Ann Lethbridge - One Night with the Highlander

Their visitor sat back with a jerky nod. “And her no better than she should be, by all accounts. Not the sort of woman you should be admitting to the house, Lady Jenna.”

Gordon felt his blood growing hotter by the second. Anger at the insinuations made his hands clench. But now he recalled why the name Merton had sounded familiar. One of his correspondents had regaled him with stories of the seductive Lady Merton. Rumors of a stable of young men at her every beck and call. Bile rose in Gordon’s throat at the things he’d heard as he now tried to associate them with Annabelle.

Jenna’s eyes had narrowed to slits of glittering green. “I met her the first year I arrived here. She was very kind.”

Mrs. Tracey snorted, one of those scornful sounds made by those of a righteous disposition. “You must think of Lady Jenna’s reputation, Mr. McLaughlin. A young lady of her breeding must not be exposed to a whiff of scandal.”

Gordon put down his cup to free his hands so he could put them around the gossiping woman’s throat. Thinking better of it, he picked it up again. “I thank you for your advice.” He drew in a steadying breath. “It was most kind of you to call on Lady Jenna, but I must say she is looking a little pulled. The last few weeks have been hard on her. “

Jenna’s startled eyes swiveled to his face.

He gave her a concerned smile. “The doctor advised plenty of rest. Is that not so, dear cousin?”

Quick to get the message in his eyes, she put the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, yes. Oh dear, I am quite exhausted.”

Mrs. Tracey put down her cup with a tight smile. “Indeed. Mr. Tracey said only the other day you were sterling in Mrs. Blackstone’s hours of need. Most creditable. Which is why...” She glanced at Gordon and pressed her lips together. “Enough said. A word to the wise is all that is needed.” She rose to her feet.

Gordon got up and Jenna started to rise.

“It is all right, Jenna,” he said with great solicitation, “I will see our guest to the door. So very kind of you to come all this way, Mrs. Tracey,” he murmured, ushering her out of the room. “Much appreciated.”

Behind him he was aware of Jenna’s attempt to suppress her laughter.

Fortunately for him, the housekeeper was already in the hall with their visitor’s wrap and, once their guest was garbed, opened the door with a flourish. And closed it behind her with a bit more force than was necessary. “Gossipy old crone.”

Gordon raised a brow.

“That’s what my mistress always called her,” the housekeeper said. “And she knew people, Mrs. Blackstone did.”

Yes, Mrs. Blackstone had been no one’s fool. Gordon returned to the parlor.

Jenna was laid out on the sofa with her hands crossed on her chest.

Gordon’s heart dipped. “Jenna? Are you all right?”

She sat up, grinning. “Practicing my die-away airs for my come out next season. Really, Gordon, you do tell some bouncers.”

He grinned in turn and sat down. But the woman’s poisonous words lingered in the air, reminding him of his duty. “Shall I drop Lady Merton a wee note telling her you will no be at home tomorrow?”

Jenna glared at him. “Certainly not. That would make us as bad at That Woman.”

He grimaced. The things he had heard did not reflect well on Lady Merton. He just hadn’t realized the source of gossip was his Annabelle. His Annabelle? She had never really been his. “They do say where there’s smoke...”

“There’s fire.” Jenna wrinkled her nose. “What do you think?”

He didn’t want to believe the rumors about Annabelle. He wanted to remember her as the girl he’d met years before. And yet... He took a deep breath. “I think people are innocent until proven guilty.”

Jenna nodded approval. “I, too, think she deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

The way his heart leaped at the knowledge that he would see her again clearly meant his reasons had not been completely altruistic.

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