Ann Lethbridge - The Laird's Forbidden Lady

His cheeks flushed a little red. ‘Thank you, Lady Selina.’ He strode away.

A proud man, but even so she had managed him quite nicely. And so what if he took it upon himself to provide the teacher and charge her father

for the furniture? The children would have their schooling.

That was all that mattered. A feeling of satisfaction filled her. A sense of a job well done, despite his reaction. Perhaps the people of Dunross would recognise her father’s generosity, even if their Laird would not.

And as for thinking he was going to kiss her, well … that was all in her imagination. More likely, he had wanted to tell her to go to hell, but had put the welfare of his people ahead of his own preferences.

Two days later, a fine drizzle hung over the hilly landscape like mist. It was almost as if the clouds, having brushed against the heather-clad hills, wanted to linger. There was no thinking about setting foot out of doors, not even in the carriage, so Selina stretched out on the sofa in the drawing room with a book to while away the hours until supper.

The drawing-room door opened and Chrissie bounced in. ‘You will never guess who is here.’

Selina put down her book. ‘Who?’

‘Lieutenant Dunstan.’

Her heart took an unpleasant dive. She hadn’t expected him quite so soon. But the sooner the better, surely?

‘Is he here to see me?’

‘He is with your father in his study.’ Chrissie clasped her hands together. ‘I am sure he is here to propose.’

Good news—then why did she feel a kind of panic? She wanted this. It had been all her idea. A new beginning after her accident. ‘Did Father send for me?’

Chrissie frowned. ‘No. But I am sure he will want to see you when they have concluded their business.’

Chrissie was as anxious for the marriage as Selina was herself. She hadn’t said anything, but she and Selina had occasionally disagreed on household matters. Until Father had finally told Selina it was no longer her concern.

It had been a painful truth.

She swung her feet to the ground and set her book aside. She patted her hair and smoothed her skirts, a pomona-green muslin. ‘Should I change, do you think?’

‘You look lovely,’ Chrissie said with a smile. ‘You always do.’

‘Thank you.’ Before her accident, she had taken her appearance for granted. More recently, she had felt unsure. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her steps as even as possible.

The antechamber to the study was empty. Mr Brunelle, her father’s secretary, must be inside with her father, taking notes, recording agreements. Should she knock and go in, or wait for them to come out?

As she dithered, the door to the study opened. She pinned a smile on her face.

‘Lady Selina!’ The lieutenant sounded surprised.

She glanced at her father.

He frowned. ‘Did you want something, daughter?’

Blast. It seemed she wasn’t expected, or wanted, which meant they had not been discussing the betrothal after all. A feeling of relief swept through her, even as she realised they were waiting for some sort of explanation.

Heat bloomed in her cheeks as her mind raced. ‘I heard Lieutenant Dunstan was here and came to bid him welcome.’ She hoped she didn’t sound too feeble. ‘To ask him to take tea with Lady Albright and me in the drawing room.’

Dunstan’s face lit up. ‘Very kind of you, Lady Selina, I must say. I fear I cannot take advantage on this occasion. I have urgent business in the neighbourhood and came to discuss it with your father as local magistrate.’

‘Trouble?’ she asked.

‘Selina,’ her father said in a warning tone.

‘Smugglers,’ Dunstan said at exactly the same moment.

‘Oh, my goodness, are there really such villains abroad around here?’ she said with a hand to her throat and a gasp. She gave him a glance that said in her mind he was a hero.

‘Don’t worry, Lady Selina, my regiment won’t let them escape us, I can assure you. You have nothing to fear.’ The paternalistic tone made her grit her teeth. But he was only trying to soothe the feminine nerves she had put on display and there was nothing in his manner she should resent.

She fluttered her lashes. ‘I am so glad you are in charge, then.’

He bowed, took her hand and kissed it. ‘Until we meet again.’

His touch left her cold, calm, uninvolved. No wild flutters invading her body—just as she preferred.

‘Lieutenant Dunstan is engaged to us for dinner next week, Selina,’ her father said. ‘There will be lots of time for chatter then.’

Next week. Her future would be settled next week. The delay felt like a reprieve from the hangman’s noose, when she should be impatient for it to start.

‘I will look forward to it,’ she said, giving him her most brilliant of smiles and watching him blush with a sense of foreboding. Had she made a mistake in this man? Was he weaker than she had thought? She wanted him malleable, it was true, but not spineless.

It was too late for second thoughts. Too late to change her mind. She had made her choice and must abide by it, or be deemed beyond the pale.

Dunstan turned back to Father. ‘This will be the end of them, I promise you. I bid you good afternoon, Lord Albright.’

With a sharp bow, he strode from the room, his spurs jingling with each booted step on the stone stairs leading down to the hall below.

‘The end of whom?’ Selina asked.

Her father waved her question aside. ‘You sounded over-anxious. You have done well to catch a man from such an important family. We don’t want to scare him off.’

‘Scare him off? I hardly think so,’ she drawled, hiding her hurt.

‘Two jilted suitors are enough to make any man think twice.’

It seemed the ton had a long memory. ‘I will be more circumspect next time he calls, Papa,’ she said, dipping a curtsy.

‘Good.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘If this thing goes well tonight, I believe I will have a buyer for Dunross, too.’

She gasped. ‘You are going to sell Dunross?’

‘Dunstan has no need of a keep in the wilds of Scotland. You don’t want to live here. With the proceeds, he can buy a country house close to his parents in Sussex and a house in town, just as you wanted.’

For some reason, she never thought Dunross would be sold. It was her dowry. She thought it would be settled on one of their children.

She frowned. ‘What does success catching the smugglers have to do with selling Dunross Keep?’

‘Ian Gilvry has been nothing but a thorn in my side and a deterrent to any serious purchaser. With him gone, we should get a good price.’

Her blood ran cold. All she could do was stare.

‘Well?’ her father said.

‘I … Nothing. I really should go back to Chrissie and tell her we are not expecting the lieutenant for tea.’

‘Never mind. I will join you instead.’

Blast. Now she needed to let the housekeeper know to deliver a tray to the drawing room, when what she wanted to do was be alone to think.

Selina thumped at her pillow, sure someone had put rocks in it instead of feathers. She tossed onto her back. If Dunstan’s plans came to fruition, Ian would find himself behind bars, or worse. The fool. How could he risk his life with so many relying on him?

The cottages in the village were in terrible shape—certainly much worse than when she’d left seven years ago. The children playing in the street hadn’t just been ragged and dirty, they’d been painfully thin. The people were slowly starving. He should be helping them sell their crops, not seeking wealth from criminal activities.

Potatoes and barley were the only crops suited to the poor soil in the Highlands. And they used the barley to make whisky instead of bread. It was one of the reasons her father despised them so—their preference for hard spirits over food.