Gracie had been living with Edith and her dear friend Lavinia for only a few months when Lord Thorne appeared at their door. Lavinia and Gracie were Lady Thorne’s long-lost sisters. After her first husband’s death, Lady Thorne had traveled to London to search for them.
Edith’s attachment to Miss Gracie had formed quickly. She was exactly the type of girl Edith would want for a daughter, and since she was very unlikely to become a mother, she cherished her time with the girl.
“What tea do you prefer?” Mr. McTaggart asked.
She shook her head and chuckled softly. “I don’t really like tea, but I manage to choke it down to be polite.”
Why he cared to ask such insignificant things about her, she couldn’t understand. Only once had a man shown interest in her, and he had turned out to be a black-hearted scoundrel.
Experience suggested she should be wary of any man’s attention, yet common sense reminded her that not all men were like Jimmy Gibb.
Lord Thorne was a good man, and Lavinia’s benefactor was the most generous man Edith had ever met. When Lord St. Ambrose took Lavinia from the brothel and offered her protection, he agreed to support Edith as well, knowing it would make Lavinia happy.
The way Mr. McTaggart treated Lady Thorne, Gracie, and his kinswomen suggested he belonged to the same honorable ilk as these two gentlemen. His actions might be foolish and reckless, but his heart seemed pure.
Mr. McTaggart stood and extended his hand to help her up. “I’ll see you to the drawing room, then continue the search.”
She ignored his hand and returned to rummaging through the trunk before her. “I will stay until they are found, thank you very much.”
He answered with a grunt, this time lacking any hint of annoyance. “Suit yourself.”
When she reached the bottom of the trunk and found nothing but old clothes, Mr. McTaggart returned it to its place and retrieved another from a different stack. He knelt beside her as she lifted the lid.
“This one looks familiar,” he said. “I think this could be the one.”
Edith lifted a wool blanket and uncovered a tangle of skates. “How many are there?”
“Enough for everyone to have a spin around the pond,” Mr. McTaggart replied, “except for Mrs. Mason’s husband, of course.”
Mrs. Mason, Pearl, was another of Lady Thorne’s once-lost sisters. Approximately a year earlier, Pearl had answered an advertisement to become Mr. Mason’s nurse. The landowner lost his leg in a farming accident and required a caretaker. During his long convalescence, Pearl and Mr. Mason fell in love, and they had recently married.
“Pearl’s husband has been fitted with a prosthetic leg,” Edith said, “but I agree that skating is an unlikely activity for him. Perhaps I should speak with Gracie about choosing something everyone can enjoy.”
“A chair will do for the lad.” Mr. McTaggart took out a skate and ran his finger gingerly over the blade. “The men can take turns pushing him about so he won’t have to miss out on the festivities.”
Edith dropped the folded blanket in her lap and smiled. “I think I’ve been too harsh with you, Mr. McTaggart. You are much more considerate than first impressions suggest.”
His wide grin made her heart skip. “You mean for a blasted Scottish oaf?” He dropped the skate back in the trunk and retrieved the blanket from her lap. “You have a stray eyelash. Let me get it for you.”
Leaning close, he brushed the back of his finger across her cheek. She held her breath. If he tried to kiss her again, she wouldn’t have the willpower to resist.
“You’re a decent sort for a Sassenach, too,” he murmured. “Not to mention verra bonnie.”
Bonnie?
The air whooshed from her. His compliment hit her like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. Edith was far from pretty. Men rarely paid her much notice. Her nearly white blonde hair and spectacles were like a cloak, granting her both invisibility and a sense of security at the brothel. She had never been one of those women who drew in customers, which was why Madam Montgomery had allowed her to hide in the kitchen.
She sprang to her feet. “I should go. As you said, Lady Thorne is likely wondering where I am.”
Hurrying for the door, she didn’t look back. It didn’t matter what he thought of her abrupt departure. She wouldn’t risk her livelihood listening to false flattery. Not again.
Once upon a time, she had lived an honorable life and thrown it all away for a few sweetly whispered odes to her beauty. As a result, she had lost her seamstress position and been evicted from the boarding house.
Now, she was older and wiser, and she wouldn’t risk her position with Lady Thorne by believing Mr. McTaggart’s lies.
Chapter Three
As Fergus hauled the trunk of skates toward the storeroom in the servants’ quarters, he encountered his sister and a female cousin in the corridor.
