Page 51 of Lyon of Scotland
“A few students and Mr. Baird, who your father left in charge of the studio in his absence. Eight young men are working in the downstairs studio and in the garret as well. Four are staying in the house, and two lads with some carpentry skills are making some renovations up in the garret. It is quite noisy at times, but they have made progress.”
“It has been very busy here, then! Papa will be pleased. Have you had a letter from him lately? I have not heard from him in weeks.” She smiled even as she twisted her fingers. Dare wanted to reach out a calming hand, but stood apart, patient, leaning a shoulder against the wall. This was not easy for her, he knew, and hoped his presence helped.
“I should go to my room to—oh, Mrs. Pringle!” Hannah turned at the sound of footsteps. Dare straightened away from the wall as the tall, statuesque, ginger-haired housekeeper came toward them. He remembered meeting her before, and quite enjoyed her unique air of competence and quirkiness. Several years younger than her husband, Marian Pringle had been an artist’s model, so Dare had heard. She was rumored to have modeled for Sir Archibald in their younger years.
Now her bright smile and widespread arms enveloped Hannah in a warm embrace. In previous visits here, Dare had learned that Marian Pringle, a cousin of the family, had become their housekeeper years ago, providing kind support for Sir Archibald’s motherless daughters. She was more than a housekeeper in that sense.
Now she smiled at Dare. “Lord Strathburn, what a surprise to see you both! We had no idea Miss Hannah was coming home. Thank you for escorting her safely.”
“We left London in a bit of a rush, with no time to send word,” Hannah said. “Our trip by steamer took just two days.”
“Steamships travel so quickly now. Did your maid come with you?
Silence. There was the opening. Dare held his breath.
“Flora stayed with Georgina in London.” Hannah lifted her chin. “I traveled with Lord Strathburn and a friend, Lord Linhope, a physician. Mrs. Pringle. Mr. Pringle. We must tell you something.” She paused, glanced at Dare. “In London, we, ah—”
Watching, Dare felt his gaze soften, felt his heart warm to her. He felt anxious on her behalf, and proud, and more. Dear God, he thought, this was what love was like.
The moment slowed.Love.He leaned a shoulder to the wall again, needing that support, astonished. He had thought about this, but now the feeling struck him almost physically, with astonishing force and truth. He loved Hannah Gordon. It had begun in this very house, in the parlor down the hall, years ago.
He desperately wanted her, wanted this marriage, wanted to be part of this family. The feeling had been evolving for a while. Now he knew for certain how deep it was, how strong it could be as it continued to grow.
“We—” Hannah said again, and glanced up at him.
“Aye, what is it?” Marian Pringle looked from one to the other.
“Lord Strathburn and I were married in London,” Hannah blurted.
Silence. Then Marian Pringle cried out and clapped her hands, and even Pringle, usually unexpressive, smiled in surprise. As Mrs. Pringle hugged Hannah, Pringle reached out a hand to Dare.
“If I may, sir,” Pringle said, apologizing for forwardness.
“Of course,” Dare murmured.
“Married!” the housekeeper said. “When—oh, my dear, your father will be so pleased. He admires Lord Strathburn—Lord Lyon, I should say.”
“Strathburn will do nicely, madam,” he murmured. “And thank you.”
“I will write to Papa. It happened so fast.” Hannah gave a tremulous smile. “Though now I know that Lord Strathburn…had this in mind for a while.”
“I did,” he affirmed. Relying on that story was far easier than the truth of what had happened in England. “The idea has been in my mind for a while. I was honored that she accepted.”
“It was in my mind too,” she said. “We have known each other for a while, after all.” The Pringles—and Hannah’s family—would understand that.
“We knew that Mr. Whitworth broke off the engagement,” Marian Pringle said. “We expected you home sooner, but we knew nothing of this. Such good news!”
“Whitworth left me brokenhearted, but it was all for the best. I was mistaken, I see that now. But all is well now, aye?” She glanced at Dare. He nodded.
“A surprise, but a very good one, Miss Hannah,” Pringle said, recovering his composure. “Lady Strathburn now, is it? Excellent. Sir Archibald will not return for a while yet. Perhaps a letter could reach him. We have his itinerary. They are in Aberdeenshire, I believe. Is it so, my dear?” He glanced at his wife.
“Aye, but traveling again soon. It is unlikely a letter would reach them.”
“If you have any word, please let me know,” Hannah said.
“Of course! Will you both stay here?” the housekeeper asked.
“I thought—it would be appropriate to live in Strathburn’s home now,” Hannah said. “It is just on Northumberland Street. Not far.”
