Page 24 of Return to Wildsyde

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” His mother shot him an impatient glare.

“What the devil did I do?” Lyall demanded indignantly.

“Nothing of use,” she snapped, obviously frustrated with him. “Go after her, you great lummox.”

Grumbling, Lyall set his napkin aside and got to his feet. “And say what?” he demanded. “She does nae like me anymore than I like her.”

“Then I suggest you think of a way you can get along together. She is determined not to be in your debt, Lyall. I really think she means it, too. She is in this temper because she feels she owes you money for the clothes on her back and so she can take no pleasure in them.”

“Pfft,” Lyall replied. “Ach, Ma, she has twisted ye round her little finger already. Have ye forgotten Lilith?”

“Indeed, I have not,” his mother said coldly, holding his gaze. “But Lilith was an amoral child with no notion of right and wrong. Luella is a very different creature, that much is obvious. I am not asking you to trust her, Lyall, only she needs careful handling if you don’t wish the next three years to be a trial to you both. What if she won’t leave Jack in your care? You know she means to take him with her when she reaches four and twenty. If you don’t let her, she will probably stay on with him, and then what?”

Lyal let out a long-suffering sigh but had to admit the sense of this. “I still dinnae know what I’m supposed to say to her,” he muttered, heading for the door.

“Then I suggest you think of something quickly,” his mother said tartly as he went out.

Luella had moved instinctively, half blinded by tears, hurrying to the back of the inn and out into the sunshine. The rain had stopped an hour ago, though the blue sky overhead was still littered with clouds. Relieved to find somewhere she could be alone, Luella discovered a small courtyard garden, clearly used for outside dining in fine weather. It was a pretty spot, a little neglected at the moment, but small patches of daffodils and crocus lent the area colour, and it was sheltered from the rather brisk wind that had picked up.

It was private too, which was all she wanted at that moment. The noise of the busy inn was muted to a dull murmur. Luella leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, annoyed at herself for her show of emotion, especially in front of him. She wiped irritably at her wet eyes and tried to compose herself. Much to her dismay, the tears kept coming.

Two pounds. Good Lord. However, was she to provide for them on that? Jack would be fifteen by the time she was free of this situation, of course. That was quite old enough to earn a man’s wage, but she had wanted better for him. What if Lord Buchanan insisted on him staying at Wildsyde until he was four and twenty? The man seemed determine to honour the ridiculous will, if for no other reason than to spite her. Jack was a bright boy who loved to read, and the moment she had heard of her inheritance she’d nurtured dreams of seeing him go to university, of making something of himself. She wanted the name of Fulbright to mean something other than it did now, a name associated with chicanery, and double dealing. But how on earth was she to make that happen?

The door to the inn pushed open and Luella turned sharply, standing straighter as she discovered Lord Buchanan filling the doorway. He sighed, with the air of a man doing an unpleasant duty and closed the door behind him.

“We need to talk, I reckon,” he said grimly, giving her a curious glance. “What are ye weeping about?”

“None of your business,” she snapped, furious with herself for allowing him to discover her looking so weak.

“As ye are my ward and yer welfare my concern, it is my business, though,” he said, though the words did not appear to please him anymore than they did her.

Luella snorted. “Lord Buchanan, we both know my father was a crook and that if I could afford a decent lawyer, he would prove that fact in no time at all. Why in the name of heaven don’t you employ someone and free us both from a situation which can only make everyone involved miserable?”

He gave a grunt, which might have been a sound of amusement; she wasn’t sure.

“I have been asking myself the same question, but I have nae a grand opinion of lawyers, and I am nae sure decent is the word ye are looking for. Clever, perhaps.”

“Very well, if you want to be pedantic about it, find a clever lawyer and set us all free.”

“And have the world believe the lies that Lilith put about, that I beat her and kept her on bread and water, kept her prisoner in that pretty house I gave her?” He made a harsh sound in the back of his throat and shook his head. “I’m nae gonna dae that.”

“She said what?” Luella said with a gasp.

He returned a sceptical glance. “Och, dinnae act like ye knew nothing about it.”

“But I didn’t,” she said in horror, pushing away from the wall and taking a step closer to him. “Good Lord. No wonder you hate us so.”

“Hmph,” he said, frowning. “I dinnae hate ye, either of ye. I just dinnae trust ye, and with good reason, aye?”

She nodded, understanding that much without difficulty. “I know it won’t help, and that you won’t believe me, but I am sorry. I’m sorry you ever got involved with our family, and especially Lilith. She always rather frightened me,” she admitted. “I never knew what she would take it into her head to do next. The only good thing about the disparity in our situations was that I saw little of her, unless she came for a visit and to queen it over me in her lovely gowns.”

“Aye, I can imagine she enjoyed that. She liked it when people were envious of her.”

Luella nodded, remembering such times and her own burning pride, wishing she could one day put Lilith in her place. Well, she had never had the chance to do so, for Lilith had overreached and come to a desperate end.

“I understand, ye know.”

Luella looked up at him. “What do you mean?”