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Cordelia turned to Lucy. “Have you seen him smile?” All the ladies followed her gaze.
Lucy thought of the softness that had come to Greer’s mouth when she teased him. And the look of sweet indulgence as he let Pip lick his chin. “No. I have not seen him smile,” she answered, which wasn’t a lie. “He always looks ornery enough to bite the wings off little sparrows.” Which was a lie, but it had the desired effect because several ladies gasped, their eyes growing large. Lucy shook her head. “Think what he’d do to punish an impudent woman.” She shivered dramatically and looked away from Greer. “I imagine he’d be a cruel lover.”
The carriages shook as they started to rumble across the cobblestone in the cold winter air, making all the ladies grab hold of the sides or seats.
Pretending to glance up the winter streets, Lucy noticed that Greer rode several rows behind Lord Walsingham, and William Darby and his father rode behind Greer. William’s frown bounced between the Highlander and her. ’Twas his own fault if he was angry that Greer had escorted her last night.
Westminster Church was close enough that they could have walked, but the queen wanted to arrive in stately style and their satin shoes would be marred by the snow. The horses came to a stop, and the ladies filed out of the open-air coach with the assistance of the royal footman. Cordelia leaned toward Lucy’s ear. “You like him, don’t you?”
Lucy’s gaze turned to her. “Who?”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Greer Buchanan. He helped you with the dogs, and you just tried to throw the ladies off his scent.”
“None of that means I like the man,” Lucy whispered back. “At least not the way you’re insinuating.”
“See that you don’t,” Cordelia said, clutching her cloak closed against the cold breeze. “I already lost Maggie to Scotland. I won’t stand to lose my sister as well.”
Lucy pulled the small purse of coins from her pocket to hand out to the poor as they entered. Each of the ladies had been fashioned with them, but Lucy had added coins of her own. “Cease such ill talk on this fine Christmas morning,” Lucy said, pulling her most brilliant smile up from her core of merriment. Her father had once told her that her cheerfulness and smile were her best assets. What would he think of the ruined Cranfield name?
A touch of her elbow made Lucy turn, but her smile wavered when she saw William. Greer stood much farther behind with Anne and Margaret. Apparently, Lucy’s warning had only enticed the boldest ladies.
William leaned toward her ear. “I didn’t tell Walsingham about the dogs. Only that you headed out to feed the poor last night dressed as a lad.”
“Thank you,” she said, relief lowering her tight shoulders.
“I’m not heartless,” William said.
“I know. You’re just…too honorable sometimes.” She blushed slightly at what he might construe from her words, but there was no time to correct things. Elizabeth was walking toward the cathedral, and they all must fall in line behind her. Lucy walked slowly, pressing coins into the hands of the people lining the walk. Her smile widened as she saw Catherine, Alyce, and Nick peering at her from around several men.
“Merry Christmastide,” she said to them and pressed coins in their little hands.
“Merry Christmastide, milady,” Catherine called cheerfully, and Nick and Alyce bowed and bobbed. Lucy would bring them some remains from the feast at Whitehall and had gained permission to bring them up for one of the fetes.
“Merry Christmas,” a deep voice said behind Lucy, and her inhale stuttered. She turned to see Greer. Up close he was even more handsome in his crisp Highland costume. His hair was dark and given to curl. It looked slightly damp as if he’d bathed that morning. He too pressed a coin into each child’s hand, along with the women and men nearby. His arm brushed Lucy’s as he moved, and the touch felt like it drew her to him. As if his brawniness was a magnet.
“And Merry Christmastide to ye, Lady Lucy.” The deep voice held merriment in contrast to the serious expression he wore.
“You wish me merry when you seem quite the opposite,” she said, purposely separating her arm from his. “But thank you.” Lucy glanced about, noticing several ladies watching their exchange.
“Oh,” he said. “Do I look like someone who bites the wings off wee sparrows?”
Lucy felt the creep of warmth in her cheeks but met his gaze. She tipped her head, studying him. “You don’t look hungry at the moment, but you do look like you might toy with them before swooping in for the kill.”
He grunted slightly, and they walked together up the steps to enter the large church. The smell of candles filled the cold space, which always reminded Lucy of the tombs under the polished stone floors.
“I must keep close watch,” Greer said. “Have a safe and merry day.” He bowed his head to her and went to turn away.
“Good day to you, too, sir,” Lucy said.
Greer paused and turned back, quickly whispering in her ear. “And I’m a very generous lover, Lucy. Never cruel, no matter how hungry I become.”
Before she could draw in a shaky breath, Greer pivoted and strode along the back row of pews, his gaze scanning each aisle. Cordelia took Lucy’s arm, pulling her along to join the ladies, where Lucy was reminded that secrets didn’t remain hidden for very long at court.
*
“Do men ofhigh rank wear your particular costume in Edinburgh?” Lord Leicester asked Greer where they stood outside the Great Hall. “At court?”
Lord Leicester was dressed like a peacock in bright greens and blues. There were even peacock feathers jutting from his tall cap made of matching silk.
