Page 42 of Return to Wildsyde

“Ready when you are,” she said brightly.

Lyall grunted and said goodbye to Murdoch, careful to ensure he was shut in and couldn’t follow before he strode out of the castle, and wondered if Luella would be able to keep up.

“Why aren’t you riding?” she asked, as he whistled for Moire and Maggie, who materialised out of nowhere, barking with pleasure at the realisation they were going for a walk.

He shrugged. “I like to walk sometimes.”

“I do too,” she said conversationally. “Not that I knew that until I came here. Walking in London was not at all like walking here.”

Lyall heard the pleasure in her voice and wondered at it. “Ye like it here, then?”

“Like it?” she said, her expression one of such shock he wondered what he’d said. “I love it here. It’s so… so beautiful and peaceful,” she said with obvious sincerity.

It surprised him that she was happy here. Lilith had hated it with a passion, constantly demanding he take her to London.

“But there is nae society. Ye have to go to Wick for even basic shopping, there are hardly ever balls or parties or—”

She gave a burst of laughter, which made him stare at her.

“I beg your pardon,” she said ruefully. “But what exactly did you think I was doing before we came here? We lived in a horrid apartment, and I shared a room with my brother. There were no parties or balls, not that I care about that. Though it might be nice to wear pretty dresses and dance, I suppose,” she added guilelessly.

“We have the odd dance. Not so many as when Ma was mistress, mind,” Lyall admitted. “But harvest time and Christmas, ye know. Celebration times.”

“At the castle?”

Lyall nodded, touched by the innocent happiness that lit her eyes. “Aye. It’s tradition. My parents had Wildsyde until Da became Earl. Then they had to move to an even bigger and draughtier castle,” he added with a smile. “But Ma loves dancing and parties and Da will let her have anything that pleases her, so there were often celebrations here. I’ve kept some of them up, or else the staff and the tenants and the neighbours nag me day and night asking why not,” he said with a snort.

“I cannot wait to see the castle decorated for Christmas,” she said eagerly, her eyes shining with anticipation, although it was half the year away yet. “Do you put up greenery and ribbons and clove-studded oranges and—”

“Aye,” he said, turning to give her an odd look. “Have ye never done so?”

She blushed and looked away. “When I was a little girl, when my mother lived and before… before Pa lost everything. Then I have memories of the scent of pine and greenery over the mantelpiece. Presents, even,” she said with a sigh. Her face fell then, all the happiness fading. “It seems such a long time ago.”

Lyall frowned, disliking the way his chest tightened at her words. So what if she’d had a wretched time? So what if her father had been a conman and left his children in a ridiculous situation? He was the one suffering for it, not her. “Well, ye will have the chance to do it again this Christmas. Ye may decorate as much as ye like. Just sort it out with Mrs Baillie, aye?”

“Really? Can I?” He jolted as her slender hand grasped his arm, holding on tight.

“Aye,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “If it pleases ye, ye may decorate the auld place to yer heart’s content. Just… stay out of my study,” he added anxiously. “And only red ribbons, aye?”

She gave him an odd look but nodded happily before leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“Thank you so much,” she said, and then walked on as if nothing had happened.

Lyall stood frozen, watched her go, refusing to raise his hand and touch the place where her lips had pressed against his cheek. The simple touch seemed to linger still, the feel of her mouth on his skin remaining though she had gone. The sensation filtered into his blood, making his pulse quicken. She turned back, realising he hadn’t followed her and giving him a quizzical look.

“Are you coming, then?” she called out.

“Aye, lass,” he said under his breath, striding after him. “But where are ye leading me? That’s what I’d like to know.”

Chapter 14

He’s home! Thank God, Thank God. He is home and safe and well. I have never been so glad of anything in my life. I have been so terribly afraid, Prue. I tried so hard not to think the worst but late at night my imagination would conjure all the worst thoughts of what might have happened until I was inconsolable. Poor Lucian has had a terrible time of it. I thank God for Gabriel, who has been such a tower of strength to him and to our family and thank Robert so very much for everything he did, too. How he kept any reports from reaching the press or allowing them to publish, at least, I do not know, but we are so grateful.

Tommy has been silent about what happened, short of telling us he was attacked and badly beaten, and if not for the kindness of the woman who took him in, he might have ended in a sorrier state. I want so much to thank her for her kindness, but it seems she has now disappeared too. I rather think this is a blow to my son, but as ever, he keeps his own council.

The only good thing that has emerged out of all the days of worry and stress was the introduction of darling Tilly to our family. I could cheerfully murder Philip for being such a damned fool, but I suppose I can understand his feelings, especially concerning his father. He is in such awe of Lucian and always has been the poor boy. Yet I am proud of all he has achieved. We had quite a scene, I can tell you, but I shall explain all in person. There is too much to put in a letter.

―Excerpt of a letter to Her Grace, Prunella Adolphus, The Duchess of Bedwin from The Most Hon’ble Matilda Barrington, The Marchioness of Montagu.