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Tears stung Jo’s eyes, but she drew herself up.
‘I am not sulking. I am tired.’
Beth did not argue. Perhaps recalling her position, she merely curtsied and left the room, but the door closed with a distinct snap and Jo sank back on to the chair in front of the mirror. She could not explain it to Beth.
* * *
She had no idea how long she had sat there when the door bounced open and Benneit strode in without even knocking.
Jo stood and straightened her shoulders. She had been expecting some response, but not a personal appearance from a very irate Duke. Especially not after the events of that day.
It was not at all helpful that he looked utterly, breathtakingly handsome. She had seen him in a short kilt before when he was about the castle and the estate, but this was clearly full ceremonial dress, the orange-tartan kilt drawn over the dark blue coat and white shirt, its contrasting colours stretched across his formidable chest and over his shoulder, making him look even larger than usual, and the deep, burnt shades of orange accentuating the green of his eyes and his raven hair. She had thought him magnificent enough in evening dress, but the Duke of Lochmore in a long kilt was something else entirely.
The annoyance on his face faltered and his forward motion flagged. He stopped in the middle of the room, his gaze raking over her from her head to the tips of her kid slippers peeking from beneath the high embroidered flounce.
‘Your Grace?’ she prompted as he remained silent.
‘I...’ He took another step forward and stopped again, the frown returning. ‘What is this about not coming down?’
‘I have decided it is quite unnecessary.’
‘Unnecessary? What on earth does that have to say to anything? In less than an hour half of the Highlands will be gathering below.’
‘Precisely. One person more or less will hardly be noticed.’ She did not add—certainly not this person. ‘I am perfectly happy staying...’
Benneit drew himself up, clearly struggling to hold the reins of his temper.
‘The point is not to make you happy, Jo... Mrs Langdale. The point is that you are Bella’s cousin and it would be considered da—deuced odd of you to be hiding in the nursery while I entertained our neighbours, especially when they all naturally expect to see you. And Mrs Merry will be mortally offended that after all the effort she and Beth went to regarding your dress you might as well be feeding it to the sheep. If you wish to sit down to breakfast tomorrow with that on your conscience, then go and hide... No, that is not an option. You will come down right now and smile at the guests!’
He looked on the verge of stamping his foot like Jamie. She wished he would, because his upward spiral of annoyance was unravelling her discomfort. This, she was familiar with. The impossible embarrassment at the events on the beach receded, revealing the simple truth—she did not want to stay in her room. She wanted to go down into the light and the laughter, dressed in her beautiful gown. She might soon lose everything she cared for, but she could take some of it with her, gather her memories like Jamie gathered treasures, and for that she must be brave.
‘Very well.’
‘You will?’
She looked at herself in the mirror.
‘You are right. Mrs Merry and Beth would be very offended. It would probably affect Beth’s enjoyment of the ball.’
‘I had not realised she is attending the ball as well.’ There was that reluctant smile in his voice that always made her mouth want to curve in response. This time she allowed it.
‘Every servant in the castle house takes part in it, even if only by listening to what the footmen report when they go to the keep to fetch more food and wine. And Beth is very possessive of this dress, having had such a say in its creation. Apparently she has even asked Ewan to tell her who dances with her dress.’
‘You, I hope.’ His smile flashed, easing the glower further.
‘I am merely a vessel. Her dress will be the attraction. As such whoever dances with me becomes Beth’s possession.’
‘Good God, that is mawkish. I hope Mrs Merry is keeping a tight leash on Beth’s imagination. I don’t want her falling into trouble.’
‘Beth is far too clever. She knows the difference between a dream and a loaf of bread. She has her sights on Angus.’
