Page 15 of Miss Murchison’s Mistletoe Memories

He knew where they were going.

His mother had outlined her plans at breakfast, before he had excused himself on the pretext of urgent business matters. They would make morning calls to Lady Westmoreland and Mrs. Chamberlain — both influential matrons whose approval could ease Èibhlin’s entry into society, or whose disapproval could make it nearly impossible.

He frowned, raking a hand through his hair. Lady Westmoreland was reasonable enough, if somewhat rigid in her adherence to social niceties.

But Mrs. Chamberlain was another matter entirely — sharp-tongued and quick to judge, particularly where young women from the periphery of society were concerned. And the fact that Èibhlin was Scottish would only give Mrs. Chamberlain more ammunition.

“I should be there,” he muttered, turning back to his desk.

He found that thought somewhat startling – it was not any of his business to be involved in his mother’s efforts to introduce Èibhlin to society, yet it was the thought which had immediately come to the surface of his mind. But he knew that his presence would only complicate matters.

His mother was already watching him too closely, as she did whenever he was in the proximity of a young lady, her sharp eyes noting every glance, every small courtesy he extended to Èibhlin.

If he were to accompany them on these visits, showing particular attention to her, it would only fuel his mother’s suspicions — and potentially damage Èibhlin’s standing before she’d had a chance to establish herself.

His mother’s determination to choose the woman that Niall would marry, and to prevent him from even having a friendship with a young woman that she considered unsuitable for him, was proving to be far more annoying than he had expected.

But this was not the time to set himself against his mother – to do so would benefit no one at this point.

No, better to stay away, to maintain the pretence of indifference while his mother introduced Èibhlin to society.

It was the sensible course, the proper course.

Yet as he heard the carriage pull away, he could not shake the feeling that he was failing Èibhlin somehow, leaving her to face the subtle cruelties of London society without his support. He only hoped that her natural grace and intelligence would be sufficient armour against the barbs that she would inevitably face.

In truth, he didn’t understand why he cared so much, why he felt driven to speak with her, and to protect her. He had no reason to do so, after all. But then, even when she’d been still a child, he’d felt the need to protect her, as well as simply enjoy her genuine company.

With a sigh, he turned back to his neglected correspondence.

The sooner he finished his work, the sooner he might, perhaps, find a legitimate reason to seek her out upon her return, if only to reassure himself that she had suffered no ill effects from the focussed attention of the matrons of society.

*****

Two hours later, his correspondence was still incomplete, and Niall rose, irritated, and took himself off to his club.

Perhaps some quiet conversation with other gentlemen, about estate management, or hunting, or anything that wasn’t preparations for social events, and the assessment of which man might make a good match for Èibhlin, would settle his mind and allow him to concentrate when he returned.