To do otherwise would bring attention. The footman at the door heard every word and saw everything. No doubt other servants stood out of sight but would witness her actions. They knew the gossip—her status and her situation with the rest of her family. And good, loyal servants of the marquess or not, they talked.
“I thank you, Sir Iain.”
Clare walked at his side as he shortened his longer strides to fit hers. Once through the door, he let her hand free but kept his other one under her elbow. Through several layers of gloves and the fabric of her sleeve and pelisse, the heat of his touch warmed her skin. He did not guide or support her now—he simply touched her.
“Clare!”
Her sister stood in the expansive foyer at her husband’s side, smiling and motioning to Clare to come to her. If her voice was raised a bit too loudly, her husband never reacted. The Marquess of Nairn unreservedly loved Caro and never tried to change her sometimes lively manner of talking or behaving. Clare watched as her sister’s gaze slid over to the man at Clare’s side before meeting Clare’s once again. She could see the question waiting there in her sister’s ever-inquisitive stare.
There was a possessiveness in the way Sir Iain kept his hand in place under her elbow, even as she walked away from him to her sister. He kept pace until they stood before their hosts. She had no choice but to introduce him to—
“Buchanan! I am glad you accepted my invitation,” her brother-in-law said, clapping the man on his shoulder.
“Nairn.” Sir Iain bowed his head for a scant moment. He was closely enough known by the marquess to address him so? “I could not refuse when it promises to be a delicious meal among such pleasant company.”
They were acquainted? Caro’s expression said quite clearly that she had never met the man.
“My dear, may I introduce Sir Iain Buchanan?” James drew Caro’s attention to their guest. “Sir Iain, my wife, Lady Nairn.”
“Sir Iain, welcome to our gathering,” Caro said as Sir Iain bowed over her hand. Only then did Clare realize the warmth of his hand was gone from her arm.
“Lady Nairn, thank you for including me this evening,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth as he spoke to her sister. Not the threatening tones of their own conversation, but a masculine one. When he laughed at something her sister said, Clare felt her blood race and the heat of a blush rise in her cheeks. “I can absolutely see the resemblance, my lady.”
Clare blinked several times, realizing her thoughts had drifted and she’d not paid heed to the topic under discussion.
“And how do you know each other, Sir Iain?”
“We do not,” Clare blurted out, taking a step away from him and shaking her head.
“To my regret, we have only met once before arriving at the same time here, my lady. And it was a brief one at that, as I mistook her—” Clare drew in a gasp. Would he reveal his own rude behavior now? “For someone else,” he finished. What game did he play here?
“Well, I am glad for both of you accepting my invitation,” Caro said.
“My dear, if you and Lady Clare do not mind, I would speak to Sir Iain on a matter before we go in for dinner?”
Caro agreed quickly, but Clare knew the truth—her sister wanted to interrogate her about the truth of what had happened between Sir Iain and her. After the men excused themselves and walked to a private corner for their discussion, Caro grabbed her hand and led her to sit on one of the couches nearby. Since they awaited the last guests, Clare could not hope for help to avoid this so she spoke first.
“He wanted to buy some of Jonathan’s property in the Leith docks and arrived at the school to plead his case.”
“Pleading,” Caro said. Then leaning in closer, she lowered her voice. “I would not mind seeing that man plead for something he wanted.” Clare blinked, realizing her sister’s innuendo. “Well, come now, be honest, Sister. He is one of the most attractive men we’ve ever met.”
“Caro!” She had no idea her sister even noticed other men. The deep love between Caro and Nairn was quite public ever since the marquess had made his declaration at a ball in the Assembly Rooms. Caro would never...
“Oh, Clare! There is no question of my love and faithfulness to Nairn, but a woman has eyes and he certainly is a man to see.” Caro released her hand and leaned away. “There is something very primal, almost intoxicating, about him.”
Clare couldn’t believe her sister was reacting as she had to his completely overwhelming presence. And his appearance. If she was being honest with herself, Clare understood her sister’s response having lost her wits and words when the man directed his attention at her. And somehow, the masculine attractiveness was not diminished even by the bruising under his eye or the cut healing on the edge of his mouth took away from it. That purplish-green area that spread across the angle of his cheek was new. As was that gash still evident on his lower lip.
“Clare?” Caro touched her hand, gaining her attention. “Are you concerned? Worried about something?” Clare shook herself free of thoughts of his face.
“Nay.” The frown on Caro’s brow deepened. “Truly, nothing. But why is he here? Why did you not tell me he was coming?”
“Nairn asked if he could invite a new business associate since this is an informal gathering. Should I have refused him?”
“As if you could refuse him anything!”
Clare let out a very ungenteel snort. A pang of longing shot through her and she tamped down the very inappropriate jealousy that burned her stomach. Silence surrounded them and Clare welcomed it and dreaded its discomfort.
“Forgive me, Caro.” Clare let out a sigh. “I find your expressions of affection for each other adorable.”
