“How grand that sounds!” Alanna ventured bravely, fording into the rising tide of family enmity. Devorguilla silenced her middle daughter with a lift of her brows, and Alec watched Alanna subside into ladylike silence once again. The soup suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the room.
“Alec, are the tales we’ve heard about England true?” Sorcha asked cautiously.
“What tales are those?” he asked her.
“The one about English lords having tails they keep tucked in their breeches,” Muira interrupted.
Alanna hid a giggle behind her napkin, and earned a sharp look from her mother.
Alec had often wondered if Westlake was the devil, but doubted it could be proven by such an easy method as exposing his forked tail. “Of course not.”
“How would they sit down?” Sorcha asked, unperturbed.
“I hear that English gentlemen do nothing but ride roughshod over the countryside, killing babies and eating huge quantities of beef, chicken, and pork for breakfast, lunch, and supper. They drink three gallons of ale with each meal, wash it all down with a cask of brandy, and sleep until noon,” Megan added.
Alec couldn’t help but laugh. “ ’Tisn’t far from the truth,” he said lightly.
“And the ladies,” Alanna said. “Is it true they are allowed to do nothing but sit on cushions all day, so they don’t dirty their dresses or muss their hair, and spend their time doing needlework?”
“Except gossip and drink tea,” Sorcha added. She imitated a lady sipping from her cup with pinkie outstretched. “I hear that gossip is the passion of English ladies. If they haven’t heard anything of note, they make things up to cut each other most cruelly.”
“Everyone in England has three houses—a country house, a city house, and a hunting lodge—is that correct?” Megan asked.
“That’s why London is so crowded that there’s no room for anything green to grow. Too many buildings and too many people,” Sorcha added. “Is it true there are no flowers in London, and are the houses so tall you can’t see the sky? I would be sad indeed if I could not see the sky.”
Alec realized his sisters—and Muira—were awaiting his pronouncements on the stories they’d heard.
“Miss Forrester says that Englishmen are gentlemen like any other,” Megan said hopefully, and in English too.
“Does she now?” Alec asked. “And what has she to say about the gentlemen’s tails?”
“She says the only tails are upon their evening coats,” Alanna said.
Alec nodded. “True enough.”
“She says men and ladies both sleep until noon if they’ve been out at a ball or a party. Miss Forrester says they dance until dawn and drink champagne at the best parties. She’s been teaching us English dances, though the waltz is still considered scandalous in some places,” Megan said. “Still, if we are to take our place in English society as mother believes we must, we must go to London as soon as circumstances allow.” She looked to Alec for reassurance that this fate would not be so terrible.
“What’s wrong with Scottish lads?” Muira grumbled. “There’s plenty of lords with fine, strapping sons here.”
“Penniless,” Alanna sighed, as if by rote.
“What about love?” Alec asked, sipping the claret. Leith instantly leaped forward to refill his glass. “What if you fall in love with a poor man?”
Megan looked at him as if he’d lost his wits. “I would never be so foolish as that!”
“Miss Forrester believes in love,” Sorcha said. “At least I think she does. She likes poetry and stories.”
“I certainly hope she is not teaching you any such nonsense,” Devorguilla said. “She is here to instruct you about English language and manners and customs, not fill your head with foolish notions.”
“What a dreadful thing to say at Midsummer!” Muira said, hovering behind Alec’s chair. “ ’Tis the time when a young lassshouldbe thinking of love, reading the omens, watching for a sign of the man she’ll marry!”
The three girls looked at her with bright eyes.
“I believe we are quite finished with the soup. You may remove the plates,” Devorguilla said.
“I want to marry for love.” Alanna sighed, ignoring the brewing argument.
“Then you had better plan to fall in love with a rich English lord, for that is who you will wed,” Devorguilla said tartly.
