Page 33 of A Highland Lass for the English Duke

"No," he said curtly. It was not usual for him to defy his mother, but enough was enough.

This got the duchess's attention. Stiffly, she turned to look at him.

Will had hopped down from the carriage and began walking away from the house. In dismay, his mother stuck her head out of the wagon.

"Will?" she asked, hurt. Will rolled his eyes mentally and tried to resist her tactics. "William, what on Earth is the meaning of this? You cannot afford a match that is that much lower than yourself!"

"That is up to me, Mother," said Will, without bothering to dress it up. He turned abruptly toward her. His mother gazed at him, aghast. Will almost laughed at the comical expression on her face.

"But-but," she began. "The girl was almost half-dressed! Her shawl was off, and her shoes missing! Those are not the actions of a lady."

But Will was in no mood to hear it. He had already had enough of stifling halls and vapid conversations for life. Lissie's unexpected foray into the London scene was the best thing to happen to it in decades.

"If you must know, I was not keen on the idea of marriage, but I went along with it for the good of the family. You must also remember the good of our country. Remember, Scotland is where our true king is reputed to be headed, and Lissie is behind him."

Will looked quickly at his mother. In fact, this was an exaggeration. They had not talked of such matters, but he felt sure he had found an ally in her. Pressing on, he continued.

"And either way, Mother, whoever I marry will be my choice and mine alone."

And before his mother could utter another word, Will was bounding away, putting a clear distance between himself and his mother.

Brushing himself down, Will headed quickly for the stables. There, he found Florentine, Lissie's white mare. Patting her gently, he slowly gained her confidence.

He would need it. Within minutes, he had mounted the surprised mare and began trotting it down along the driveway, out into the town.

The dusk was thickening, as above them, the night came towering down. It was pitch-black all over. Tonight, he would concentrate on getting home. But at first light, he would arise, dress for house calls, and be ready to ride.

Smiling at the reins, Will trotted smoothly out of the manor gates.

He had a plan.

CHAPTER 8

"Elisabeth!"

Through the haze of the morning, Lissie stirred.

"Who's Elisabeth?" she murmured, still only half awake. Through her confusion, Annice tutted. It took Lissie some time to come to.

Then she remembered. She was Elisabeth. It was just that no one in her entire life had ever called her that until she had come to England.

Stirring sullenly, Lissie pulled herself together. Opening an eye, she realized she was not in her bedchamber. In fact, she was not even in a bed.

This was bad. Very bad.

In something of a panic, she glanced at Annice.

Something was wrong. Even by Annice's insane standards, she was overdressed for the bedchamber. Blinking, it took Lissie a minute to get her bearings.

"Where-where am I?"

"God's tooth, Elisabeth!" tutted Annice. But she kept her voice low. Casting her eyes down, she looked around the assembled room.

It was not even the solar. She was in the grand hall and getting an even greater shock, and she could see she was not alone.

The great and the good were sweeping through the doorway. As they entered, Annice smiled and greeted them at a distance. In a minute, she would go over to formally present Elisabeth to them, but for now, she was frowning intently.

"For heaven's sake, Elisabeth. Shake a leg. Look at yourself. You've been asleep, with your mouth open, catching flies."