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It had been a week since the ball, and what a busy week it had been. Edward’s townhouse was visited every day by hopeful bachelors who were longing to win Orla’s heart. She recognized most of them from the ball, although some she met for the first time. There were tall men and short men, handsome men and ones whose appearance was, shall we say, unique. Orla greeted them all with a polite smile, but the novelty wore off quickly. She noticed that the conversations followed the same rhythm, almost as though the men were reading from a prepared script. She heard a lot of them boast about the size of their estates and their future prospects, which was increasingly boring for her, as she would have preferred to hear about their spirit of adventure or something more personal. Nova had warned her that these meetings weren’t the time to exchange personal information like this, and this only made Orla grow more frustrated with the way things were done there.

Eventually she snapped and began interrupting Nova, asking questions about what the men were proudest of doing in their lives, or what their greatest fears were, or what their most daring deed had been. The men reacted in different ways. Most of them were taken aback at having things change so dramatically from what they were used to, and sadly most of them had not done anything impressive with their lives. It seemed to her that being in London had coddled these men. It pained her to say it, but she thought that Hamish was correct in saying that they had not known hard work for one day of their lives. She actually paid attention to their hands more than anything else, and saw that none of them were calloused or scarred.

It made her wonder about the character of these men. How was she to know their valor if it had never truly been tested?

This brash way of speaking with the bachelors who visited her did not endear her to some of the fathers either. They took her behavior to be uncouth, and some even removed their sons from proceedings immediately. Orla did not mind this. In fact, she always wore a smirk, enjoying getting under the skin of these stuffy English men.

What she really wanted was an Englishman who did not adhere to the traditions that so many of them saw as precious.

All through that week, she had not met anyone who brought as much excitement to her mind as Collin. It was also notable that, during the week, she barely saw Hamish either. She occasionally heard him stomping about the townhouse, but he was taking his meals elsewhere. When she enquired about this, she was told that he was throwing himself into his work. Well, if work was that important to him, then he could keep on doing it. She thought it was the height of rudeness to kiss a girl and never speak to her about it, but she supposed that was the behavior she was hoping to leave behind in the Highlands. She was quite sure that Collin would never have made the same mistake.

Orla could have driven herself crazy with trying to think about why Hamish had not come to speak to her. Of course, she could not know what was going on in his mind. If it hadn’t been for the nearby presence of Nova and Edward, then she might well have confronted him about it.

Towards the end of the week, Edward received an invitation for all the members of his household, most especially Orla Stewart, to attend Duke Johnson’s birthday ball. This was an opportunity for Orla to see Collin again, and perhaps steal some moments with him where she could get to know him properly, but of course, her silly mind ended up thinking about Hamish more than Collin in the time leading up to the event. Hamish was invited too, and Edward had confirmed to her that he was going to attend. He was going to be forced to see her, and she wondered if he was going to talk to her about their kiss then. Since it was another ball, she even wondered if he had any intention of doing something so daring as to try and kiss her again.

Would he really be so foolhardy?

And would she be so foolhardy as to let it happen?

No… no she had to focus on Collin. He was the brightest prospect out of all the men she had seen, and she wanted to spend some more time alone with him. Their little stroll at the first ball had been interrupted, and this time she was going to ensure that history would not repeat itself. Since it would have been poor form to wear the same dress twice in such quick succession, she picked out another outfit that she had bought. This dress was a very narrow scarlet outfit, which pressed against her ribs tightly, causing quite a sharp amount of pain. She wanted to bear it, though, because she had seen a number of other women wearing something similar. Her waist became extremely narrow and her bust was made even more prominent.

She hoped that Collin would appreciate it. Along with her outfit, she wore an emerald necklace, the shade of which matched her eyes, as well as a butterfly pin in her hair. On this occasion, she decided to wear her hair down. It cascaded in soft curls to the middle of her back, so red that it almost looked as though it was a part of the dress itself.

She may have been in pain, but she looked the best she had ever looked, in her opinion, so she thought that it was worth the pain for the evening. She wore a smug smile as she admired her reflection in the mirror, running her hands along her smooth curves, thinking about how tortured Hamish would be by her appearance.

Orla descended the stairs just as she had done on the night of the first ball, expecting Hamish to be standing where he had been before, waiting for her. She appeared with a flourish, but was deflated when she realized that only Edward and Nova were waiting for her. She was then told that Hamish was making his own way to the ball.

“I knew the lad would get used to the way we do things in London. I think being away from his father has allowed him to find his feet. I wouldn’t be surprised if he returned to the Highlands a new man,” Edward said, while Orla tried to hide her frustration.

* * *

They arrived at Duke Johnson’s estate, the sight of which made eyes widen in wonder. It was a vast array of buildings all tucked towards a courtyard. The main house was tall and vast, looking as impressive as a tower. Lights burned within, and the courtyard was filled with carriages as the guests mingled outside. Never in her life had Orla had a birthday party quite like this one. She had never known enough people to be this popular!

There were minstrels singing and jesters providing entertainment in the courtyard, as well as games occurring in the gardens, which people scurried towards. Orla’s vision was greeted with a colorful fiesta of fashion, where each woman was like a flower that had been plucked from a bouquet. Since this was a birthday ball, there were not as many younger women here, for now was not the time for marriages to be arranged. Instead, it was a time for celebration, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

Edward handed a wrapped bottle of expensive whiskey to a servant, who bowed and promised that he would place it among the other presents. They walked forward slowly, having to wait for the throng of people to thin before they could progress. This was the part of London life that Orla adored the most, she decided. The gathering of all these people gave the place a vivid sense of grandeur, as though nothing like this could be found elsewhere. There was always something new to see, and Orla hoped that she could indeed see it all.

As they approached the house, she noticed Collin deep in conversation with an older couple. He turned and noticed them approach, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Orla. He rushed over to them, but as was the custom, he greeted Edward and Nova first.

“Where is your father? I should wish him a happy birthday before he drinks so much that he forgets,” Edward said with a warm smile.

“He’s right inside, sir. Currently, I believe, he’s telling the story of a recent trip he’s taken. He’s told the story at least a hundred times before, but I suppose that he’s using his birthday to indulge himself,” Collin replied.

“Well, if you can’t indulge yourself on your birthday then when can you?” Edward joked.

Collin nodded. “Would you mind if I gave Orla a tour of the estate while you greet my father?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Edward said, nodding towards Orla. Orla smiled and took Collin’s arm as he offered it. They walked away around the perimeter of the house, ignoring the side door. It was quieter there, with the murmur of conversation a gentle ripple in the background. Collin looked handsome in his suit, and he smelled fresh. His arm was rigid and lean, while he walked slowly, which she assumed was so that he did not hurry her along.

“You look utterly ravishing tonight,” Collin said as soon as they were alone.

“Thank ye, and ye look handsome tae,” Orla grinned, blushing.

“I’m glad that you all accepted my father’s invitation. It has been too long since we have seen each other.”

“It hae been a week,” Orla laughed.

“And a week has never seemed like eternity before,” Collin wore a slanted smile. “I hope that you like this estate. Father has worked so hard to make it a place where everyone can feel welcome. There’s nothing he likes more than hosting a party.”

“I can tell. He knows sae many people,” Orla said, glancing behind her. Collin held a door open for her, and they entered the estate. They were in a dark room, but this led through to an adjoining hall that was massive and filled with people. As Collin opened the door, it was as though a wave of sound rolled over her, and she had to reorient herself as she was faced with the bright chandeliers.

“He does indeed, but I know the things that are worth knowing about them,” Collin said in a low voice.

“And what would that be?”

“Well,” he started, turning to a thin man with a mustache as black as coal. He stood so still that Orla might have believed he was a statue. “That there is Earl Bellingham, and rumor has it that he is not actually the rightful Earl at all.”

“What dae ye mean?”

“Well, the story goes that the real Earl Bellingham took a trip to the far plains of Africa with a part of servants and he was gone for years, so long that some people did not think he would ever return. However, return he did, but you see, he came back with a mustache. You may be asking yourself why that is relevant. Well, Earl Bellingham suffered an accident at birth. I suppose it was some surgeon who was too free with their tools. Anyway, he ended up cutting the Earl on the lip, leaving a scar. Some people think that this pretender grew the mustache to hide the fact that he does not have a scar at all,” Collin said.

Orla stared at him for a few moments, wondering if he was simply pulling her leg. It was difficult to make out if this was a jest or not, though. Collin then asked her to point out someone else in the room. Orla swept her gaze around, but then stopped abruptly when she saw Hamish. He was there, standing out from all the other men with his powerful frame and his impressive height, but he was not alone. He was standing beside a woman, the same woman she had seen him with at the ball. Orla’s throat tightened.

“What about her?” she asked, her words laced with bitterness.