“—while wearing breeches. Aye.”
“Er, I hadn’t realized, I wasn’t made aware—”
“Kinmarloch is a poor place, Mr. Pike. But ye can assure His Grace that the duchy of Dunmore, which his predecessor has undertaken to clear of farms, is slightly less poor. Ye can tell him the duchy has plentiful pasturage, and the Countess of Kinmarloch is doing her best to keep her sheep off his land.” She gestured at her mud-stained breeches. “Personally.”
“My lady.” His bow was deep, much deeper than his first one. At least this scoundrel knew what was owing to her.
“And ye can tell him he should come up here himself and see how his cousin has destroyed this place by proxy. See what has been done in the name of the Duke of Dunmore.”
She turned and walked in the direction of her small flock. Luran looked back at her and barked once. She made a movement with her hand and whistled, and he resumed his long, loping circles around the sheep, keeping them together.
The man followed her, leading his horse.
“Did the previous duke never visit from England?”
“Nae, he dinnae. We thought he might, we hoped he would. Instead, he just had his men—men like yerself—clear the farms and burn the villages.”
“Burn villages?”
“Aye.”
“My lady, please explain to me how you came to be the Countess of Kinmarloch and a MacNaughton will be the Duke of Dunmore when I believe your grandfather held the titles of both duke and earl together.”
“The earldom of Kinmarloch is an ancient one, Mr. Pike, and so the title—”
“Please call me Jack, my lady.”
The rain was a little heavier now. “Many ancient titles in Scotland can pass down the female line. My mother was my grandfather’s only child—”
“Then your father was earl?”
“Nae.” Was the man not listening? She turned to look at him and saw he had dropped behind her slightly and was looking at her bottom.
“Mr. Pike,” she said loudly. His eyes came up slowly. Then the grin. The man had no shame at being caught ogling her like she was a tavern wench. At least he wouldn’t be able to see her blush in the rain.
“My mother, if she had outlived my grandfather, would have been countess in her own right. As I am. My father, William Boyd, would have been my mother’s consort.”
“So, your husband is your consort?”
“I have nae husband.” She hated herself for her weakness, but she could not resist glancing at him as she said that. Suddenly, she wanted him to flirt with her again, as he had when he had offered to talk to her in a warm, dry place. Or to look at her bottom again. Maybe it was not as ill-formed as she thought. But he was looking down at the ground now, intent on keeping his very fine, well-polished boots out of as many puddles as possible.
“My father died a month before I was born and my mother died giving birth to me. I was her only child, just as she was my grandfather’s. The title of Kinmarloch came to me after my grandfather’s death five years ago. As I said, that ancient title can descend in the female line. But the title of the Duke of Dunmore is only two hundred years old and must pass to male heirs. My grandfather’s first cousin’s son was duke for a few months before he died. Then the title went tohisson, my third cousin Norman MacNaughton who is also dead now. Yer master, yet another third cousin, will have the title soon. Another MacNaughton who has spent his whole life away from Scotland and knows naething of our life here.”
“Perhaps that is why the purported duke sent me, my lady. To learn a little of the Highlands.”
“What does that mean?” She paused her forward motion and frowned. “Purported?”
“It means he’s thought to be the duke but he’s not the duke. Yet.”
Purported. She would remember that. She started walking again. “Aye. The widowed duchess. Do ye know if she is with child?”
“No. I don’t.” His answer was abrupt, angry.
“For the sake of the Highlands, I hope she is nae carrying an heir. We dinnae need a bairn made the Duke of Dunmore with corrupt men doing things in his name. But tell me, is yer master married? And if John MacNaughton is named duke, will he come here? We are eager to meet him.”
“You’re eager? Why is that?”
She bit her lip. She could not tell this Jack Pike what she had allowed herself to hope since talking to Mags yesterday—that the duke was unmarried and she might convince him, for the good of both their peoples, to marry her. So she could sway him to stop the clearances. And so their son would someday reunite the earldom and the duchy under one titleholder and the somewhat greater riches of the duchy could be used to support the impoverished earldom.
