Page 22 of A Rogue in Firelight
“But I speak Gaelic,” Ellison reminded him.
“She is essential for this,” Lady Strathniven pointed out. “Mr. MacGregor will require proper clothing. Adam, you must lend him some things.”
“I will not. Besides, the fellow is too large. He would split my tailored coats.”
“Then we will find something. So, it is decided,” his aunt continued. “Send the fellow to Strathniven. We will tutor him and introduce him as Lord Darrach.”
“That is not decided either,” Sir Hector cautioned.
“I have grave doubts,” Corbie insisted. “A crofter and a thief in plaid rags who speaks no English, has not seen the sharp side of a razor, and does not know a soup spoon from a sugar spoon. Civilizing him will need more than a frock coat and some English words. Remember, if this fails, all our reputations will be at risk.”
“You can be so dreary sometimes, Adam,” his aunt said.
“MacGregor was probably educated in a glen school,” Ellison said. “And if he creates a whisky so extraordinary the very king loves it, he is smart and discerning.”
“Exactly,” the viscountess said. “We shall sew up the rest into a fine gentleman.”
“Sow’s ear into a silk purse,” Corbie muttered.
“Yes!” His aunt smiled. “Hector?”
“Papa?” Ellison asked, turning expectantly.
Sir Hector threw his napkin on the table. “I see no other solution. I will arrange something. A temporary warrant of release may do for a fortnight.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
“Just tutor this fellow in the basics and be done with it. But I must insist, Ellison, that you are never alone with him. Understood?”
“If I must provide lessons—”
“I agree.” Corbie spoke over her. “Sir, I should go to Strathniven as well.”
“You are needed in Edinburgh,” Sir Hector barked.
“I will chaperone,” Lady Strathniven said. “We will teach him proper manners. Perhaps some dancing lessons too.”
“Dancing! Outrageous,” Corbie grumbled.
“He will be quite the success. So handsome and appealing!” Lady Strathniven smiled.
“Heaven forfend,” Sir Hector muttered.
*
Seated in herfather’s library reading, Ellison looked out a tall window, watching for Lady Strathniven’s coach. Her baggage was packed and she was excited to start the adventure she secretly craved.
Again her thoughts went to Mr. Ronan MacGregor. Papa had promised a safe warrant to grant the man a temporary release. But MacGregor seemed proud and strong-willed; he could refuse to comply with the proposal.
She frowned, wondering if her father and Corbie would inform him of the plan. Sighing, she knew Corbie was adamant against her involvement. He was oddly possessive of her, though he claimed fondness. He might seem an excellent match for her. His persistence and remarkable head for detail could bring him more responsibility in the government; he had a good income, and he was Lady Strathniven’s sole heir. His prospects were excellent. He was nice-looking, short but strong, with pleasant if plain features, sandy-colored hair, brown eyes, and a solicitous manner.
Having known him for years, she knew his tendency to criticize, knew the lack of sympathy he could show for those in lesser circumstances. His arrogance could be too much in evidence. But she found it less easy to define her feeling of discomfort around him; she never fully relaxed in his company. Corbie was interested in Corbie, a quality she found difficult to comprehend.
Yet Sir Hector relied on him and Lady Strathniven cared about him. Both would favor a marriage between Ellison and Adam someday. She wondered if Corbie had mentioned his interest to her father yet. She had a feeling that would come soon.
And lately he seemed jealous of MacGregor. However unfounded, it explained his obstinance regarding any plan that elevated MacGregor and brought her near the man.
All that mattered to her was her father’s well-being. She had a unique chance to regain his respect and bridge the gap in their troubled relationship. As for Adam Corbie, she would continue to keep a cool distance and hope for the best.
