Page 23 of Return to Wildsyde

“Oh, Mrs Coghill. Ye will nae remember me, for ye were a wee laddie the last time we met, but my Tommy worked at the castle during the renovations yer parents did. Ach, but where does the time go, it seems a lifetime ago now,” she said in a rush.

“Well, Mrs Coghill, it was pleasant to make your acquaintance once more, but may I say just one thing?”

“Why, of course, my lord,” Mrs Coghill said, looking pleased.

“Dinnae be speaking about any young woman in such terms as ye just did, when ye have nae the slightest idea what ye are talkin’ about. And if I ever hear anyone speaking about a woman living under my roof in such a way again, I shall be having a quiet word with them, too. Do I make myself clear?”

Mrs Coghill flushed hard and gave a jerky nod, so Lyall turned his attention to the men, particularly the one who had been so keen to help Luella earn her keep. The man turned a sickly shade and muttered something unintelligible, but the point seemed to have been made. Lyall bade them a polite goodbye and strode off.

He slammed out of the door and into the fresh air, pausing in the spring sunshine to take a breath. Why their words had riled him so much, he did not know. They had said nothing he hadn’t thought himself in his less charitable moments. That Luella did not appear to have been made in the same mould as Lilith was hardly proof she was the decent young woman she purported to be. Luella could be everything she appeared to be, or she could be a deal cleverer than Lilith and was simply lulling them into believing she was proud and hardworking and determined to better her lot and that of her brother.

Mrs Baillie reported to him daily, informing him of everything that the girl said and did, and that she was quickly coming to respect the young woman spoke volumes. Sheenagh Baillie was no fool, nor was she a daft pillock being led by the balls by a pretty face. Her opinion mattered, but it still did not convince him. He was uncertain anything ever would, and the sooner Luella Fulbright was out of his life, the better off he’d be.

Lyall made his way along the street to the inn where he had agreed to meet his mother and Miss Fulbright for lunch, though the idea of having to sit through a meal with the wretched woman did not improve his mood. He was just considering the idea of going elsewhere to eat and whether it was worth facing his mother’s wrath in order to do so, when he noticed that lady walking towards him.

He sighed, knowing there was no escape now, and then his gaze turned to his ward.

The sight of her did not make him any happier at the prospect of her company. Their shopping expedition had clearly been a grand success. The gown of deep forest green suited Luella to perfection, highlighting her fair complexion and that jetty dark hair, which was now crowned with a fashionable little bonnet. He suspected her previous corset had been too big or too worn to do the intended job, for now he could see a waist far trimmer than he had realised, and a figure that was garnering a deal of interest from three fellows walking on the other side of the street. Lyall glared at them, and they turned and hurried on their way.

“You accomplished what you set out to do then,” he said dryly.

“We did. The rest will be sent on, but Mrs Rosie is a very competent lady and I think Luella looks very well indeed,” his mother said, giving her protégée an approving once over.

“Aye, she’s got the local lads’ eyes on stalks at any rate,” Lyall muttered sourly, pulling open the door for them to go through. “Let’s eat, I’m famished.”

“You are always famished,” his mother said with a smile, and walked in with Luella close behind her.

His ward had not so much as looked at him yet and seemed strangely out of sorts. In his experience, women were usually in high spirits after getting a new gown, but Miss Fulbright looked wan, the light of battle that was usually evident in her eyes extinguished. He wondered if perhaps the dressmaker had been rude to her. She would not have done so in his mother’s hearing, certainly, but if he had overheard such talk within a few hours of his arrival in town, the likelihood was that everyone was discussing her. He told himself she was a big girl, and he did not need to worry over her—indeed he’d be a damned fool to do so—but when the soup course arrived and she had still barely spoken a word, he could stand the suspense no longer.

“So what did ye make of Mrs Rosie?” he demanded, clearing his throat as she almost leapt out of her skin. He had not meant to bark the question at her, and she had obviously not been paying attention to the conversation.

She blinked at him, and the sight of her wide, thickly lashed eyes struck him with some force. He had not deigned to notice them before, remarking only they were not the guileless, beautiful bright blue that Lilith’s had been. Luella’s eyes were grey and filled with storm clouds, troubled and turbulent. Lilith would never have let him see that; she had hidden her temper and propensity for tantrums until he’d been well and truly caught.

“She was very kind to me in the circumstances,” Luella replied dully.

She returned her gaze to her soup, which annoyed him. He wanted to see her eyes, to see if there was a crack in the façade that would give him a clue to the truth of her.

“I should think she was,” he replied, knowing Mrs Rosie would lord it over her competitors for months to come not only because Lady Morven had chosen her shop over theirs, but because she had been the first to get a glimpse of his mysterious ward. His mother gave him a warning glance. “Are ye pleased with yer new gowns? The green becomes ye very well,” he added grudgingly, for it was nothing but the truth.

Luella glanced up at him and quickly away again. “I am very grateful to you, my lord. It is certainly the finest gown I have ever owned.”

She didn’t sound grateful, he thought uneasily. She sounded worn down, but there had been a glint in those stormy eyes that made him suspect she’d like nothing more than to break her soup bowl over his head. Not that he wanted her gratitude, but he wanted to know what had put her in this odd mood, for until now she had been feisty enough to talk back to him. He did not want some meek, subservient attitude from her now. Why, then, was she acting so?

He turned an enquiring look upon his mother, raising his eyebrows. She was quick to understand him and replied at once.

“Luella was rather shocked and disappointed to discover her inheritance was such a meagre sum, Lyall,” she said bluntly.

Lyall glowered at her. “Ye had nae business telling her, Ma.”

“Of course I did. It is her inheritance, and she was clearly making plans for her and Jack’s future on the strength of her belief it was a larger sum. That would have been cruel.”

He had to admit the truth of that. “Aye, I suppose so. I did nae know— What plans?”

Luella set down her soup spoon with a clatter. “To get away from you as soon as possible,” she said, her voice tight. “For I don’t imagine you wish to lord it over me for the next three years, any more than I wish to see you do it.”

“Luella,” his mother said anxiously, for the girl had pushed to her feet.

“Excuse me,” she said, clearly fighting tears as she hurried from the room.