Her Highland Protector. Ann Lethbridge

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СКАЧАТЬ accommodations. To be truthful, I did not expect such lavish quarters.’

      Too charming to be true. But it was working on Mrs Preston, who fluttered her fan and looked pleased. ‘You are welcome, Mr Gilvry, though nothing was undertaken without his lordship’s instructions, I can assure you.’

      Carrick waved off the compliment. ‘How are things at Dunross, Gilvry? I understand your brother is making improvements to his lands. And how is dear Lady Selina? I really must find the time to visit.’

      ‘My brother is well, my lord. As is his wife. I am sure they would be honoured by your company and that of the ladies, too, should they wish to accompany you.’

      ‘I really would prefer to go to Edinburgh, as soon as it can be arranged,’ Jenna said, giving her cousin a bright smile. ‘As we discussed.’

      Inwardly she winced as Carrick stiffened. Perhaps she should not have been quite so pointed. Carrick wouldn’t like the insinuation he had not kept his word. Or it might make him stir his stumps. If he did not make it so difficult for her to have this conversation in private, she wouldn’t be forced into this tactic.

      A look of disgust flickered in Gilvry’s eyes. His lip curled slightly. He was judging her again. Assuming her to be a woman with nothing but frippery pleasures on her mind. Well, she didn’t give a hoot what he thought. Not about something so important. This was between her and Carrick.

      Her cousin tugged at his collar. ‘I have been meaning to talk to you about that, Jenna.’ He slid a look at Gilvry. Had they been discussing her behind her back? Heat flared through her, anger at the assumption that they, having her interests at heart, knew what was best.

      ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, my dear, but I do not think it is going to be possible this year.’

      Jenna’s chest emptied of every gasp of air. This she had not expected. How was she to find a suitable husband if she never met anyone? ‘But you promised.’

      Carrick’s face froze. Blast. She really had gone too far.

      ‘Dinner is served, my lord,’ the butler said from the doorway.

      ‘We will discuss this later,’ Carrick said smoothly.

      Oh, no. He thought he was going to put her off yet again. She would not allow it. She had been the very soul of patience these past few months, but she wanted to go home. Surely Carrick could see how necessary it was? She’d told him often enough. Or perhaps that was the trouble. The more she pressed him, the more he resisted.

      Naturally, while Carrick took Mrs Preston’s arm, Mr Gilvry came forwards to escort her into dinner. As she placed her hand on his sleeve, she felt the heat of his body down her side and sensed the raw power of his arm beneath her fingers. Tingles shivered up her arm in reaction to that leashed strength. She recalled how casually he had faced those villains on the road and how safe he’d made her feel.

      A foolish impression. The man was ruthless in pursuing his own ends. A tremble shuddered deep in her bones. If it was fear, it came all tangled up in an excitement she did not understand.

      She lifted her chin and walked beside him steadily, outwardly calm, while inside her unruly blood ran hot. She was glad when he released her to pull back her chair so she could be seated. The relief, when he moved to the opposite side of the table, was tainted by a confusing feeling of loss.

      As they talked of political matters of interest to Carrick and the court gossip that so entertained Mrs Preston, Jenna glanced at Mr Gilvry from beneath her lashes. What about him set her in such disarray? His darkness? His reserve, except for the odd flash of interest when he glanced her way? Every time he did that, she felt a surge of blood in her veins. And all the time her heart felt too high in her throat.

      No. It wasn’t he who had her feeling at sixes and sevens, it was Carrick’s about-face on the visit to Edinburgh, and the strain of saying nothing of importance until the moment was right.

      Somehow, she managed to chatter on about inanities, all the while aware of Gilvry’s speculative glances.

      What had Carrick said about her? Had he been told she’d been brought up a hoyden by an indulgent father and spoiled by her lonely widowed aunt? It wasn’t entirely true. Yes, she was determined to have her way, but she had to be. She had responsibilities. She’d learned what she needed to know about being the mistress of a house and it was time to put that learning into practice.

      The servants brought in the last course: platters of sweetmeats and fruit. Now that the man had a full stomach, perhaps he’d be willing to listen to reason. She glanced at Mr Gilvry, who was gazing at her intently, with a look that made her toes want to curl inside her slippers.

      She did not dare think about what that look meant. She plunged ahead with her question. ‘Well, Cousin, will you explain why it is you’re breaking your promise about taking me to Edinburgh?’ she asked casually while peeling an apple.

      Carrick reared back in his seat.

      Mrs Preston shot him a worried glance. ‘I really don’t think this is the time or the place to discuss family business, dearest Jenna.’

      ‘Why ever not?’ she said, widening her eyes in innocent surprise. ‘Mr Gilvry is family, is he not? At least as close to Lord Carrick as I am. Isn’t that right, my lord?’

      Carrick cast her a look of displeasure, but seemed to wrestle his emotions under control because his voice when he spoke was surprisingly mild. ‘One can hardly refuse a request for a meeting when it comes from Lord Gordon.’

      Mr Gilvry’s eyes widened. He lowered his gaze to his plate as if he was trying to hide his reaction. But there was no mistaking it. He had been surprised by this announcement. If one of the most influential Scottish Dukes had called for a meeting, would the under-secretary not know about it?

      ‘When?’ she asked, unable to prevent the question from tripping from her tongue and trying to soften it into a more civil enquiry by adding, ‘When do you leave?’

      Carrick waved his fork. ‘Tomorrow. By ship for Edinburgh and then on to London.’

      London? The largest marriage mart in the world. An abundance of wealthy gentlemen ripe for the plucking like low-hanging fruit. Surely one of them would be suitable? He didn’t have to be clever or handsome. He just had to be willing to spend his blunt on Braemuir in exchange for a title. ‘Why don’t Mrs Preston and I come with you?’

      ‘Not possible, I am afraid,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘This is business. I will have no time for assemblies and balls. I plan to return home as quickly as I may, I assure you.’

      Her hand clenched around her knife as she fought to control her disappointment. ‘You agreed that it was necessary that I have a Season this year.’

      The pained look on Carrick’s face said she’d disturbed his digestion. He put down the grape he had been about to eat. ‘I promised you would have an opportunity to find a husband. And so you shall.’ His jaw thrust forwards and Mrs Preston sent Jenna a look of alarm. Mr Gilvry looked as if he wished the floor would open and swallow him up. Clearly she was pushing too hard.

      She took a deep breath. Forced her rising anger down. ‘Oh,’ she said lightly. ‘You are postponing. Now I understand. We will go to Edinburgh for the end of the Season, upon your return.’

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