“Thanks, I think?” Elspeth smiled. “Oh my, I do believe I see someone I must speak to! If ye would excuse me, Lady Featherstone.”
After a bit of shuffling, Elspeth found herself back in the company of the Countess.
“Oh, Lady Pemberton,” she sighed. “I am terribly sorry!”
“I should have known better than to approach her.” The Countess shook her head. “Her son is a wonder, nothing like her. Her husband, rest his soul, was equally insufferable. I do not know why he became so haughty. But no bother, on to bigger and better things. Let me introduce you to other lovely young men.”
“I will follow yer gracious lead,” Elspeth said as she followed her along. “Thank ye for bein’ so kind to me.”
“Are you joking, Lady Inverhall? I am living vicariously through you tonight, so you must give it your all at the ball!”
Hugo observed Elspeth from a distance, a frown subtly creasing his brow as he nursed his brandy. He saw her smiling, her head tilted in polite interest as the Countess introduced her to a young lord whose name he could not recall. Her laughter, though still a little too free, was more modulated.
Grandmother truly can work miracles.So, why am I aggravated?
She was doing exactly what he wanted, yet a strange, unwelcome irritation pricked his chest. Her success was a testament to his guidance, so why did the sight of her sparkling emerald-green eyes and easy charm make him feel so…excluded? He had sculpted this version of her, but she was now thriving in a world he was only ever meant to show her.
She does not need me, after all.
He watched her curtsey gracefully as the lord was called away and then turned to survey the ballroom with a new confidence he had never seen before. It was a confidence that did not require his guidance, nor his silent approval.
He pushed off the wall and made his way through the crowd, his irritation hardening into a more purposeful resolve. He was downright angry.
She was his responsibility.
It is time for a true progress report.
“Your Grace,” Aaron said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You really are a man about the ton these days. I used to tell people that you were my imaginary friend when I needed sympathy.”
“Not today,” Hugo barked, shrugging him off.
“Do not tell me. Is it the Highland doll who is stealing the heart of every young man in this place? In fact, is the plan to make your lass into a lady going a littletoo well?”
“I said,not today,” Hugo gritted out, his patience thinning. “You would do well to watch your tongue.”
“You cannot go in so hot, old boy,” Aaron whispered. “Come with me, have a small drink, and cool off. I did not mean to push you so far. Come with me.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Hugo muttered, and they walked off to the bar.
He looked up at Elspeth, who was talking with Lord Farrington. She was laughing at some joke, her tilted chin accentuating the dimples in her flushed cheeks.
She lowered her lips to her champagne flute, sipping elegantly as another lord approached her, flanking her on the other side. This time, it was Lord Farthing, the insufferable chap who had beaten Hugo at cards two years ago.
“Look at her,” Hugo said through gritted teeth. “I know I said I wanted her married off, but they are lining up around her like she is a prized?—”
“Mare,” Aaron cut in, steering him toward the bar. “I think that was a taunt she threw at you on more than one occasion, fromwhat you had told me. I believe it is time for that drink, Your Grace.”
Suddenly, a new voice cut through the pleasant hum of the ball while Elspeth had been looking around after the lords she had been speaking to excused themselves. She turned around to face the source.
“Please excuse my boldness, but it is Lady Inverhall, is it not?”
“It is, Me Lord,” she said with a practiced curtsey. “To whom do I owe the honor of such a pleasant introduction?”
“I am Lord Middleby. I confess, I have been most intrigued by the whispers surrounding your arrival in London. My family has Scottish roots, though we do not talk about them often. Why, I spent a fortnight in Edinburgh as a young lad, and believe it or not, I developed a taste for haggis!”
Elspeth laughed politely as she took in the face in front of her. It was handsome enough. He was a man of middling height, with straight, slicked-back blond hair and brown eyes.
“Lord Middleby,” she acknowledged, her tone neutral, remembering the Dowager Duchess’s instruction to maintain a polite distance from strangers. “I am impressed by yer palate, and glad ye have had the opportunity to see Scotland. I miss it so.”
