Page 16 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Mary's eyebrows nearly shot off her head. Then, she saw the twinkle in her mother's eyes. Immediately, she played along.

"What?" said Mary, her eyes widening. She had stopped on her heel and was now standing in front of the fire, gazing balefully at her mother.

"Well, sweeting," began the duchess. "Without a dowry, we will struggle to find you a suitable match."

His mother's sharp gaze switched straight to Will, who rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, Mother. We might not be flush with gold, but I think we can manage," began Will.

"Hmm, but it is the family name," replied his mother. "More than anything, we cannot risk it. And an unmarried eldest son quickly becomes the talk of the town."

Will had just opened his mouth to contest that he, not Trenton, was ever the talk of the town, but his mother just plowed on.

"The fact is, to make the best matches, we need to be seen seriously. And that, dear Son, means wedding bells," said the duchess, but then, with a sly aside to Mary, carried on. "However, since your brother has decided to take the path to celibacy, then it is not to be. And the only thing that can be done is for you to join him—in holy orders!"

"But Mother," cried Mary. She turned sternly to Will.

"Will, you must assist me. I beseech you! I will not go to a nunnery."

The look in her eyes was hot and cunning. Will did not doubt for one minute that she was being put up to this by their mother. But, even so, his conscience had been pricked.

His mother was right. There was no way around it. With dismay, Will realized that it was time to do what was required.

Around the corners of his eyes, his expression softened.

"Very well, Sister. You shall have your robes and fripperies," he said reluctantly. "And Mother, you shall have your way. But I need both of your assistance; to accompany me to Lady Eleanor's ball, and help me find a wife."

CHAPTER 4

"My dear!"

Annice, Lady Agnes, puttered across the vast bedchamber on uncertain chopines shipped fresh from Spain. Lissie watched in grudging admiration as she navigated the chamber somehow without once faltering on the high-altitude footwear.

From beside the bed, Lissie rose, her servants still dressing her.

"No need to stand, my dear," said Annice, oblivious to the fact that Lissie was still scrambling to cover herself decently. Her cousin had entered without knocking—something she was prone to, as Lissie was fast finding out.

Lissie mumbled something half-hearted as the maid quickly laced up her gown and bustled out of the room. Lissie glimpsed her leaving, mouthing helplessly that she had not finished dressing when Annice came up beside her.

"Calm yourself, Lissie, I can assist!"

Lissie stared, opened-mouthed, as Annice circled, her eyes fastening to her like hooks.

Lissie was standing before the silver glass, reflecting back in fine detail the taffeta she was modeling. The ball was only a few hours away, and her nerves were rising.

She had been in London for two weeks now. In some ways, it felt like forever. And Lissie had begun to wonder if she would ever again see the green glens of Scotland.

Sometimes it felt as if the longer she was here, the less she was used to it. Everything in London was noisy. And crowded. And dirty.

For two weeks, she had trailed behind Annice, primped and primed, visiting dignitary after dignitary, and being prepped on the correct London etiquette.

But Annice had made it very clear she was not yet up to scratch.

"Hmm," said Annice thoughtfully, her eyes scrutinizing every inch of Lissie's attire. Tensely, Lissie waited as Annice's sharp eyes clung to her.

"Well, well, well," muttered Annice, almost to herself, as Lissie drew her long skirts and checked herself uncertainly. She hated it when Annice stared at her.

Her cousin's breath was hot upon her collar. Rattled, Lissie chewed her lip. Her patience was wearing thin. She never could stand to have someone breathing over her. Especially when they were looking at her like that. And Annice was always looking at her like that.