Page 73 of Taming the Heiress

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* * *

During the promenade, the crush around Lady Strathlin and her party was deep and crowded in the wide foyer of the theater. From his vantage point across the hall, Dougal could scarcely see the baroness. He hardly cared to come any closer.

Still and silent, he waited out the intermission in the company of his hosts at the Calton Hill address, Connor MacBain and his wife, Mary Faire, Dougal's cousin. While the MacBains chatted with acquaintances, Dougal stood as cold and stiff as the jasper column beside him, although he nodded and murmured greetings now and again with unerring politeness.

Once he saw her clearly, when the sea of gowned ladies and black-clad gentlemen parted for a moment. Her back was turned to his direction, and an opera cloak of dark blue velvet covered her from shoulder to hem, but he knew the golden waves of her hair, had pushed his fingers through that mass himself. Now it was wound and pinned with gewgaws and a spray of feathers and roses.

Then she turned her head, and he saw the lovely profile that was so achingly familiar to him. His heart nearly stopped. She was uncommonly beautiful, and he loved her still, wanted her so intensely that it hurt.

Once he had told Meg that he would never give up on what he most desired in life. After what had assailed him since he had come to Edinburgh, he felt betrayed, even uncharacteristically defeated. Persistence, just now, was a challenge.

Yet his nature demanded that he continue through sheer will and determination. Despite setbacks, somehow the lighthouse would be constructed, even if, as he had told Aedan, he had to build it himself, stone by stone, and fund it out of his own pocket.

Watching her now, as the crowd closed around her again and her golden head was once more hidden from his sight, he decided that he must persist in one other matter as well. That new goal sat heavy and bitter in his heart.

He intended to forget Meg MacNeill, though it might take him all his life to accomplish it.

* * *

The carriage slowly edged forward in a long line of gigs, hansom cabs, and coaches approaching Charlotte Square. Dougal leaned sideways to peer ahead through the side window. He could see the baroness's town house a little distance ahead. The block of houses, made to look like a single palatial facade, had been designed by the celebrated Robert Adam. A magnificent and enormous building roofed several town homes as one, with a row of grand doorways.

Under the light of lanterns held high by grooms, footmen in dark livery assisted ladies out of vehicles, while gentlemen emerged clothed in stark black and white attire, in contrast to the garden colors worn by the women.

"I do hope we are nearly there," Mary Faire said. With gloved hands, she smoothed the wide flounces of her gown of pink silk. "The concert was marvelous—Miss Lind is astonishing to hear—but I am ready to move about after being seated for so long."

"We shall soon be dancing, Cousin," Dougal said, smiling fondly. He knew Mary Faire loved dancing and music, although she was otherwise a serious sort, a trained nurse who assisted her husband in his practice. He greatly appreciated the hospitality that Mary Faire and Connor freely extended to him whenever he came to Edinburgh, and he was glad that they had decided to attend the baroness's soiree this evening.

At least he would be certain of two friendly faces, although he knew that they did not plan to stay long at Lady Strathlin's soiree, having another invitation to honor as well that evening. Miss Lind's concert had engendered several parties.

"Patience, my dear," Connor answered, while glancing out the window as Dougal had done. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

The vehicle lurched forward again. Dougal flexed his gloved fingers, then rested them calmly on his thighs. He felt cold and detached, had felt so for days. Miss Lind's soothing, entrancing music had affected him briefly, but he did not want mellowing. As soon as he had glimpsed Lady Strathlin among the concertgoers, he had felt chilling anger seep through him again. He welcomed it, for that hard, brittle shield around his heart would see him through any encounters with her this evening.

"The crush of people at the theater and outside of it, was astonishing," Connor said. "I've hardly seen such a thing, but for a few years ago, when the Nightingale also came to Edinburgh. I wondered if we would even get inside the theater through the crowds waiting in the street."

"I believe the place was even more crowded because Lady Strathlin had decided to attend," Mary Faire said. "There has been enough mystery around the baroness that people are curious for any chance to see her. They say she decided to give a soiree this evening because she is a great admirer of Miss Jenny Lind. Otherwise, I think we would hardly see her at all this season."

"With all the concert parties being held this evening, it seems Lady Strathlin is not the only one who admires Miss Lind," Connor said. "Though hers may be the only party that the singer actually attends."

"We were invited to three different parties, all held at the same time," Mary Faire explained to Dougal. "So we thought it best to attend two—Lady Strathlin's, of course, and one other, given by friends on Calton Hill, close to home."

"Ah. I've been meaning to ask," Dougal said, "if you know the baroness well."

"We met her once or twice at soirees and concerts," Connor answered. "And along with my associate, Dr. Lewes, I attended the wife of Sir Frederick Matheson, one of Lady Strathlin's banking associates. The woman had a chronic illness and became an increasing invalid until she died about a year ago. It was a very sad case. As I recall, Lady Strathlin insisted on paying all the medical bills. A very generous gesture."

Dougal frowned. "Indeed. I met recently with Sir Frederick, but I had no idea his wife had died. He never mentioned it." In fact, Dougal thought, he had mentioned that he shortly expected to become engaged to Lady Strathlin. "But I had the impression that he is not in dire need at all. Lady Strathlin's assistance in his expenses is... curious."

"She has a magnanimous nature for such a young woman," Mary Faire said. "She has modesty without arrogance."

"One might think so," Dougal said.

"After all, she inherited only six or seven years ago, when she was barely eighteen. The fortune had come to her somewhat earlier and was held in trust by the bank until she reached majority."

"Majority?" Dougal looked at her.

"Have you never heard of the Matheson Bank heiress?" she asked.

"I pay very little attention to the doings of society."