“Oh, Graeme’s sterling at annoying the Maxwell,” Connell assured her.
“Good. Let’s get started, then.”
Chapter Eighteen
“You’re purchasing sheep?” Mrs. Giswell said, both eyebrows lifting.
“I am,” Marjorie returned, as she helped Cowen and Ross clear the large table of plates and knives and the remains of what had been one very large roasted pig. Highlanders apparently liked to eat while deciding whether to betray their clan chief or their local, much-loved clan chieftain. And the consensus of deciding to wait and see who ended up alive was not very reassuring.
“And where do you intend to graze them? In the Leeds House garden among the roses?”
“Mrs. Giswell, are you being sarcastic?” Marjorie prodded. After the tension of the morning and the disappointment over how few of Graeme’s cotters had been willing to stand with him regardless of consequences, it was actually something of a relief to fall back on old familiar things like manners and etiquette.
The lady’s companion took hold of Marjorie’s left hand, her gaze riveted on the lovely sapphires. “You mean to stay here, don’t you? After these barbarian boys kidnapped you and brought you here against your will? After he tried toforceyou to marry him? What about our plans to find you a place in Society?”
“There is no place for me in Society.”
“You can’t know th—”
“I can,” she countered. “And you know it, as well. If I returned to London I would continue to be a resented pariah until I gave in to loneliness and married some fortune hunter, at which point I would be pitied and whispered about behind my back.” Taking Hortensia’s arm, she pulled the older woman to the tall ballroom windows. “Look out there. What do you see?”
“I’ll tell you what I don’t see. Almack’s, Drury Lane Theater, stately houses, Hyde Park, or Bond Street.”
Marjorie grinned. “Exactly. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“And what about your years of studying at boarding school?”
A warm hand slid around her waist. “She can try to tame the local heathens,” Graeme suggested, kissing her on the temple. “She’s already reduced the profanity in the hoose by a good sixty-four percent, I reckon.”
“Buthe’sa fortune hunter,” Mrs. Giswell insisted. “He told you he was. And now, before you’re even wed, he has you purchasing sheep. How is that different than what you’d have in London, except for the superior shopping?”
Graeme opened his mouth to retort, but subsided when Marjorie put a hand over his lips. “Because before the boys dragged me onto his doorstep, he wasn’t hunting a fortune. And because yesterday he tried to convince me to leave to keep me safe. And because I love him.”
“Humph. What am I to do, then? Return to London alone, I suppose. I’ll never work again, though, once any potential employer hears first about Princess Sophia and then about how my latest charge, an heiress, married a destitute viscount in the middle of Scotland.”
Guilt touched Marjorie. Poor Hortensia certainly couldn’t be blamed for any of this. And the lady’s companion had had such abysmal luck with employers. “I can certainly continue to employ you, Mrs. Giswell.”
“There are lasses here who could benefit from yer expertise,” Graeme added.
“Oh, pish. None of them could afford my expertise.”
Marjorie smiled. “Isn’t there space for a small schoolhouse in Sheiling?”
His fingers momentarily squeezed against her waist. “Aye. Doon beside the blacksmith’s. If Ree agrees, we could build ye a ballroom fer yer dance lessons, a dining room fer cutlery practice, and a—”
“An academy,” Mrs. Giswell interrupted, her color high and her eyes shining. “I’ve always dreamed, but with my reputation…”
“We’re heathens here, Mrs. Giswell. We dunnae care aboot yer reputation.”
“Oh, goodn—”
A rifle shot rang out, echoing across the valley.
Graeme’s hand left her waist. “Visitors,” he said, his expression going deadly serious. “They moved faster than I expected. Ye lasses and Connell head upstairs, lock the door behind ye, and stay away from the windows.” He met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. “At least dunnae be seen looking oot,” he amended, apparently reading her mind. He pulled a pistol from his pocket. “Be careful. It’s loaded and primed.”
He started for the hallway, but she grabbed his lapel and tugged. She might as well have tried to stop a volcano erupting, but he turned to face her again. “Yoube careful,” she whispered, and lifted on her toes to kiss him.
“I will,” he said with a swift grin. “I’ve a lioness to come home to.”
