Page 9 of Return to Wildsyde

“No. My husband’s estate is some distance away, sadly, but I am staying until… well, until I believe I am no longer needed.”

“To stop his lordship from throwing us into the nearest loch?” Luella said, before she could think better of the rather unguarded comment.

The countess paused and gave Luella a hard look. “Miss Fulbright, I will not insult you by pretending we are not all aware of the trick your cousin served my son, nor of her subsequent behaviour. I am prepared to give you a chance, just one mind, but my son was ill-used by both Lilith and her parents, and you must forgive him for suspecting you and your motives.”

“Motives?” Luella replied with a laugh. “What motives? We had no choice but to come. Do you believe we wished to?”

Luella felt stripped bare under the countess's scrutiny. This was a woman to be reckoned with, and no fool.

“No. I do not believe that, but even that is only my opinion, not certainty. However, I will tell you my son is a good man, not prone to cruelty or mistreating anyone, and however hard and unyielding he may seem at first, he will not be unfair if you do as he asks of you.”

“What is he likely to ask?” Luella demanded, her stomach tightening into a swift and painful knot.

“To stay out of his way, most likely,” the countess replied dryly, and carried on walking.

The corridors were dim now as the light faded outside, but there were thick rugs underfoot, and the scent of furniture polish and the faint hint of wood smoke lingered on the air.

Luella stared at the bedroom the countess showed her into with undisguised astonishment.

“This… This is my room?” she asked, her voice trembling. “All mine? But Jack—”

“Your brother is next door. I assumed you would wish to be next to each other,” the countess said, watching her with interest.

Luella knew she was being observed but could not hide her reaction, a fact that would have galled her father. To have control over one’s emotions was a principal talent if you were inclined to swindle those around you. It would not do for people to know you were pleased or disheartened when the stakes were high. But Luella did not wish to dissemble ever again, and she could not veil her pleasure at the thought of staying in this beautiful room.

Luella glanced at her brother, whose eyes were almost out on stalks, and found to her dismay that her vision was blurring with tears. The room was bright, with whitewashed walls and a large oak framed bed with a pattern of thistles carved into the headboard. There were pristine white linen sheets on the bed and thick tartan blankets. A handsome chest of drawers and matching wardrobe were more than ample for her meagre belongings and there were several paintings on the walls that looked to be local scenes. One was of a romantic-looking ruined castle with the sea glimmering behind it.

Overwhelmed, Luella walked to the window and looked out, gasping as she saw the vista beyond. The sun would soon begin its slow descent, and already gilded the world around them in shades of copper and bronze and gold. Compared to everything she had known before, it looked like a fairyland, like something described in the pages of a book. Her heart clenched, wondering if there was any way she could stop Lord Buchanan from hating her, for the idea of leaving such a place and returning to the soot and filth of London was not appealing in this moment.

“At home I could see a brick wall from my bedroom,” she murmured.

“Where did you live?” the countess asked.

“Tottenham Court Road. We had rooms there, on the fifth floor. It was… very different,” she finished helplessly, unable to think of words to describe just how different, how she was all adrift and nothing was as she expected it to be. What had she expected, though? A dreary haunted castle and to be locked in a room and fed on bread and water? She hardly knew.

Her brother’s room was the twin of hers, both with fires crackling merrily in the hearth. The very idea of a fire in her bedroom in the dead of winter would have been extravagant to Luella these past years, but in May it would have been unheard of.

“I’m afraid the castle is rather cold, so we often need fires lit in the bedrooms, at least in the evening, right through until the end of June. The downstairs rooms require it almost year-round,” she added with a laugh. “Unless the weather is particularly hot. Now, I shall have some tea sent to your room, Luella, for you and your brother, and I will send for you in about half an hour to meet Lord Buchanan. Does that suit?”

“Yes, my lady. Thank you.”

The countess nodded, giving Jack a quick smile, for the boy looked pale and anxious.

“Don’t worry,” she said kindly. “We did not beat his lordship as a child, for neither myself nor my husband believes in such retribution, and neither does Lord Buchanan. You’ll not be ill-treated.”

Some of the tension left Jack’s stiff shoulders, and the countess patted his arm before she carried on to the door. She looked back at them before she left.

“Though that does not mean he’ll brook any nonsense or unacceptable behaviour, so I suggest you don’t try it.”

“Well?” Lyall demanded as his mother returned to his study.

She said nothing, taking her time to sit herself down and smooth out her skirts. Lyall gritted his teeth, knowing she was doing it on purpose. Her eyes twinkled as she met his gaze.

“Well, if you were so eager to learn what they were like, I would think you might have bestirred yourself to greet them,” she said tartly.

“Fine, dinnae tell me,” he said, folding his arms.

Sighing, she sent him an exasperated look. “She’s not a beauty like Lilith, for one thing,” she said.