“You were at the meeting?” she asked.
The footman served her next and before he could answer, Puggles announced the course... in English! After he’d moved back to the edge of the room, Iain nodded at her.
“Your house your rules, my lord?” He nodded as she noticed Nairn’s and Caro’s inquisitive glances. “How long do you think it will be tolerated?”
“Well, at least until I learn some French,” he said. He took a mouthful of the red wine before he asked again. “So you did not send someone to take part in the discussions?”
The silence was noticeable as Nairn and Caro looked around at everything in the room except her. They knew it was not a topic she wished to discuss.
“I did not.”
“They are talking about developing trade schools to train young men and women in employable skills.”
Her throat tightened and tears threatened as she heard her dream being spoken of yet without her being involved. She refused to fall apart now. Refused to be baited when he had much to answer for yet.
“My lord, may we speak of other topics? I fear Lady Nairn will fall asleep by the second course if we indulge in such matters as business and education.” There. All her years of training in manners and polite behavior did come back to her when needed.
“I do not mind—” Caro began to speak, and Clare shook her head.
“Does this house have a garden, my lord?” she asked, diverting the conversation. And she just stared at him until she saw the moment he capitulated.
“It does, Lady Clare.” Placing his spoon in the empty bowl, he waited for the footman to remove it. “Perhaps I can entice you to return in the daytime to see it. Puggles has employed three gardeners and promises it will be the jewel of Edinburgh for the spring blooms.”
He was humoring her, at least she thought so until he declared war with his next bit of conversation.
“Have you heard, Lady Nairn, of the new style of service that is sweeping France and is gaining ground even in the great houses of London?”
Caro looked as though she been caught between two hunters, each aiming their bows at the other. Her gaze shifted from Clare to Iain and back, unable to decide if she should jump in or take cover. “I have heard of it, my lord, but am not familiar enough to comment on it.”
A smile teased the edges of his mouth. A mouth and lips she knew well, and she had to shake herself free of the bewitchment that threatened if she continued to stare at him.
“Lady Nairn, it is called dininga la Russeand it is said that it will replaceservice à la françaisesociety dinners forever.”
All Clare could do was laugh at his antics, for they were directed at her and planned as thoroughly as Wellington’s campaigns.
“Peace, my lord.” She held her hand up between them. “Peace.” Caro and Nairn gaped in open curiosity at the exchange between Clare and Iain. She had so much to explain to them and she wanted the truth from him. What had his words meant when he claimed his innocence? “All is well, Caro.”
“Will you receive me on the morrow and allow me to explain?” he asked her, a seriousness shone from his blue eyes she’d not seen before.
“I think you should, Clare,” Nairn said softly. Caro reached over and covered her husband’s hand. “I suspect there is more to this than you might be aware.” Iain looked surprised by both Nairn’s speaking up and by whatever it seemed that Nairn was aware of.
“I could—” Caro started.
“Nay. Thank you, but nay,” Clare replied. “Fine, Lord Ardgour, you may call on me.”
The rest of the meal concluded with no further French pronunciations and a semblance of polite conversation with Nairn playing the moderator to keep things going. And her brother-by-marriage somehow managed to keep her sister from asking all manner of questions on the ride home after dinner.
In the morning, she had David empty her day of any appointments, though lately she had had very few, and she waited for his arrival at noon as he’d said.
After telling Samantha about the visitor who would arrive in a few hours, she’d left almost immediately afterwards, claiming errands that needed to be run. The wink she’d given Clare as she departed the house reassured her of Samantha’s ongoing support. She’d been a huge help with the school over the last several months and even though Clare understood there was an additional reason for her increasing presence there, she appreciated her friend’s efforts. Clare had begun considering asking Samantha to take over the school as a full-time commitment from her.
Then, just a few minutes prior to noon, there was a knock at the door and she heard him enter at Poogan’s invitation. Standing as the door to her office opened, she took in a slow breath, trying to calm her heart that always raced whenever he was near.
Chapter Twenty-One
In all ofhis life, Iain had never been nervous when walking into a meeting or gathering of any kind. Not facing kings—of England or of the criminal element, and not facing friend or foe. But walking into Clare’s office, understanding the importance of every word he would say, made his insides threaten to rebel.
His mouth went dry, his hands began to sweat inside the fine leather gloves he wore, and his clothes felt too tight and too hot with each step he took. Iain always prepared for a meeting or when they were acquiring businesses or properties by reading everything, every report, every paper, every bit of gossip collected until he could repeat it from memory.
