One step at a time, she told herself. One step at a time will win this race. She took her bronze bonnet and placed it over her curls, tying a saucy bow to one side. Feeling much cheered, she marched out of her room for the field of battle.
In the comfort of the back terrace, Georgiana sat in one of the wide, padded chairs that the footmen had placed outdoors, a light blanket across her lap, the canopy of trees protecting her from the unflattering light of day. Across the lawn Miss Hurst, radiantly lovely in a bronze gown trimmed with blue ribbons, dealt with the twin menaces of Lords Falkland and Dervishton.
As Georgiana watched, Caitlyn laughed at something one of the men had said, the merry sound rolling across the lawn.
Alexander had been speaking to Diane, acting politely interested in her rather vicious dog, but at the sound of Caitlyn’s laughter he looked up. The sun slanted across his face, turning his skin a golden shade as he watched Caitlyn walk in the sunshine flanked by the two fashionably dressed lords.
Georgiana narrowly watched Alexander. His expression never changed, and while she couldn’t detect the slightest tendency toward admiration, she couldn’t help but notice the intensity of that guarded stare.
She clamped her teeth together, fighting off the most unladylike desire to claw Miss Hurst’s too pert face. In the past week Alexander had grown more and more distant from Georgiana, while he seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time with Caitlyn Hurst. And when he wasn’t with Caitlyn, he was watching her.
Georgiana waited for Diane to finish explaining how her little dog could only eat finely ground liver and eggs before she interjected smoothly, “Lady Kinloss, I don’t believe Alexander is interested in poor Muffin’s diet woes.”
“Oh, but I am.” To Georgiana’s surprise, Alexander sank to his haunches as if to examine the small dog more closely.
Muffin bared his crooked, jagged teeth, his hair bristling on his rounded back, his eyes bulging.
Alexander’s gaze narrowed. “He looks as if he’s about to have a fit.”
“Oh, no! He’s just very protective,” Lady Kinloss said proudly.
“Of what?”
“Of me!”
“Nonsense.” Georgiana wished they’d stop talking about the damned dog. “He growls just as much when someone tries to take his ball or if someone has on a scarf or something that scares him or—”
“Really, Georgiana!” Diane’s smile appeared glued in place. “Muffin doesn’t growl nearly as loudly when protecting his ball as he does when he’s protecting me.”
Georgiana lifted her brows and shrugged.
Alexander stared at the dog a few more moments, but the dog continued its nervous growl. Slowly, Alexander straightened back up. “Does your dog bite?”
“Oh, no!” Diane said. “Well, except the stableboy and Lady Charley’s nephew.”
“And Lord Burgdorf,” Georgina added, so bored she could scream, “and Mr. Melton and Sir Roland—don’t forget them. Especially Sir Roland, who had to have stitches.”
Alexander winced. “Good God!”
“Sir Roland deserved it,” Diane sniffed, an air of pride in her voice. “Muffin is a very good judge of character.”
Alexander crossed his arms, almost glaring down at the dog with its ridiculous tufts of hair and an equally ridiculous bow between his ears. “I’m surprised no one’s yet shot him.”
As if aware that his name was being taken in vain, Muffin bared his teeth.
Georgiana laughed. “You may be interested in Muffin, but he is not interested in you.”
Alexander didn’t look amused. “Lady Kinloss, are there any people he likes besides you?”
“No.” She shrugged, her gaze drifting to the lawn billiards game. “He sleeps upon my bed at night and refuses to let any of my maids touch him.”
“Lord Kinloss must love him, then,” Alexander said under his breath.
“Pardon?”
He waved his hand. “Nothing. I was just thinking aloud.”
Another peal of laughter arose from the lawn billiards game, this time by Miss Ogilvie, who’d just knocked the Earl of Caithness’s ball into Lord Dervishton’s. The two men were mock-sword-fighting with their sticks and generally making fools of themselves.
Georgiana shifted restlessly. “Poor Miss Hurst will freckle if she continues to stay outside in the sun as she’s done today.”
Diane sniffed. “Miss Hurst’s manners are deplorable.” With a glance at Georgiana, Diane turned to Alexander. “MacLean, don’t you agree that Miss Hurst has a sad tendency toward hoydenish behavior?”
“Without question,” he replied with gratifying quickness.
Georgiana couldn’t hide a small smile. That was promising. Several times in the last few days she’d thought she’d detected the faintest hint of genuine interest in MacLean’s demeanor. It was so difficult to tell; MacLean was as closed as an oyster. She would have to watch him very, very closely.
She caught Diane’s questioning gaze and nodded.
Diane’s sharp face seemed to grow even more pointed. “My dear Georgiana, I don’t know why you invited such a common girl to join our house party. She doesn’t fit in at all.”
Alexander shrugged. “She seems to have found her place. Just ask Dervishton or Falkland.”
Diane tittered. “I doubt their intentions are all they should be, though I do wish Miss Hurst would stop encouraging them. She is making a fool of herself.”
Alexander’s brows lowered. “She’s not encouraging anyone. On the contrary, she is being pursued relentlessly, and Dervishton should count himself fortunate that Miss Hurst doesn’t have a male relative on hand who might teach him a lesson in civility.”
Good God, he felt protective of the chit! Georgiana’s hands bit into the soft-cushioned arms of her chair. What’d happened to the deadly hate he’d once professed?
Her instincts had been correct; he was interested in the Hurst girl. Georgiana wanted to screech and yell, but one did not bring a hammer to a fight with a fencer; if she did so, MacLean would simply leave. She had to find a way to disengage him from the girl’s side, to show him the obvious flaws in her character, while letting him think he was the one making the decision.
Georgiana took a calming breath and managed to say in a fairly languid tone, “It’s good that the youngsters have found a game to play.”
MacLean’s faint smile disappeared. “Youngsters?”
“Dervishton and Falkland are both a good ten years younger than us, and Miss Hurst is—oh, I don’t remember her age. She acts enough like a child that I think of her as one.”
Diane glanced slyly at Alexander. “Miss Hurst and Miss Ogilvie are very young, indeed. Why, I was just saying that very thing to his grace at breakfast this morning. At thirty, I feel like I’m in a nursery whenever they’re about, giggling and carrying on like two schoolgirls.”
“Exactly,” Georgiana purred. “I’m sure they think of us as positive antidotes.”
“Lord MacLean, considering you are nine years older than I am, you must feel especially ancient around them!”
Alexander didn’t answer as he watched the game, his brows lowered, his arms now crossed over his chest.
Ah! Georgiana thought. So that hurts, does it? She caught Diane’s gaze and flicked her fingers toward the terrace door.
Diane scooped up her dog. “Here you go, Muffin. Your Grace, if you will forgive me, I see Mrs. Pruitt. My maid sent my new gown to be ironed, and I wish to make certain it will be ready in time for dinner.” Diane disappeared inside with her dog tucked under one arm.
Georgiana forced her hands to relax their grip on the arms of the chair. The wind had lifted and it ruffled MacLean’s black hair across his forehead. Finally they were alone, and it brought to mind other times they’d been alone—truly alone. She yearned for those moments, when his touch had marked her as his.
She loved him, yet Alexander didn’t seem to notice. Since she’d been rescued from her wretched childhood, s
he’d been given everything she’d ever wanted, and now she wanted Alexander MacLean to be hers—exclusively, forever.
His gaze was riveted on the tableau on the lawn, his profile in bold relief against the sun-drenched horizon. Georgiana stared greedily, aching for his touch.
A faint smile touched his lips, his gaze warming slightly. Georgiana froze. She’d never seen such an expression on his face. Was it . . . tenderness?
She followed his gaze across the lawn and her heart sank. The Hurst girl had knocked Dervishton’s ball into a shrub and she was laughing heartily, the sun caressing her golden hair, the wind playing with her bronze and blue skirts. Dervishton was on his way to retrieve his ball and was holding the cue stick in a mock-threatening manner.
Georgiana’s gaze narrowed. “They make a lovely couple, don’t they?”
The smile faded from Alexander’s face. “Couple?”
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t have used that word; Dervishton is just amusing himself. He’s very determined to get under those skirts, and I daresay he’ll be successful.”
Alexander’s gaze turned cool. “Careful, my dear. Your origins are showing.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
“It’s very vulgar of you to make such a statement.” His voice was low, soft, almost a purr. “But then you know that, don’t you, Georgiana? Roxburge was very careful to teach you all of society’s rules, wasn’t he?”
Georgiana’s jaw tightened and she asked in an acid tone, “What’s happened to your plan for Hurst, Alexander? Why don’t you just ruin her and be done?”
“I explained that. I want to savor this moment.”
And her, too? “I think you’re falling under her spell.”
He turned slowly, his green eyes ablaze. He looked hard and masculine, and her heart thudded against her throat. “I’m not under anyone’s spell, including yours.”
Georgiana’s cheeks grew hot. She should quit—she knew she should, but she couldn’t. As if she were outside of her own body, she heard herself say, “When she first arrived, you were determined to have revenge, but something has changed. Last night at dinner, you actually came to her rescue when Diane made a perfectly innocuous comment about her behavior.”
“Lady Kinloss’s teeth are as sharp as her dog’s and you know perfectly well that what she said was not innocuous.”
Georgiana couldn’t remember the exact comment Diane had made, but she could remember Alexander’s sudden blazing look of contempt as he put an abrupt end to Diane’s attempt at humor at the Hurst chit’s expense. “Alexander, your plans have changed.” She leaned forward. “Admit it.”
“My plans haven’t changed.”
“You still intend to see to the chit’s ruin?”
His dark gaze moved back to the tableau on the lawn. “Eventually, yes. But first . . .” He smiled, a faintly wolfish air to him. “First I have a few tasks to complete.”
What did he mean by that? Georgiana wished she dared ask.
His gaze wandered back to the lawn billiards game. “Everything is going well. You’ll see soon enough. Caitlyn has proven to be a more worthy opponent than I expected.”
His unmistakable admiration raked over Georgiana’s sensibilities. Damn it, the girl is more intelligent than I thought. She’s playing him, and he, blinded by her seeming innocence, is falling for it like a fool. “You’re allowing this—this nobody to get the best of you. Ruin her and be done with it.”
MacLean stiffened, and in the distance a low roil of thunder echoed over the clear, sunny horizon.
The billiards players paused, all of them looking toward the surprising noise except Caitlyn, who turned instead toward the terrace.
Alexander strode toward Georgiana and glared down at her. “I will say this one time only: I will handle this matter as I see fit. When I decide the time has come to ruin Caitlyn Hurst, not even the devil will be able to stop me. But until that time comes, you will leave this affair alone and keep your opinions to yourself. Do you understand?”
Because she had to, Georgiana nodded. With both relief and a sense of aching loss, she watched him turn away from her and go to the edge of the terrace. Georgiana blinked back tears. By God, if I can’t have you, no one will.
She’d ruin the girl if MacLean wouldn’t. It would take so little. Look at her out there, shamelessly flirting, playing Dervishton against Falkland as if she really were someone.
Alexander’s gaze was locked on the girl now, watching as the wind got the better of her bonnet and sent it tumbling across the green lawn. Instantly every man in the game dropped his cue stick and ran after it. Caitlyn laughed as Falkland, Dervishton, and Caithness jostled one another, fighting for the right to catch the bonnet and return it to its rightful owner.
Miss Ogilvie now came up and slipped an arm about Caitlyn’s waist, and the two stood, arm in arm, laughing at the men’s display of gallantry.
Georgiana’s stomach tightened in disgust. So the little fool enjoys being the center of attention, does she? We’ll see about that!
Georgiana noted how Alexander’s mouth thinned when Dervishton returned triumphant. He presented the bonnet ceremoniously. When Caitlyn placed the hat upon her head, he offered—and was allowed—to tie the bow beneath her chin.
“If you’ll pardon me, Georgiana, I’ll leave you to enjoy your terrace in peace,” Alexander said.
Georgiana found it difficult to swallow. “Perhaps we should take a ride and enjoy the day. If you’d like, I can change into my habit and—”
“No, thank you.” He smiled, a cool glint in his eyes. “I think perhaps I may play some lawn billiards. I haven’t done so since I was a child.”
He bowed, turned, and strode off the terrace. Moments later, he joined the group on the lawn.
Georgiana had seen more than enough. She tossed aside her blanket and stormed inside, taking out her wrath on the first servant she saw.
The time had come for her to take matters into her own hands. And Caitlyn Hurst didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter 15
Do wha’ ye say ye will, and the world will be kinder to ye than no’.
OLD WOMAN NORA FROM LOCH LOMOND TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD EVENING
Caitlyn went to dinner that night distracted by a number of things—her upcoming challenge, certainly, but also the thought of Alexander MacLean.
He’d surprised her by joining their lawn billiards game. She’d been winning until MacLean showed up and, taking the black cue stick, showed them all how the game was supposed to be played. With deadly precision he passed by her and Sally and spent the remainder of the game repeatedly knocking Dervishton’s and Falkland’s balls into the shrubbery until both men protested heartily. Their antics had been quite amusing, and Caitlyn didn’t know when she’d laughed so hard. She’d seen a side of MacLean she’d never thought to see. While she couldn’t really imagine him being playful, he’d gleamed with a dark sense of humor that had even Sally watching him with admiring eyes.
The other members hadn’t been so fortunate. By the end of the game, Dervishton had been thrown into a sulk, while Falkland lodged a formal protest with Caithness, who, having had his ball knocked into a stream, had finally offered himself as game official.
Caitlyn’s original reason for playing had been to garner information from Dervishton about Lord Dingwall’s current situation. She quickly discovered that the young lord had none, though; his family had been out of the countryside for too long to be of any use. Though disappointed, she hadn’t allowed that to spoil her enjoyment of the afternoon.
The only thing that had threatened her enjoyment had been the sight of MacLean watching from the terrace, the duchess reclining on a chair beside him. Though Caitlyn could see little of the duchess’s expressions, she had the uneasy feeling she was being mocked. Lately, it seemed the duchess couldn’t talk without hinting that Caitlyn was inadequate in some way. Worse, the older woman was becoming more and more possessive
of MacLean.
Now, finally ready to go down to dinner, Caitlyn paused at the foot of the grand staircase and adjusted her long gloves, glancing in the large mirrors that flanked the foyer to make sure that her white-and-rose silk gown hung just right. The duchess might mock many things, but she couldn’t say a word about Caitlyn’s wardrobe.
A noise at the top of the step caught Caitlyn’s attention, and she turned to find the Marquis of Treymont and his lovely wife coming down the stairs. Her red hair swept into a pile of graceful ringlets on her head, Honoria smiled as she reached the foyer. “Miss Hurst! Good evening.”
Caitlyn curtsied. “My lady. My lord.”
“I see you caught a bit of sun today,” Treymont said.
Caitlyn smiled ruefully. “I’ll never be fashionably pale, as I can’t seem to stay out of the sunshine.”
Honoria grimaced. “I’m the same way, though I burn like a lobster. I just cannot give up my rides.”
“You both look beautiful.” The marquis’s smile glinted, his blue eyes striking against his dark hair.
Caitlyn chuckled. “Very well said, my lord.”
“Absolutely brilliant,” Honoria agreed, looking at her husband with a loving, laughing gaze. “I’m impressed.”
“You should be,” he answered promptly. “Miss Hurst, how was lawn billiards? We were going to join you but decided to instead take a ride to the loch in this fine weather.”
“You missed quite a match!”
“Did everyone play?”
“Oh, no. Lady Elizabeth had a headache, Lord Dalfour was determined to take a nap, and Lord Roxburge was indisposed—”
“Which means he was sleeping in his favorite chair in the library,” Treymont said with a smile.
“Exactly. Lady Kinloss is unimpressed in general, so she stayed away, as did her grace.”
“Her grace.” Honoria sniffed.