Page 20 of Return to Wildsyde

“Well, I offered to go elsewhere,” Luella snapped back, too angry and frustrated by her lack of options to hold her tongue. She was trapped by the situation as tightly as he was, and he was an idiot if he couldn’t see that. “If you think I enjoy being subject to your control, you are out of your mind. I don’t want to be here with a man that hates me, but this was none of my idea. If you dislike it so much, why not just rent us rooms somewhere? Jack and I have always looked after ourselves perfectly well, we can keep doing so I assure you.”

He stared at her coldly, folding his arms, and Luella’s attention drifted to the way the fabric of his coat strained over powerful muscle. It took a deal of effort to return her focus attention to his eyes to hold that furious gaze.

“Aye, ye would like that, I don’t doubt, so you can get up to heaven alone knows what the moment my back is turned. Nae, lass. I learned that lesson the hard way. I shall keep ye where I can see ye and tan yer damned backside if ye put a foot out of line.”

Luella gasped.

“Lyall!” the countess exclaimed. “How dare you say that to her? You know very well you would never do such a thing.”

His eyes flashed in a way that was not reassuring, that stubborn jaw set as he returned his attention to the passing scenery.

“Would I nae? If she thinks to play me like her cousin, I may disappoint ye there, Ma, but if she does nae cause any trouble, she will have nae need to find out, will she?”

Luella sat rigid with indignation and the countess reached out and patted her hand.

“He would never do it,” she whispered, but looking at the belligerent expression on the man’s face as he gazed out at the wilderness beyond, Luella remained unconvinced.

He looked angry and frustrated beyond measure, putting her in mind once more of the lion at the menagerie, biding his time in the knowledge he would eat his keeper at the first opportunity.

Yet now his lordship had decided to act as if she was not there, she could not resist scrutinising him more closely. The carriage was a large one, and far more luxurious than any Luella had ever encountered but, for Lord Buchanan, it still seemed a rather tight fit. He’d crammed himself into the corner, apparently getting as far from her as he could, but his powerful frame did not look at all comfortable. His arms were folded tightly across his impressive chest, his legs too long to fit easily in the space between the seats. Despite her intention to ignore him as studiously as he was ignoring her, Luella’s gaze fell upon his bare knees and a few inches of powerful thigh where his kilt had ridden up. Much to her discomfort, she found she could not look away. It was only natural, she told herself. Luella had never seen such an amount of masculine flesh on display—her little brother certainly did not count—and certainly not bare male legs and knees. She had certainly never seen a man who looked anything like this one. He seemed barely tame, let alone civilised. Still, an uncomfortable flush of heat crept over her until her cheeks burned and she forced her reluctant gaze to settle elsewhere, only to discover the countess watching her with interest.

Luella blushed harder and turned away from them both. For the rest of the journey, she determined she would not turn around for anything.

Chapter 7

Muir,

Well, I have met the cousins, so here is my report as promised. Luella is a bonnie wee thing, raven black hair and stormy grey eyes. I reckon she has a temper, and a good deal of pride, too, not to mention a trim little figure that I admired a good deal. She’s nae the beauty Lilith was, but I like her. If she really is as sly as her cousin, she’s got an extraordinary talent for mendacity, for I found her genuine and very likeable. Her brother seems a friendly lad, too.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Hon’ble Mr Hamilton Anderston to The Hon’ble Mr Muir Anderson (younger brothers of The Right Hon’ble Lyall Anderson, Viscount Buchanan)

15th May 1845, Wick, Caithness, The Highlands of Scotland.

That Wick was a fishing town was indisputable. Luella had never seen so many fishing boats in one place: over a thousand, according to Lady Morven. The same silver darlings that fed the tenants of Wildsyde had brought wealth to the previously sleepy town and substantially increased the population.

“It’s somewhat increased the number of public houses and breweries too,” Lady Morven told her wryly when Luella commented upon the amount of bustle and noise around the harbour. “Two and twenty pubs in Wick and another three and twenty in Pultney Town on the south side of the river. I hear they get through five hundred gallons of whisky in a day, if you can credit it.”

“Good heavens, it’s a miracle they can find their boats,” Luella replied, wide-eyed.

Lady Morven nodded in amusement. “Still, there are also thirteen dressmakers. I admit I would not frequent most of them, but Mrs Rosie has a clever hand with a needle and is rather more up to date with the latest fashions than most of her competitors.”

“Is she cheap?” Luella asked grimly.

The countess sighed and apparently chose to ignore this question for the moment.

Rosie’s was a neat little shop just off the main high street. In the window, a dressmaker’s dummy displayed a surprising range of lovely fabrics with clever draping over and around it, and Luella’s gaze fell at once upon a soft shade of green in a heavy satin fabric that looked horribly costly. She looked away at once and turned her back on the display. There was no point in looking at things she could not afford, it would only depress her.

“Come along, then,” Lady Morven said, pushing the door open.

A little bell tinkled overhead and a small, plump woman in her thirties came bustling out from the back room. Dressed in a lovely plaid gown in shades of red and blue that fitted her to perfection, she was an excellent advert for her own skills. Upon seeing Lady Morven, she beamed with pleasure and sank into a low curtsey.

“My lady, how delighted I am to see ye, and how good of you to come to my wee shop.”

“Nonsense, Mrs Rosie,” Lady Morven said with a brisk smile. “I was very impressed by the beautiful embroidery on those mantles I ordered, and that gown you made for Mrs Munro was exquisite. She quite put us all in the shade, I assure you.”

“Och, nae, I dinnae believe it,” Mrs Rosie said with a laugh, though she had turned pink with pleasure. “But ’tis very good of ye to say so. And who is this lovely lassie?” she asked, turning her attention to Luella, her smile dimming comically as she took in Luella’s faded dress and shawl, and her battered bonnet.

“This is Miss Luella Fulbright, my son’s ward,” Lady Morven said briskly.