“Then they’re fine. As long as he’s wearing trousers and they didn’t take much money with them in case of pickpockets, then they’re fine.”
“They didn’t take any money with them. They don’t have any. I have all the money. What if they need money? To pay a ruffian or a bribe of some kind?”
“A bribe? Helen, calm down. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Aye, fine, then ridicule me. But tell me where I should go to find them!”
“You should sit here and wait for them to come back.”
“They could be lost, Jack. They dinnae know London.”
“You don’t know London either but you knew enough to point out when I was going the wrong way.”
“Aye, but—”
“Just wait, Helen.”
“Will ye, please, Jack, please, will ye wait with me? Please? I cannae bear it.”
Although she was frantic with worry, Helen couldn’t help noticing this was the first time since she had assumed her title that she had someone to soothe her when she was anxious. Arms to hold her, a chest to burrow into, a voice in her ear shushing her.
And she wondered how she would survive if she never had it again.
Just as ye have been surviving all along, Helen Boyd. Dinnae get soft now.
The relief, oh, the relief, followed quickly by rage, when the young pair came back a quarter of an hour later. Mags, tearful and apologizing for worrying Helen. Duncan, stoic and silent under the barrage of Helen’s ire.
After Jack had left, saying he would call tomorrow, and Duncan had gone to his room, Mags sat on the drawing room sofa and explained.
“I am so sorry, my lady. We dinnae mean to worry ye. Ye were gone so long and . . . and . . . Duncan is nae used to being idle and shut up inside. And we’ve been—I mean, we had naething else to do so we were kissing and I wanted to go on kissing, but Duncan said it was too hard to stop and we had to stop because he cannae ask for me and it would be wrong, and I said we should go out so we widnae be tempted to do the kissing anymore, and we walked all around and it was so different and we liked seeing all the shop windows and the people. We dinnae realize how late it was. Please dinnae be angry at Duncan. ’Tis my fault.”
Helen sat next to Mags and stroked her hair. “I got angry because I was so scared, Mags.” She hugged the girl. “It made me think about—” She pulled away and held Mags at arm’s length. “Yer here and yer safe and ye willnae go wandering again.” Mags nodded. “And I will apologize to Duncan for being such a harridan. I’ve been thinking if I manage to become the Duchess of Dunmore, maybe there might be a job for Duncan as a farrier in the duke’s stables.”
“Really?” Mags’ eyes lit up.
“Dinnae say anything to him yet.”
“I willnae. Did ye meet the duke today? Yer dress is so fine. Look at the little flowers on it.”
“Nae, I dinnae.”
“Oh, I was hoping ye were gone so long because Mr. Pike had taken ye to meet him.”
“Nae yet.”
“Ye will meet him and he will see yer pretty dress and fall in love with ye and ask ye to marry him.”
It was all so simple for Mags. She loved a man and he loved her and as soon as he was able, he would marry her. And they would have children and grow old together. There was none of this business of being in love with one man and marrying another.
No, that wasn’t right. Helen wasn’t in love with Jack. She mustn’t think that. She was bedding Jack. There was a difference. But bedding one man and wanting to marry another man was complicated enough. Even if the other man was as-of-yet unseen and unspoken with.
She might not feel an attraction to the duke. She might never love the duke. But if he were willing to save her earldom and to keep her and every soul she loved from want, John MacNaughton would have her body, her loyalty, her attention for the rest of his life. And a fair imitation of love. She owed him that.
The duke need not have brown eyes and a wicked grin and a handsome chest.
But it would help.
Twenty-One
