“We could see you to my southern estate,” Graham offered, though reluctantly, knowing Duncan would encourage him to be the better man. “Then, we could send someone back to assist your man.”
“I suppose such must be our choice,” Cunningham was saying, but Graham’s eyes were on a strikingly beautiful young woman who had stepped down from the Cunningham coach and was striding towards them. In Aaran’s opinion, she was the most beautiful creature his eyes had ever beheld.
Her hair—rich with special red tones buried deep in the ancestry of Scotland—was thick and wavy and twisted into a loose chignon on the back of her head. She came to stand before them, her stance emphasizing very feminine curves, though the gown she wore was too juvenile to showcase the woman beneath it. A little hum of awareness announced its presence by sending a shot of desire to his manhood. Her skin was flawless—not the pasty white many in England thought spoke of perfection, but rather it was touched with a hint of sunshine.
She spoke before Aaran could form a response to Cunningham’s lackluster agreement to accept their assistance. “We are fortunate His Lordship was the one to discover us, Papa.”
Aaran belatedly realized Beaufort had waited for Aaran’s response. His brother said, “Why do we not place some of your trunks on both my and Graham’s coaches so as to lighten the load, which would make repairs easier. We will send a flatbed wagon back with Graham’s men to offset the rest of the weight. Is it just you and the young lady, my lord?”
“Pardon my poor manners,” Cunningham said as he gestured to the woman at his side. “This is my younger daughter, Lady Freya. My wife is also in my carriage. She is not one to be as curious as our daughter.”
“Mama is curious, sir. She simply sent me to discover the nature of things,” the girl protested, and Aaran enjoyed the melodic tone of her voice, not too high nor too low. A bit of huskiness that was downright enchanting.
“That is correct,” Beaufort said before Aaran could form a coherent thought. “Your eldest married this last Season, did she not?” Aaran’s brother asked, though it was apparent, at least to Aaran, that Beaufort, too, truly did not care to be apprised of Lord Cunningham’s affairs.
“Yes, to Lord Dickerson. She is now Dickerson’s viscountess and will reside in Buckinghamshire.”
“Excellent news,” Beaufort kept control of the situation. “You and Lady Cunningham should join me in my carriage, my lord. It is a bit larger than the one Lord Graham has employed for this journey.” Graham recognized Beaufort’s manipulation, but, for a change, Aaran did not object.
“I could not permit my daughter to ride alone with Lord Graham,” Cunningham declared in protest.
“Lady Freya would not be alone with Lord Graham,” Beaufort corrected. Graham admired his brother’s easy manipulation of Cunningham. “My betrothed is traveling with my brother. She and I are to marry at Graham’s estate and then travel to my grandmother’s estate in Ireland. We chose Scotland because we may cross more easily to Ireland from here than seeking passage out of London and around to the Irish Sea.”
“I did not know you were betrothed,” Cunningham said suspiciously.
“It is a relatively new betrothal. We planned to wait until spring to announce our intentions, but my grandmother is quiteill. I wished for her to know that I am well-settled. Permit me to fetch my future bride.” Beaufort stepped closer to Graham’s coach. “Come, my dear. I would have you presented to Lord Cunningham and his daughter.”
Lady Annalise stuck her hand out before showing herself. Both Aaran and Beaufort knew without her acknowledgment of Beaufort’s words, Lady Annalise had heard his conversation and recognized the excuses her future husband had offered Lord Cunningham. Lady Annalise would naturally follow Beaufort’s lead, for his brother’s betrothed was no ordinary woman. Beaufort lifted Annalise to the ground. “My lady,” his brother said as he led Her Ladyship back to where the others waited, “permit me to give you the acquaintance of Lord Cunningham, who, like Graham and Lord Duncan, represents Scotland in Parliament. Beside His Lordship is his daughter, Lady Freya. Their coach has broken an axel. I have offered to assist in transporting His Lordship and Lady Cunningham to Graham’s estate. My lord. My lady. This is my betrothed, Lady Annalise Dutton.”
“Marksman’s sister?” Cunningham asked in surprise. “But you are brother to Dutton.”
“Ours will not be an unlawful marriage,” Beaufort declared in that particular tone they all used when answering a foolish question. “Marksman and I are not brothers in blood, my lord. Lord Duncan simply guided each of us into our earldoms. If we were brothers, Marksman could not have recently married Lord Duncan’s daughter.” Aaran was confident none of the Scottish peers in the House of Lords would dare to speak out against Lord Macdonald Duncan, for he was not only a leader in the Home Office, but the most senior Scottish delegate to the House of Lords.
“Of course, I simply thought…”
“I have known Lord Beaufort longer than any of my brother’s other acquaintances,” Lady Annalise said as if on cue.
“Would you enjoy having some female company, my dear?” Beaufort asked, leading his betrothed to her response.
“Oh, please say you will join me, Lady Freya. I adore both Beaufort’s and Lord Graham’s company, but I have had so little chance to build connections to other young ladies in society.”
“If my father is agreeable, I would very much enjoy seeing this part of Scotland through Lord Graham’s eyes, as well as being one of the first to know Lady Annalise’s plans for the wedding.”
“How far is it to your estate, Graham?” Cunningham asked in grudging-like tones.
“A bit over ten miles, but the roads in the area are better than those inland. Approximately an hour and a half, I estimate. My staff will be pleased to have others to serve beyond my minor needs.”
Cunningham still did not appear pleased with his only true choice, but he said, “Freya, dear, please inform Their Lordships’ men which of your mother’s and your trunks would be most essential for this evening’s purposes. I am grateful to each of you, my lords, for your generosity.”
Lady Annalise laced her arm through Lady Freya’s. “Permit me to assist you. Come, Roland,” she said to Graham’s footman. “We shall require your strong arms to lift some of the trunks.”
Chapter Two
Freya had smiledeasily on the young woman. It was as if, at least for a few minutes, Lady Annalise Dutton had read Freya’s mind. Since the first time Freya had viewed Lord Aaran Graham standing with two other gentlemen outside of Parliament, her interest in His Lordship had piqued, though she could not name the rhyme nor the reason for her slight obsession. On that particular day, Freya had occupied her father’s coach, sharing the space with her mother and her older sister. Her father had been called back to Parliament for an important vote, and so they waited. They were expected at Lord Dickerson’s home to take the acquaintance of His Lordship’s parents. This was before Imelda, Freya’s elder sister, had become Dickerson’s betrothed and now his bride.
Two men had been standing together near the bottom of the steps before the House of Parliament. It was nearing twilight, but it was still light enough for her to view the pair. The coach’s door had been left open because Freya’s mother was always complaining of being overheated, and Freya could view the gentlemen quite easily. Neither spoke to her taste in men, though both were quite handsome.
She was prepared to look away when she spotted Lord Graham. He picked his way down Parliament’s steps to where the others waited. At first, she thought the gentleman used the cane as a fashion accessory, like the infamous Beau Brummell and his cohorts, but then she noted the slightest of limps. She marveled at how His Lordship had adjusted his stride and the speed of his steps to prevent what would be a lurch-like stumbling by any other man. Instead of knowing repulsion, Freya’s interest in the man grew quickly.
