Kieran Kramer - If You Give A Girl A Viscount

“Has he spoken to Cassandra this morning?” she asked, looking breathless and beautiful.

“I’ve no idea.” Charlie wanted to get his hands and mouth on her and make her feel perfect again. “We got down here earlier than I expected we would. Mr. King, I’m not surprised to find out, is an early riser. I think Cassandra was still asleep when we left.”

Daisy bit her lip.

“Is something on your mind?”

“Actually, yes.” And she proceeded to tell him about Miss Perdita’s new role.

“That’s absurd,” he said. “She can’t play the son of a son of a Highland chief.”

“But the guests only saw her last night at dinner, and she didn’t speak. I’m going to tell them the female Perdita is indisposed.”

“She can’t carry this off.” It was an obvious fact: she was a woman, although even Charlie had had his doubts when he’d first met her.

“You wouldn’t believe how different she looks in the kilt,” Daisy went on. “It was easy enough to strap down her, um—”

“I know what you mean.”

Daisy’s cheeks reddened further. “And since it’s the old-fashioned kind, she has a massive tartan sash up there, too. It …” She trailed off.

“It disguises her femininity even more,” Charlie said.

“Exactly.” Daisy chuckled. “As for her hair, it’s frizzy and easy to shove into a hat. I’ve got her a lovely hunting cap—she’s itching to test her skill, you know, so the guests will believe she’s entirely dedicated to the sport.”

“But she’s English!”

“She’s only allowed to say a few words: aye, nay, and slainte . We practiced. She’ll sound completely brutish and fierce and Scottish. She’s thrilled to be able to drink whisky and smoke a cheroot. The visitors will be in awe.”

“I suppose that small mustache she has helps, as well,” Charlie muttered.

Daisy put her hand to her mouth and giggled. “I think it does. Even so, I burned a cork and rubbed it into her jaw to make her a bit swarthier.”

She stopped giggling rather abruptly, Charlie thought, and her eyes were suddenly bright. “What is it?” he asked her.

Daisy shook her head. “Just that I’ve never seen Perdita so … happy. She was proud to be in that kilt. And she couldn’t stop talking about Mr. King and how she couldn’t wait to hunt with him. She wondered if maybe he’d talk to her more when she was dressed like a man.” She sighed. “It’s a shame she can’t dress like that all the time. She was a delight. She even hugged me at the end. And it felt … genuine.”

“Interesting.” Charlie chuckled. “So you’ve discovered something nice about her.”

“I really don’t know what to think,” Daisy said.

“About what?”

“About getting rid of her along with Mona and Cassandra.”

“Play it by ear,” Charlie said. “Imagine what she’ll be like after the men depart and she has to get back into a gown.”

“You’re right,” Daisy said with a sigh. “I won’t get my hopes up.”

“You always get your hopes up.”

“I can’t help it. She’s my stepsister.”

“And that’s very kind of you. How did your stepmother take the change in her appearance?”

“Mona merely sneered. Which means she doesn’t care one way or the other. She’s too preoccupied attempting to win over Mr. Woo.”

“Mr. Woo?”

“Yes, she fancies him.”

“Poor fellow.”

“She’s heard he’s the richest of the lot. And free to marry.”

“Is he?”

“I’ve no idea. I made it up.”

“You minx!”

“I needed to distract her from Perdy’s situation. And it certainly worked.”

“You don’t feel guilty about subjecting Mr. Woo to your stepmother’s increased attentions?”

“Not in the least. He can hold his own.”

Charlie circled her waist with his hands. “I’m not even sure you went to sleep last night. How miserable for us both that the secret corridor makes it extremely easy for me to get to your room unseen. I might have to join you in bed again tonight and every night until the whole damned Highland experience is over.”

She pushed his hands off her waist. “Oh, and one other thing. Perdita certainly can’t have Mr. King.”

“So you’ve nothing to say about our bedding down together?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks reddened, and she looked at him with serious eyes. “I’m sorry. But we can’t do what we did last night every night.”

“You said that once before and changed your mind.”

“You and I both know we can’t keep playing with fire.” Her tone was more pert than stern. “Because Cassandra and my stepmother can never find out.”

“They won’t. Did you hear all the snoring going on last night? It’s not just Perdita.”

“I know. All three of them do. But as you’ve already said, what we did could lead to other things.”

“And as I’ve told you before, I would never, ever take such liberties, even with your permission, which”—he whispered into her ear—“I’d be able to get in less than thirty seconds, if you’d only let me try. I’m good, darling. Very good.”

“Listen closely.” She glowered at him. “Tonight, we’re not touching each other. Is that clear? Last night was an accident. I was so exhausted I wasn’t prepared to resist your, um, dubious charms.”

“Dubious? Are you sure you didn’t mean to say countless ?”

She bit her lip and glanced away from him, refusing to answer.

“I know I wasn’t prepared to resist your charms, either,” he said, “which aren’t dubious in the least. Especially now.” He took a secret peek down her bodice.

“Somehow I wonder if you’re taking me seriously.”

“Oh, I am.”

She stared at him a few seconds longer.

He stared fixedly back.

“I saw that,” she said.

“What?”

“You looking down my bodice.” Whenever her honey-bee voice grew thicker, he knew exactly what she was thinking of, and it delighted him no end. “Now what were we talking about before?”

She was adept at switching subjects.

“Perdita.” He’d play along. Flirting with Daisy and not being able to follow through was taking a toll on him. “I hate to say this, but her chances of winning Mr. King’s admiration are even lower now than they were before she donned the kilt. And her chances then were zero, so …”

“Oh,” Daisy replied, as if she had a very big secret to reveal, “I meant that she can’t have him because—even if she were the most beautiful woman in the world—”

She hesitated.

He’d play along again. “What?”

“I’m saving him for Cassandra.”

“ You’re saving him? For Cassandra?”

She sighed. “Can’t you see? They’re perfect together. Both vain. Both of them good-looking and selfish.”

So that’s why she’d been so attentive to Mr. King! The little jealous part of Charlie that he’d been ignoring came roaring to the surface, like a quail beat out of the bush, and he was glad to shoot it down. “Are you sure you want him for Cassandra?”

Daisy made an astonished face. “Why, it’s obvious they’re an ideal match.”

“Good. Did you know the braggart and I get along very well? I’ve even forgiven him his unduly high shirt points and the intricate way he ties his cravats, as if he’s a mummy bound to escape unless he’s restrained.”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I hope you do, Charlie, because I can’t afford for him to be upset about anything.”

Mr. King himself strolled up then, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. “Are you ready for our competition, Lord Lumley? We’re to pick out our sheep and sharpen the shears. Your shepherd said that’ll get our nerves properly frayed.”