Page 32 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Will watched, fascinated, at the sight of her intimacy. He wondered for a moment who would take the white horse home. The wagoner, probably. Except he already appeared to be getting ready by preparing his horses and waiting in the wagon nearby.

The sound of him shouting to his servants made Lissie look around in surprise.

"Och!" she said, noticing the wagoner was approaching. She was still attempting to put the shoe on her foot but appeared to be having difficulty.

Will was not surprised. He was more amazed anyone managed to ever put one of those contraptions on their feet in the first place.

"Here," he said, taking the tiny chopine and turning it around. He then placed it on Lissie's other foot. The shoe fit snugly, although Will could not help wondering about the circulation in her toes.

In doing so, he caught a tantalizing glimpse of her ankle as she pulled up a wrinkle in her hose, adjusting her shoes. Of course, he turned his head swiftly to spare her the embarrassment, but he could not blot out the beautiful sight from his head.

"Thank ye," said Lissie sheepishly as she fastened the clasp on the shoe. "An' it helps to have it on the right foot!"

Will murmured something to the effect that it was hard to tell and watched, wistfully, as she made her goodbyes and darted off to the waiting wagon.

Will noted that nobody had come to collect the white mare yet, and wondered when they might do so. It seemed as if she was stabled for the night.

"Perchance I will see ye again?" he called hopefully as she disappeared.

Lissie just smiled, leaving Will in a state of uncertainty.

As he left the stables, he patted Lissie's white mare fondly on the head. Then he closed his eyes, thinking.

Who was going to take her horse home?

* * *

"At last!"

His mother slammed the door shut on them the second they got into their wagon. Gazing wistfully out of the top of it, Will looked about to see if Lissie had gone yet.

She had.

The sound of hooves clopping down the pathway could be heard. In despondence, Will sat, waiting for her to disappear once and for all.

As soon as they were alone, the duchess turned on him, her full displeasure sparkling in her blue eyes. Will knew that look. She had fury in her about to be unleashed. Usually, Will would do his best to placate her. But this time, he was ready for a fight.

"William," said his mother, pursing her lips up, so tight, Will was amazed she could make a sound. "I think we need a small talk about appropriateness."

Will felt himself bristle. A spiky serge charged his veins. Somehow, he kept his voice cool. "Pardon?" he said icily.

The duchess turned toward him, her blue eyes piercing him coldly.

"The young woman," tutted his mother. "I struggle to use the term 'lady.'"

Will's eyebrows somersaulted. He felt a hot indignation burn his throat.

"Mother! Just because she is not actually a noble… She has explained this."

The duchess looked even more alarmed. "She has?" she said, frowning. Tonight she was even more imperious, if that were possible, wearing what looked like an entire family of stoats sewn together. "I do not see how one can explain being hedge-born yet aping a noble."

She cast a scornful look at Will, which made him fume internally.

"She is not," he said simply. There was something in his mother's tone that got his guard up immediately.

"It is of little importance," she said dismissively, flipping her gloves off and smacking them against her hand. "Because I need you to stay away from her."

Once again, her eyes went to his, flashing their meaning. "She is not the right girl for you and definitely not marriageable material. If we are to help get Mary-Ann a good match, then you must marry above yourself, or at least, no lower than a lady."