Page 95 of Never Tempt a Scot
Lydia stoodin one of the assembly rooms of Bath, watching the couples twirl in a lovely pattern. Lysandra was talking beside her, but the words floated past Lydia rather than through her. Since she’d left Scotland, she hadn’t been herself. She had been more subdued, listless, and she’d had quite a bit of difficulty focusing on what people said to her. Her mind was far away, and her heart was with it.
Lysandra gently nudged her elbow. “Lydia? Are you all right?”
“What? Oh yes, I’m sorry,” Lydia apologized. It had been such a whirlwind returning to Bath and meeting the rest of the Russell family so they could hear the news of the hasty marriage uniting the Russells and the Hunts. But the news had been well received by the Russell brood, even if they had been quite surprised at it. She had become a sister to all the Russells overnight, as had Portia. Jane had come up with a clever lie to cover any scandal, and not one word was breathed of Lydia’s sudden disappearance from Bath.
Portia had taken the news well, but something was bothering her, and she would not confide to Lydia what it was. She’d simply withdrawn from everything and everyone. Everyone except Isla. The orphan had taken to Portia in a way that had surprised everyone. She’d crawled into Portia’s lap and handed her doll to Portia to try to make her feel better, and the two had quickly bonded.
Even now, much to Lydia’s continued amazement, Portia had passed on the chance to dance and meet eligible men. She had remained at home, caring for Isla so the child would not be lonely.
Lydia’s life had change drastically since returning from Scotland. Her father was no longer so accommodating and tolerant with Portia, and Lydia, who had been so often overlooked, was now consulted frequently by her doting stepmother. It was going to take some getting used to. She rather felt like Cinderella. But all the good changes in her life didn’t make a difference when she thought of Brodie and how brokenhearted she was. Fanny had settled in working as a lady’s maid for Portia and the two had struck up an unlikely friendship.
“Lydia,” Lysandra murmured. “You look very pale. Perhaps we should go home. I’ll tell Mama and Mr. Hunt.”
“Yes, perhaps that’s a good idea,” Lydia agreed. Lysandra left her alone to go seek out their parents, who were on the opposite end of the room.
The current dance ended, and Lydia watched the couples disperse. As they did, she looked across the room and, her heart jolted at the sight of a man in a dark-blue coat and tan breeches who was watching her. He was beautiful in a wild, untamed way. His dark hair was tousled and his gray-blue eyes were turbulent. Lydia dared not let her heart fill with hope again, yet she could not look away as he crossed the room toward her.
He stopped within arm’s reach and made an elegant bow.
“Miss Hunt, would you do me the honor of a dance? If you have any available?” Brodie spoke so gently, so earnestly, that she wasn’t quite sure it was him and not some kind of daydream.
“I .. .”
“I’d prefer a waltz, lass, to better hold you in my arms.”
Now she knew she had to be dreaming.
“A waltz?” she echoed as he took her wrist and examined her card. He made a soft tsking noise as he saw she had no dances yet claimed. He took the pencil attached to her card and wrote his name down on every line for every dance. Then he held her hands for everyone to see.
“Lydia, lass. I wish to claim every dance for the rest of our lives.” He stepped closer. “What do you say? Will you give me that honor?”
“Every dance for the rest of our lives?” Was this truly happening?
“I daresay the poor Scot is trying to propose,” a familiar voice said nearby.
Lydia spotted Rafe not too far away, watching them with amusement, a puckish smile hovering on his lips. She turned back to Brodie.
“Are you?” she asked, her entire body starting to tremble.
“Aye, lass. In my own way, I am.” He put an arm around her waist, and several gasps from nearby matronly ladies made Lydia’s face burn with mortification.
“Oi, you lot can stop your bloody gasping,” Rafe growled, making their turbans quiver.
“Well put, Mr. Lennox,” Jane said as she and Mr. Hunt approached them. Jane fixed the matrons with a withering glare. “Mr. Kincade and my stepdaughter have been secretly betrothed for a year. He’s merely reaffirming their pledge, aren’t you, Mr. Kincade?” Jane lied so smoothly that even Lydia believed her.
“I am,” Brodie agreed, and he met Lydia’s gaze. “What do you say? Have pity on a man who loves you fiercely. Tell me you’ll be my wife, my love, myeverything, lass.”
Lydia glanced hastily at her father, who did not look entirely pleased, but he also didn’t object. He gave her a small nod instead, while still scowling a little at Brodie.
“You truly love me?” she challenged Brodie, matching his quiet tone as another dance started up behind him.
“Aye, far too much to be wise. I love you blindly, madly.”
Lydia’s throat tightened as she tried to calm her racing heart. “When did you know?”
“That I loved you?”
She nodded.
