Page 26 of By Any Other Name

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Rylla leaned her forehead against the windowpane, gazing down at the street below. She sat curled up on the window seat of Eleanor’s room, and behind her, Eleanor was packing the last of her clothes into a trunk. Eleanor was talking, but Rylla found it difficult to keep her mind on her friend’s words. She hadn’t been able to keep her mind on much of anything all morning.

Except, of course, Gregory. And the night before. What would happen now? She thought of the gossip she had heard over the years—how this girl or that was “ruined.” How men were no longer interested in a woman once they’d obtained the prize they sought.

What would she do when she saw Gregory again? Or perhaps she would not even see him. Perhaps he no longer desired her. He might now consider her lewd and licentious. It was said men were like that.

But not Gregory. He understood her desire to do things, see things. Indeed, he seemed to enjoy her nature. He never looked grim or disapproving over something she said. At times he objected, saying something was too dangerous, but he never told her she was too unladylike or acting like a romp. No, Gregory was different. He would not turn from her. Her heart clenched inside her chest. She didn’t know how she could bear it if he did.

“I am sorry to go home before Daniel returns,” Eleanor told her. “I know you are worried about him.”

“Yes.” Rylla pulled her thoughts away from their unproductive course. “But it’s Christmas Eve. You will want to spend it with your family.” She straightened and leaned closer to the window. “There’s Gre—Mr. Rose. And Sir Andrew. I wasn’t sure—I mean, I wasn’t expecting them.” She jumped up, shaking out her skirts and checking her image in the mirror.

Eleanor joined her at the window. “Sir Andrew is escorting me home today.”

“He is?” Rylla stared.

“Yes.” A secretive smile played at the corners of Eleanor’s mouth.

Rylla’s jaw dropped. “Eleanor! What are you saying? Is he—are you—”

Eleanor laughed. “I will let you know after our journey.”

Stunned into silence, Rylla followed Eleanor down the stairs. When she stepped into the drawing room, her eyes went immediately to Gregory. He was sitting on the sofa, talking stiltedly with Rylla’s parents and Sir Andrew. Both the young men popped to their feet, looking vastly relieved, when Eleanor and Rylla entered.

Rylla blushed. She could not see Gregory without thinking how he had looked last night, deep in the throes of passion. She wondered what he thought when he gazed at her.

After a few minutes, Eleanor and Sir Andrew took their leave. Gregory and the Campbells stood on their front stoop, waving good-bye until the post chaise turned the corner. Rylla’s father retired to his study, and Mrs. Campbell walked back to the drawing room. Rylla started to follow her mother, but Gregory reached out a hand to stop her.

“Rylla. I want to talk to you.”

Rylla turned to him, her heart beating painfully hard. Gregory’s face was unaccustomedly serious. Her spirits plummeted. She had been wrong. His feelings had changed. He was about to tell her he was returning home to the Highlands. Or he would say he didn’t think they would suit.

“Rylla, dear?” Her mother paused in the doorway of the drawing room.

“Yes, Mama.” Rylla ducked her head, avoiding Gregory’s gaze, and hurried after her. She could not bear to talk to him today. She could not manage a calm, collected front with him.

Rylla avoided Gregory’s eyes as she chattered gaily about Christmas and Twelfth Night parties. They were interrupted by the sound of the front door closing, followed by footsteps in the hall. As Rylla looked toward the doorway, a young man walked into the room. He was travel-stained and weary, but he smiled at the two women.

“Daniel!” Rylla popped up and ran to her brother. “I’m so glad to see you!”

“Here now, Ryl, careful, I’ll get you dirty.”

The next few minutes were filled with excited babble. Finally Mrs. Campbell, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, hurried off down the hall to inform her husband of the news. Rylla waited until she was gone, then swung on her brother.

“Daniel! Where have you been? I was certain something terrible had happened to you. Gregory and I have—”

“What? Who is Gregory?”

“I’m sorry. You don’t know Mr. Rose.” Gregory had become so much a part of her life that it seemed absurd that her brother had not even met him. Quickly Rylla ran through the introductions of the two men, then returned to her topic. “What happened to you, Daniel? Why didn’t you tell us where you were going?”

“I didn’t expect to be gone so long,” Daniel protested. “After Papa and I, well—” He glanced uncertainly at Gregory.

“Do not stand on ceremony with Gregory,” Rylla told him. “He knows all about it. He has been helping me search for you.”

“Search for me! But, Rylla, how . . . where . . .”

“Never mind that. Tell me where you went.”