Page 12 of The Nabob's Designing Daughter
Edme stepped back, her sharp chin shot up, and she tore her gaze from the tall, elegant man. “Come, Ann. Take his lordship’s arm.”
His lips quirked and he extended both hands. “I have two arms, Miss Beecham.”
Edme’s mouth opened in a look of wonder, and Ann sucked in a breath. So much for her cousin’s observations on Lord Cottingwith’s dourness.
Cupid was surely hiding among the bare vines climbing the stable walls. She swallowed a laugh and moved to Cottingwith’s other side. “How very kind of you, my lord. There are dangerous mud puddles ahead, and we shall be happy for your escort, shall we not, Edme?”
They stepped out and spoke at length about the weather. The sky lightened enough to reveal clouds hiding the tops of the Grampian Mountains. Her second winter in the Highlands had been mild so far, but that would change.
Even a mild winter would be a hard season for those without proper shelter and fuel. While her father tried to keep her indoors, protected from visions of poverty, and hardship and of course, the weather, she found the cold invigorating, as well as the challenge of escaping her golden cage to visit the neighbors, high and low. The only neighbor she’d never met was Baron Darleton. She’d met his tenants though, and delivered them help whenever her father’s back was turned.
Dodging puddles, they walked on, Lord Cottingwith’s good manners carrying the conversation. With the nobleman’s gaze fixed on the path ahead, Edme relaxed and joined in, blessedly leaving Ann to her thoughts.
Perhaps Edme could make a match. Her cousin’s dowry was respectable.
Coming around the bend she saw a dark figure approaching and her heart jolted into a gallop.
A MARQUESS ARRIVES
“Good morning,” Edme called.
Errol’s head shot up and his eyes widened. His gaze hopped over Edme, Lord Cottingwith, herself, and stuttered on her hand curved over his lordship’s arm. Then he jerked his attention away and focused on Edme.
The scene had her flushed and dizzy. Had Mr. Henderson arrived?
Lord Cottingwith wished him a good morning, and Errol rumbled a general greeting.
Edme removed her hand and halted. “Brrr,” she said, shivering. “I’m suddenly feeling chilled. Lord Cottingwith, will you escort me back to the Castle?”
Errol stepped forward. “I’m going that way, Edme. Allow me.”
“No, Errol. I spent the entire day with you in the carriage yesterday, and you said not two words to me. His lordship has at least deigned to converse with me.” She sent him a sly smile. “You must converse with Ann.”
Errol gave them a stiff smile.
The old Errol, the one Ann had watched from a distance, would have laughed heartily at Edme’s impertinence and turned the jab into a joke.
Edme smiled up at her escort and reached again for his arm. “Lord Cottingwith?”
The earl glanced at Ann, his lips twitching. He wasn’t humorless, and he didn’t mind her cousin’s forthright talk.
“For certain, you must take Edme back, my lord,” Ann said.
Cottingwith bowed and placed his hand over Edme’s. “Dr. Robillard, it appears we have our orders. I hope to see you at breakfast.”
Errol watched them depart and turned his gaze back to her, his expression unreadable.
Feeling suddenly shy, she inhaled enough air to slow her pounding heart and found her voice. “Errol,” she said. “I suppose we are trapped.”
Trapped?
He heard the tremor in that last declaration. Why the devil should she be unsettled? Had he been that much of an ass?
He supposed he had. It was all a matter of that day in the garden when she’d landed atop him and he’d almost kissed her.
Oh hades, he had kissed her. He’d left the Beecham residence that night shaking himself for the sudden impulse that had made him do it. Even as a lad working at his father’s inn, as soon as his voice changed and he sprouted whiskers, women had been drawn to him. He’d learned how to be friendly whilst avoiding entanglements. And Ann… well, until that day he’d never noticed that she’d become a woman. He hadn’t wanted to write to her because he didn’t want to encourage her… or maybe himself. A desirable woman who shared his keen interest in healing might distract him, and he wouldn’t marry until he’d made his fortune.
“What shall we talk about?” she asked in a shaky voice.
