Page 5 of Lyon of Scotland
Soon she would be a happily married woman. There was no place in her life or her dreams for a tall, dark Highland man who hardly spoke to anyone.
Chapter One
London
October, 1820
AScotsman walkingabout in London was not uncommon, but a Scot in full Highland kit was definitely unusual. Striding down Godliman Street with St. Paul’s Cathedral behind him, Dare Drummond, Viscount Strathburn, Lord Lyon, gazed ahead, ignoring the stares and murmurs as he passed. He did rather stand out.
What he meant to accomplish today would benefit from his Scottish appearance. Let them stare; let the ladies giggle or gasp behind their gloves. He walked on.
In just a week or two, he could leave behind the clamor and smoke of London, its social events, and its gentry and nobility dropping sly hints showing general disdain for the Scots. In just a fortnight, he could head back to Scotland.
But today, as Lord Lyon, he intended to make a statement and “display the national costume in the thick of the ancient enemy,” as Sir Walter Scott put it. Scott was passionate about the Scottish character, and Dare supported that where he could in his office and outside of it. Though his kilt, sash, and stockingsin the Drummond tartan of crimson and green might seem a theatrical costume in London, it proved a point about Scottish identity.
Also, later today he would try to visit the Gordon-Huntly home in nearby Lincoln Inn’s Field. Recently Sir Archibald had asked him again if he would mind visiting Hannah if he had some time in London. He hardly needed reminding.
“She is doing some artwork in London now that you will find interesting,” Gordon had said. “She is doing some painting for the heraldry office.”
Yet another reason—and a powerful one—to visit the College of Arms, though he did not know if he would even see her there.
The autumn chill skimmed over his bare knees and fluttered the hem of his kilt. He caught more stares and heard a lady’s admiring murmur. Turning the corner, he approached the tall iron gates enclosing the College of Arms, England’s heraldry center.
“Lord Lyon to see Sir George Naylor, the Garter Principal,” he told the guard, producing the letter stating his appointment. Once inside the compound, the guard led him into the main building and along corridors where he caught more curious glances.
As they turned a corner, a young woman came through a doorway and stopped with a gasp. Her sapphire-blue eyes met his. Her lush lips gaped open.
“Miss Gordon,” he said with a tilt of the head and a smile that he held back, feeling a sudden thrill at seeing her. He had thought to call on her at her cousins’ house as Archibald Gordon had suggested, but finding her here was better than he had hoped.
“Lord Strathburn! You—you are in London.”
“I am, and so are you. Good to see you again.”
“And you, sir.” Her glance took in his bright Scottish plumage, and she smiled in approval. She wore plaid too, in a pale shawl draped over her simple gray gown. He recognized the Gordon sett of blue and green from patterns he had reviewed recently, now that his heraldry office approved tartans for the newly established tartan registry.
Truth told, he was not very surprised to find Hannah Gordon at the College of Arms, especially when he noticed the paint streaks on the linen pinafore covering her gown, a dab of pale blue on her cheek, and a slim paintbrush tucked in her honey-colored curls.
“Are you an artist here, Miss Gordon? Sir Archibald mentioned that you had some interest in heraldry art, and said you were in the city. I saw him recently,” he explained quickly.
“You saw him! How nice. I do some artwork here, aye.” She blushed, her face a sweet oval, her mouth lush and impish, her eyes so very blue. Nor could he help but notice the curving form beneath her clothing. “I am staying with cousins. And the Garter, Sir George, invited me to try my hand here. I find it so very interesting,” she said, sounding falsely bright. “What brings you to the city, sir?”
“I have an appointment with the Garter on some matters of heraldry.”
“Of course! I should not keep you. Good day, my lord. So good to see you,” she added, cheeks pink. As her glance flickered away, Dare sensed unease behind her light tone and smile. Was she unhappy to see him, then? Or did something else trouble her?
As she ducked back into the room, Dare saw a workroom, tables scattered with papers, ink pots, pens, and brushes. He had been curious to see the herald artists at work today, and now he was determined.
He paused, frowning. When he’d last met with Sir Archibald Gordon, the man had repeated his wish that Dare look in on his daughter while in London. He had mentioned only that she was doing some artwork, but Dare recalled Gordon’s earlier remark about herald artistry. Of course, he thought. Some arrangement had been made for her to dabble in art here while she planned her wedding.
He pushed the thought away as he followed the guard along a hallway hung with rows of colorful shields and framed paintings of coats of arms. Ushered into the office of the Garter King of Arms, the head of Britain’s heraldry center, he waited in an elegant room filled with a long, polished table and crammed bookcases. A tall window showed a view of buildings, rising chimney smoke, and carriages rolling past like low dark clouds.
“Lord Lyon, good of you to come!” A portly gentleman with dark, balding hair entered the room, hand extended. “George Naylor, Clarenceaux King of Arms,” he said. “Acting Garter for the moment. Welcome.”
“Thank you, sir. Acting Garter, interesting. I serve as interim Lord Lyon.”
“We may be temporary, but we are both equally dedicated to the work.” Naylor smiled. “What a handsome outfit. My wife adores Highland dress and laments that I have no Scotch blood to justify wearing it. I must admire a man who can wear a bright skirt and yet look masculine.” He laughed.
“It is a comfortable garment,” Dare admitted. “I came here a few years ago as Lord Kinnoull’s deputy. He is my uncle,” he added. “He is traveling on the Continent for a year or more, so the government named me interim. I began as a solicitor in the Lyon Court a few years ago to advise on legal matters.”
