He saw her off and, as the carriage continued down the alley to the main street, he ducked back into his home to re-bolt the door. He set about tidying and cleaning all over again, making sure all the locks were secured once more (twice), and finally ascended the stairs to his bedchamber.
As he lay atop the cold mattress, Ian was surprised to realize that he wasn’t as tortured by the thought of Meredith carrying another man’s child as he thought he might once have been. Instead, he pondered new foreign phrases with which to challenge Lady Juliette.
Chapter Five
Dinner at the Sommerfeld residence was a smashing success…other than the fact that the earl watched his sister with hawkeyed intensity, affording little opportunity for Ian to speak with her. That, coupled with the thinly-veiled animosity and brusque treatment from the viscount meant dinner was a real treat for Ian.
When he’d arrived, Meredith had pulled him aside and begged him not to mention the pregnancy to her husband just yet. Ian wished she had already done so because perhaps then the glowering man might have been a smidge more tolerable.
After dinner, Ian and the other men retired for drinks and cigars. While Ian could appreciate a good, stiff drink, he did not enjoy smoking and desperately needed space from feeling as if he was the odd man out—to be fair, he was the only man in attendance without a title, so hewasthe odd man out. Ian excused himself from the study and slipped out onto the balcony spanning the rear of the house and overlooking the small, well-kept garden. The address was still situated on a fashionable street, but far enough from Aldborough House and the viscount’s parents that Lord and Lady Sommerfeld had privacy and freedom in the early years of their marriage.
Ian leaned against the carved stone railing and inhaled the thick London night air. He loved his profession, he enjoyed healing and spreading his medical knowledge, but there were times when he missed the Highlands of his childhood; the white-capped mountains, rolling fields of purple heather undulating in the wind, the crisp air carrying with it the bleating of sheep and whistles of their shepherds.
A small coo off to the side drew Ian’s attention away from the night. Lady Juliette. And she was staring back at him with those glorious eyes, her arms clasped in front of her in a tantalizingly shy, tentative stance. Ever since Meredith’s late-night visit to his offices, he’d been unable to think of almost nothing other than seeing the dark-haired young lady, though he’d never admit it.
His stomach flipped. His pulse stuttered.
She truly was uncommonly pretty, Lady Juliette; like a porcelain doll…not meant for a Scottish physician with rough hands and a questionable past.
She had been crafted to be some wealthy lord’s pride and joy.
Her gentle smile caused his body to betray itself. And when she stepped closer to join him in the shadows between the doors of the study and parlor, his heart sped up every inch she grew closer. He furiously schooled his features to remain calm despite this.
“Lady Juliette,” he greeted her, though his voice came out hoarser than he’d intended. “How does your leg fare? You seem to be moving quite well.”
She rewarded him with an even broader smile. “Much better, thank you. I believe this is to be attributed to the fact that I have a somewhat decent physician.” Ian couldn’t help but chuckle at her cheek. “May I ask why you are outside?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“I felt like taking some air.” Her matter-of-fact reply and little shrug of her shoulders were endearing. Perhaps that was why he spoke the truth when he responded to her query.
“No matter how many dinners, balls, and parties I’m invited to, I still feel out of place.”
“Whyever is that?” she asked and leaned against the railing beside him, so close he caught a tantalizing hint of her light perfume, a hint of heaven. Her eyes softened in concern and he smiled gently.
“Because I’ll never be one of them.”One of you…It could have been a trick of the light, but he thought he witnessed a gleam of sadness in her eyes. He quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject; “Have you had any luck translating the phrase I gave you?” She shook her head, the light catching in the diamond studs in her ears and wound around her delicate throat. He nodded knowingly in reply. “There isn’t much of a market for the language of the Highlands.”
“Is that where you spent your childhood?” she inquired, tilting her head in the most charming of manners.
“It was.”
“Will you speak more of it, please? So I can hear it again as it is supposed to sound from a native speaker? I always prefer lessons from one born speaking the language than someone who had to learn it, themselves.”
At first, Ian thought she might be mocking him, but that was dashed in an instant as he saw the sweet, innocent candor in her eyes. She certainly hadn’t been jesting when she’d said she loved languages.
“Tha thu a' coimhead àlainn a-nochd,” he spoke softly, the words rolling off his tongue and caressing his lips with the old familiarity of a childhood home.
She made her best approximation of the words and sounds but failed miserably. Rather than become disheartened, she laughed with the lightheartedness of someone who loved life and learning. “What did you say?”
“‘You look lovely tonight,’” he replied, his heart kicking up as an unmistakable blush crested her cheeks. He waited to see if she would take offense; instead, she asked in a voice barely above a whisper for another phrase.
“Tha d’ inntinn na iongnadh,” he murmured. An unbidden heat began to pool in his loins.
Again, Lady Juliette tried her best to mimic the vowels and consonants. Though he did his best to disguise it with a cough, he couldn’t help a small chuckle at her clumsy efforts. “You are mocking me!” she hissed and swatted his arm playfully.
“Do not worry,” he reassured her, capturing her gloved hand in his, wishing he could feel the warmth of the soft skin beneath the satin. “No matter how good an ear you have, it is no easy language—especially not for aSassenachwho hasn’t heard its like before.”
“Sassenach?” She frowned. “What did you just call me?”
