Page 83 of Romancing the Scot
“Of course, m’lady,” she curtsied again, looking up into the warm face that handsomely reflected her age. “I’m honored.”
In the next instant, Grace found herself pulled into the countess’s embrace. And this wasn’t a polite peck on the cheek, or a cursory display of hospitality. She was held in a hug of affection, of reassurance, of welcome, of belonging.
“And you’ll call me Millicent, all right?” she whispered in her ear.
Whatever semblance of control she’d been able to hold onto until that moment imploded. The knot in her throat closed tight, and Grace leaned into the mother’s touch, allowing herself to be held as her tears broke free.
Millicent brushed a kiss on her brow.
Grace didn’t trust her voice to apologize for her emotional outburst in front of everyone. A bubble had burst, and she couldn’t look up or say more for fear the floodgates would open. The countess didn’t let go of her hands.
“Lyon,” Millicent said over her shoulder. “Pray go on to drawing room. We’ll meet you there shortly.”
Drawing Grace inside the door, the countess handed her a silk handkerchief to dry her tears.
“You go too, Hugh,” Millicent said when Grace felt the warmth of his touch on her arm. “I promise to deliver her safely to you in a moment.”
Shielded by the countess, she smiled in embarrassment when Jo joined them, adding another wall of privacy.
“I must apologize,” she said to the two of them. “I’ve certainly failed to make a good first impression. But I was so nervous . . . and your reception . . . your kindness.”
“No more of that, child. And no more worrying about how you’ll be received by us, or by Hugh’s brother and sisters, or the rest of the family.” She lifted Grace’s chin until their eyes met. “When we read his letter telling us of your adventures, and of your courage, and of his love, and most of all, of his intention of marrying you, we were elated. You see, our dreams for him had finally come true. Grace, we’ve been praying for this day.”
“Do you believe me now?” Jo teased, giving her arm a squeeze. She turned to her mother. “We’d better go in or Hugh will send a search party for her.”
Millicent smiled. “Oh, how long I’ve waited for this.”
“Never mind Hugh’s attachment to her,” Jo said, slipping an arm through Grace’s. “I’ve claimed her asmyfriend . . . and sister.”
“In that case we shall definitely keep her.”
Grace had regained control of her emotions by the time the three of them made their way to the drawing room. She still needed to be introduced to his lordship, but she guessed after the countess’s reception, there wasn’t anything that she couldn’t handle.
The men stood when they entered the room. Grace’s heart warmed at the way Hugh’s gaze immediately sought hers, and a silent message passed between them.
Flanked by the two women, Grace curtsied as Hugh once again introduced her.
Lord Aytoun gazed at her intently for a moment. “My son tells me you’re a Macpherson on your mother’s side . . . and a Jacobite.”
Drat. Not again, Grace thought. She was not going to deny her family or her beliefs. Never again.
“That is correct, m’lord,” she said, holding her head high.
“Excellent,” the earl growled, sounding pleased. “It’s about time we had another in the family.”
Jo leaned over and whispered, “Our Aunt Portia, Pierce’s wife, is a daughter of Bonnie Prince Charlie. But don’t tell anyone.”
Chapter 29
After two days of losing Grace to his family for talks and walks, estate tours and rides, Hugh was more than ready to ship his parents back to Hertfordshire. His father was charmed by Grace’s stories of all the places she’d traveled to and the battles she’d witnessed. He couldn’t get enough of her tales, and he was fascinated by her incredible memory. Hugh’s mother had found a new daughter. She contrived ways of keeping Grace and Jo with her as much of the day as possible.
Hugh was truly pleased with the well-deserved attention she was receiving. At the same time he enjoyed playing the role of the irritable ignored lover. He especially appreciated all the interest Grace gave him when he slipped into her bed each night after everyone was sleep.
But all of that changed now. Aston MacKay, the law clerk Hugh sent to Antwerp, had arrived in the Borders with the British embassy officials from Brussels.
Hugh had held back from telling Grace he was coming. MacKay had gone to the Continent to search out information about a missing American woman, but after meeting with the two Englishmen, he’d written to Hugh again. An urgent meeting with Grace had been requested regarding an undisclosed agreement between Daniel Ware and the British government. Now they were seeking her help.
As instructed, MacKay had situated the men at the George Inn. This morning, Hugh mentioned the names to his father. As a longtime member of Parliament, the earl’s knowledge of families connected with the government extended far beyond Hugh’s.
