments.”

“Parlan is not—”

“Until you wed and have children, Anice, he is
your
heir.”

She nodded slowly. She knew that Parlan was next in line to be head of the Kinloch family but seldom gave that fact any thought. Mayhap he knew that she had had no interest in a beau, that she was determined to make herself a place in this family before even considering creating a family of her own with a husband and children.

These thoughts were uncomfortable. She had wanted to believe that Parlan welcomed her, that the whole family was glad to have her arrive in Scotland to be part of Ardkinloch. For so long she had imagined having a family that she could be a true part of, not just to live among acquaintances she would know for a few weeks or months before moving somewhere else.

She glanced around the room again. The feeling of being a part of this house in an unbroken line that went back to the ancient Picts had vanished. Suddenly she seemed to be outside the merriment and music as if she were observing it from a distance greater than from here to Bonito's birthplace in South America.

“Anice! Anice, are you listening?” Neilli's voice was still filled with excitement, but the taint of frustration ran through it.

“I am sorry. What did you say?” She forced a smile. Or tried to, because her face was as stiff as her body that seemed encased in the rocks Lucais's men were tearing from the brae.

“I said that you should find out if the
on-dits
about Lucais MacFarlane are true.”

Anice took a steadying breath and met her cousin's eyes as she asked, “Me? Why would I wish to make myself look like a gawney by asking some obviously addled questions?”

“Addled?”

“
I
would appear addled to ask him if he was the heir to a grand title because I cannot think of a single reason he would be here rather than in Town. Can you?”

“If I had ever been to Town, I might know the answer to that.”

Anice sighed once more. If Neilli was going to be petulant, there was no reason to try to talk sense with her. She started to turn away, but her cousin called her name. “Yes?” she replied.

“What if it is not just a rumor, Anice?” Neilli's eyes glistened with excitement. “What if Lucais MacFarlane is really the son of a marquess?”

“A marquess? Why not a duke?”

“Anice!”

“I ask you again: What would a peer's son be doing here, overseeing the construction of a road through a small town and a bridge across our river?”

Neilli shrugged as she looked across the room. Her eyes narrowed as a smile slipped along her lips. “I think it is time someone found out, don't you think so?”

“Neilli, you will only embarrass him if these rumors are not true.”

“I can be subtle.”

Anice doubted that but did not want to goad her cousin into doing something skimble-skamble. “Let me go with you. I will—”

“Lady Kinloch!” interrupted Sir Busby as he bustled toward them. “A grand gathering! A most grand gathering! A fine ending to a day that I feared would be troublesome. You, as befits your place as Lady Kinloch, clearly saw what I and others had not. All of those who have been lamenting that Ardkinloch has been too long in mourning and no longer a part of Killiebige and the rest of the glen will be silenced with this grand gathering.”

Letting the baronet bow over her hand, Anice smiled. “All that was needed to bring us all together was an excuse.”

“And the archery contest today was just the excuse.” He chuckled but looked past her. “I was certain I saw the twins nearby.”

“Neilli is right …” Anice clenched her jaw when she realized that her cousin had taken advantage of Anice's conversation with Sir Busby to sneak away.

She did not need to look around. She knew where Neilli was headed. Although she wished for a way to put an end to this conversation with Sir Busby, she could think of none. Others came to join the discussion of the week's uncommonly warm weather. Each time she hoped to ease out of the circle, someone would ask her opinion about the herds in the area or the weather or the news of the latest political decision from London.

What a muff she had been to think that the evening might be difficult because of her uncertainty about Lucais! If Neilli was so bold as to pose her questions to Lucais, and Anice knew her cousin would be that brazen if she thought there was any chance Lucais might possess a title, then this evening—and mayhap much longer—was bound to be even worse than she had ever imagined.

Much worse.

Lucais smiled as he took a sip of the whisky that had been offered him. He had always missed these fine whiskies, as individual as each glen and as smooth as Bonito's coat. His smile broadened when he thought of the peculiar beast that seemed to have taken a true liking to him after their first encounter by the cottage.

While waiting for this assembly to begin, he had gone outside to enjoy some fresh air. Bonito had approached him before the door was closed. The majestic beast was not affectionate but appreciated having company as Lucais had wandered around the yard in front of the sheepfold. Pippy had been curled into a ball, snoring softly, in one corner of the barn.

Lucais pushed through the crowd. Even this grand room was choke-full when all of the Kinlochs were gathered with their guests. He had not realized how many relatives were living in this house. He guessed there must be at least two score. No wonder Anice often sought solitude on the hill.

Where was she? He had been watching the door for her to come in. She had arrived and been swallowed by the gathering. As its hostess, she must be busy with all the details that would assure that her guests enjoyed themselves. How many of these assemblies had he attended? Not once, before tonight, had he thought of the work hosting one required.

He listened to the music coming from the far corner of the room. The violinist was skilled, although the tempo was slower than he had heard it played at Her Grace's rout, the last party he had attended in Town. Odd that the melody brought Anice to mind, for it was lush and seductive while at the same time it had a gentleness that reached deep within him to stir a warmth.

Lucais could not keep from staring as he saw Anice speaking with Sir Busby Crenton and some others by the door to the room. Even in the sloppy clothes she wore when working on the hill or in the sheepfold, Anice was lovely. Now she was dressed in an ethereal gown of unblemished white. The flowers woven through her auburn hair were as pale, but a soft flush brightened her cheeks. Her delicate beauty was an illusion, he knew, because her eyes showcased her determination that never faltered.

He smiled when she stepped back as her neighbor waved his hands enthusiastically to make some point. She wore an expression he recognized too easily, for he had seen it on so many faces in London when a person was doing his or her best to pretend to be interested in something that filled them with ennui. Only she was trying to hide the fact, and he guessed that the baronet had no idea that she wished to be elsewhere.

And with someone else? He hoped so, for he wanted to be with her. When he put his hand on her elbow, she looked back at him. Her eyes glistened and she smiled when he asked, “May I speak with you a moment, Anice?”

“Of course. Excuse me,” she said to the others crowding around her and Sir Busby.

The round man folded his hands over the brown-striped waistcoat covering his full stomach. “Dashed skilled eye you have, MacFarlane,” the baronet said.

“Thank you. I like to think that I do have a skilled eye.” He glanced at Anice. When she grimaced, he resisted laughing.

Sir Busby clearly did not notice, because he continued. “Where did you learn to let an arrow fly like that?”

“My older brother taught me.”

Something in those few words clearly betrayed the sorrow he tried to conceal, because Anice's hand settled on his arm, squeezing it gently. He added something that the baronet must have taken as an excuse to take his leave, because Sir Busby turned back to the others and went on with his story about a recent journey to Aberdeen.

Lucais's smile returned when he heard Anice humming along with the musicians. Her voice was not loud, but it resonated through him. Taking her hand, he drew it within his arm. Then, with a chuckle, he twirled her to the music. She stepped back and curtsied before he drew her back to spin her around.

“No one else is dancing,” she said, laughing.

“I have seen already that Lady Kinloch does not always follow the ways others choose.”

“It would be easier if I could.”

“But not as much fun.” He took her hand again as he led her toward a door that he had used earlier when he was seeking some quiet.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Out.”

She laughed again, the sound even more melodic in his ears than the song played by the musicians. “That I can see.”

Lucais led her to the edge of the terraced area that was lined with sculptured stones that he suspected had been taken from Dhùin Liath to be reused here. When the speed of his steps increased as he led her down the stairs at one side, she laughed.

“Where are we going?” she asked, keeping pace with him as he crossed the lower terrace.

“Here.” He drew her around the corner.

He brushed his hand against Anice's hair as she leaned her head on his shoulder and they walked toward the fountain that whispered soft music. Mayhap once the water had been tossed into the air and then fallen back into the bronze pool, where sculptured fish swam, but now the water only swirled in the basin.

She bent to dip her fingers into it, and the last rays of the setting sun added to the auburn glow of her hair. When she straightened, he was amazed to see that her smile had vanished.

“Lucais, I have something I must ask you.” She sat on the edge of the fountain where the tiles were engraved with what looked like autumn leaves. “Have you seen Neilli?”

“Neilli?” He shook his head, astonished. Although he had not known what she wanted to ask him, he had not expected her to speak of her cousin when he brought her to this place where they could enjoy the music and the long twilight and the chance to be alone. “No, I haven't seen her.”

“Good.”

“Good? Why? Is she angry at me again?”

Anice stood and went to the edge of the lower terrace. She ran her fingers along the top of the railing, and he wished she would stroke him as lightly. “No, she is not angry at you.”

“I guess there must be a first time for every experience.” He pressed his lips to her nape. “Such as this.”

When her breath burst from her in a startled gasp, he slid his finger along her bare shoulder. In its wake, his lips sampled her soft skin that was lightly freckled. He laughed softly, then let his tongue glide over it. She gripped his arm around her waist and leaned back against him. He contracted his arm, pulling her even closer.

She moaned and turned in his embrace to face him. He saw her eyes widen in the moment before he continued to trace a path amid her pale freckles. It led down along the curved neckline of her gown. When his tongue brushed the curve of her breast, he knew he was being a fool. He had spent so many nights not able to sleep as his fantasies sent a desperate need through him. How much more tormenting would they become when he imagined kissing her even more intimately when this fine silk was not between them?

He could not answer that question as her hands guided his mouth to hers. Each of her ragged breaths was an invitation to ecstasy. Her tongue grazed his as he sought deep in her mouth, and he was sure that he was about to explode with the power of a barrel of gunpowder.