“Thank you,” she replied. “It would be a great help, and she should come to know her father’s side of the family.”
Once in the hall, Cormac called for the coach.
As they waited, Simon stood next to his son. “I’m sorry to be the cause of your losing your title.”
His son shrugged in resignation. “It seems to me it was my grandfather and the old devil’s fault. They had to have known your marriage was legal. I’m more worried about how it will affect Fee. There is bound to be a major scandal.”
“My family is highly placed, and from what I understand, you have all lived quietly. Wherever we go, we won’t remain in Scotland; somehow we’ll find a way to minimize talk.”
Cormac quietly studied the marble floor for a moment, then glanced up at Simon. “WhoamI now, though?”
“Your name is Mr. Cormac Cavendish. Grandson of the Duke of Gordon. Who you are is whoever you wish to be.”
The next morning, Kit handed Mary into his curricle, then dashed back into the house for the all-important guidebook.
“Where have Kit and Mary gone?” Kit heard Huntley ask from the breakfast room.
“I believe they are viewing Holyrood Palace to-day,” Caro answered.
“What the deuce is he trying to do? Bore the woman to death?”
Caro’s laughter floated on the air. “No, my love. He’s trying to keep her away from all the other gentlemen.”
Kit was indeed. The only problem was he didn’t know if Mary liked his company as a suitor or merely a friend. The latter was not what he wanted. Somehow he’d have to make her see him as a potential husband.
Forty minutes later, they reached the palace.
“It’s beautiful,” Mary said, staring up at the façade.
“I’ve heard the French renovated the King’s chamber when the Count d’Artois was here. Did you know he used the abbey sanctuary to avoid his creditors?” Thankfully, Kit had read the guidebook.
“I did hear something about it, though I was too young to understand it at the time.” He lifted her out of the curricle. “I love that they allow debtors to remain there and not go to prison.”
“I take it you do not agree with the current law.”
“Definitely not. It seems to me to be grossly unfair.”
He led her through the main door, and handed the porter the entrance fee. “I agree. The inability to manage one’s funds should not be a crime. What would you like to see first?”
“The Queen’s chambers. I hear they are magnificent.”
They spent the next two hours touring the inside of the sixteenth-century palace, before strolling through the courtyard garden. He was surprised, and pleased, to find almost no one else present. “Mary, I believe there is to be a drum this evening. Will you save me the same waltzes as last night?”
“I’d be delighted to.” She glanced up at him, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Won’t the hostess be upset?”
He held back an exasperated growl. “They’ll have to make do.”
As they were about to stroll back to the carriage, the sound of tittering could be heard. “Don’t look now, but I think we’re about to be invaded.” He tightened his grip on Mary. “Whatever happens, don’t let go of me.”
Kit seemed so appalled Mary wanted to chuckle, until she saw the trio approaching. The one in the lead was the young lady she had attempted to warn off yesterday.
“Oh, Mr. Featherton!” A girl dressed in a profusion of lace and ruffles quickened her step. “How unexpected to see you here.”
Unexpected, my foot. The two ladies with the girl giggled, giving lie to her exclamation of surprise. How on earth did they find him? They must have learned where she and Kit were during morning visits.
He bowed. “Indeed, Lady Mary and I were just leaving. Enjoy the gardens.”
The girl’s face fell ludicrously, and it was all Mary could do not to laugh as Kit steered her quickly down the path toward the palace. If she had acted like that during her first Season, no wonder he hadn’t given her the time of day. “One would think they’d still be engaged in morning visits.”
