Page 44 of A Highland Lass for the English Duke

The dim, London sun came hazily through it, trapped behind a miasma of cloud that always seemed to be there. Perhaps it was the smoke. But Lissie had never yet seen the unadulterated London sky, and suddenly, crazily, she missed it.

More to the point, she missed the glens. Thoughts of home hit her hard. She had come such a long way, and sometimes she wondered if she would ever see it again.

Perhaps she would take Will there someday? The thought floated through her mind like a tantalizing possibility. It had not occurred to Lissie, until that minute, that Will might ever see the Duncan lands. An excited shiver ran up Lissie's spine as she hugged herself on the inside.

Yes. That was exactly what would happen one day, she felt sure. One way or another, Will would visit her homeland.

The little dream that Lissie had created for herself must have shown on her face as Annice was eyeing her with curiosity.

"Well then, Cousin. This pleases me well. Pray tell, who is the lucky gentleman?"

Annice was all ears, as were the attendant chambermaids. For a moment, Lissie felt a little shy, but then threw caution to the wind. Someone like Annice would hear eventually.

"Lord William Rothingham of Iverst," she announced proudly.

A silence hung in the air. Annice looked uncertainly around at her maid. From the back of the room, Jane nodded. She was seated quietly, folding linen in the recesses of the room.

Lissie, who had not even seen Jane, stirred momentarily. The constant presence of unexpected eyes was something she was getting used to. London, she was fast discovering, had spies everywhere.

"Mistress means William, the third Duke of Iverst, my lady," murmured Jane, seated in the shadows, her entire being head-to-toe in gray.

Annice frowned. "A duke?" she asked hoarsely. Then she tutted. "And not just any, but of Iverst?"

In a spin, Annice swung around on her heel, semi-pirouetting toward Lissie. From the bead-like glare in her eyes, Lissie could tell all was not well.

"The third duke of Iverst," repeated Annice testily. Her eyes flared dramatically. "He is one of the most respected men in the city—nay, in the country! His family are very highly placed."

Lissie smiled faintly. "Aye, an' that's braw, isnae it?" she said, hoping Annice would agree.

But the light of hope was not burning in her cousin's eye. Instead, she saw dismay.

"Lissie," she said softly. Lissie's skin prickled up as Annice came over. She had never once before used Lissie's shortened name.

Then, she put her arm around her.

This was bad. Really bad.

"Sweeting," she said, rearranging Lissie's hair braids deftly.

Lissie, who had never been able to abide any fiddling of her hair, sat and clenched her teeth.

Annice filled her with the full volume of her smile. It was bright.

"My heart," she said again, obviously pausing to consider her words. "A duke such as William, he is, how can I put it…destined for higher things."

Lissie looked up. Annice really knew how to put her in her place. But Annice was not done yet.

"My dear, there is simply no way someone as highborn as the duke can possibly consent to marry a commoner!"

Lissie opened her mouth to speak but was so aghast, no sound came out. Even the maids in the room looked shocked. Sensing she had gone too far, Annice took another tack.

"I mean, I know about the clan, and it is good, but, my dear, it really is not the same as a lady of standing. Especially an English lady. I really wish I was not the one to have to say it."

Lissie watched her cousin's face. She certainly didn't look as if she were under duress. In fact, Lissie got the distinct sense that she was enjoying it.

A lot.

All the same, Cousin Annice made a great play of pulling a pained face and turning toward her, all sympathetic.