Page 51 of Return to Wildsyde

“Luella, I want ye, so much… I—”

The door to the study opened, lamplight spilling over them as they looked up to see Mrs MacLeod, stricken, gazing at them in horror.

“My lord!” she exclaimed.

“Christ almighty,” Lyall growled, and pushed to his feet, leaving Luella to grab for her nightgown to cover herself.

He stood, rigid with anger, and Luella knew before he spoke what he was thinking. He looked between them, and Luella shook her head, misery clogging her throat, for she knew he would never believe she hadn’t arranged it, hadn’t made some pact with Mrs MacLeod to capture him as he had been caught before.

“And there I was thinking I was safe in my own home. Ye must think me a fool and damn me for proving ye right. I’ll nae do it, Luella. I don’t care what anyone says of either of us. Ye may go to the devil.”

He strode out, leaving Mrs MacLeod gaping with appalled amazement and Luella in a fog of despair and regret so profound she could see no way out. Wordlessly she tugged her nightgown back on and got up, hardly able to look Mrs MacLeod in the eye.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gone in the morning, but I’m sure Lord Buchanan will keep you on for Jack’s sake. You… You’ll look after him for me?”

Mrs MacLeod’s lips were pursed in a disapproving line, but her expression softened a little at that. She nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Luella said, her voice choked, and fled.

Chapter 17

The dress worked a charm, I reckon, though the stubborn gowk is still acting like she’s cut from the same cloth as Lilith. I feel bad about it, but I dare not speak to him. Ye son is a stubborn devil, but he’s made in his father’s image. I’m keeping everything crossed that he comes to his senses. The poor girl is so in love with him it’s pitiful.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mrs Sheenagh Baillie to The Right Hon’ble Ruth Anderson, The Countess of Morven.

31st July 1845, Wildsyde Castle, Highlands of Scotland.

Luella slipped the letter under Jack’s door, praying that he would forgive her for leaving like this, but she could not face Lyall again. The idea of seeing disgust in his face, of hearing him throw further accusations at her… it was all too much. She would break down and cry and she still had a little pride that she refused to let him take from her. Bad enough that she must steal from him, but there was no help for it. He already thought the worst, so why not hammer the point home and let him believe she was the scheming bitch he always believed her to be? She knew he kept a few pounds in a locked box in his desk drawer, and she’d seen where he kept the key. He could consider it an advance on her inheritance, she thought bitterly.

It was not as early as she’d hoped to get away, as she made her way down the stairs, but Mr Clugston had mentioned going into Wick this morning after breakfast, and she intended to go with him. With luck, she could get away before anyone noticed. By the time Clugston got back with the news he’d left her in town, she ought to have found some transport to get her away from here. To where, she had no clue, but she could not stay. At least she had some skills to get a job now, and she could always forge a letter of recommendation. She was her father’s daughter, after all.

Wearily, Luella set the carpetbag stuffed with her belongings down out of sight. The tartan-trimmed gown was still up in her room, for she had known she could not stand to see it again, let alone wear it. Her head ached at the thought of everything she was facing, and she felt utterly exhausted. The only sleep she had managed had been disturbed by the dream, which she now understood all too well. She had been searching for something from the start, running from her past and seeking a home in a world fraught with danger. The dream had changed when she had met Lyall, for then she had run through the darkness with a purpose in mind, running towards him, towards the love and safety she instinctively knew he could provide for her and Jack. How foolish dreams were, yet last night the safety she had sought had been missing, and she simply ran endlessly through the darkness with no glimmer of light to guide her.

Despair settled over her as she wondered what on earth she would do, where would she go? With regret, she realised that Mrs Baillie and Lady Morven would also think the worst now, and that hurt. Losing their good opinion was hard to bear, but she was no delicate flower. She never had been fragile, she was strong and determined and she would survive, somehow.

With a glance up and down the corridor to check no one was around, she walked to Lyall’s study. She was about to reach for the handle when there was a knock at the front door. Muttering a curse and praying no one else had heard her, Luella turned and hurried to answer the knock.

A well dressed and very handsome young man stood on the threshold. He looked rumpled and rather weary, as if he’d spent a considerable time in the carriage behind him, but upon seeing her, he snatched the hat from his head and smiled. Luella mentally upgraded him from handsome to utterly gorgeous.

“Can I help you?” she asked, praying she could send him away quickly. His expression became brighter still upon hearing her speak.

“I do hope so, for I have been scouring the country. Looking for you, I think, Miss Fulbright? You are Miss Fulbright? You certainly match the description I was given and you’re English, so I assumed—”

“Yes, I am she,” Luella replied, perplexed.

“Thank heavens,” he said with a sigh. “Might I come in? I have something of great importance to discuss with you.”

“No,” Luella said shortly. “But if you want to drive me to Wick, or to anywhere, actually, you can talk to me on the way.”

“Oh.” The man looked rather at a loss. “I was hoping to see Lord Buchanan too, he’s an old friend, you see, and—”

“You said it was important, Mr…?”

“Mr Knight, Felix Knight,” the man said, extending his hand to her.

Luella shook it, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone had noticed there was a visitor yet. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr Knight, but you have precisely one minute to decide what to do. I am leaving Wildsyde now. This instant, so—”

“Then I’ll take you wherever you wish to go!” he exclaimed.