My Fair Lily(15)
“There’s a note in the box.”
“Rip it up.”
Dillie rolled her eyes. “I will not.” She ripped the seal off the envelope instead. “Oh, you’ll never guess what he wishes of you now.”
“Not funny.”
“I’m serious.”
Lily took the parchment out of her sister’s hands, read it, and gasped. “He wishes to know where we purchased our horses. What sort of man asks a lady such a question?”
“I’d say, a man who wishes to know where we purchased our horses.”
She crumpled the note. “Dillie, you know what I mean.”
“Were you expecting a flowery apology from Ewan, Laird Something Unpronounceable with Lots of Rolling Rs?”
“No. And it’s Laird Carnach. It isn’t that hard to remember. Ewan, Laird Carnach, grandson of the Duke of Lotheil, and holder of probably a dozen unpronounceable titles. Did you know most Scots titles originated in the time of the Druids, before the Roman, Dane, and Norman invasions? Obviously, he’s the sort who speaks plainly, revealing only what he considers important to know. He also speaks directly. If he’s curious about something, he simply asks. If he thinks something is funny, he laughs. If something strikes him as ridiculous, he promptly says so.”
“You’re right. The man is an utter fiend.”
“He has neither tact nor diplomacy. Just brutal honesty.”
“Since when is honesty to be frowned upon?”
Lily blushed. “It isn’t. But that isn’t my point.”
“Then what is? Oh, never mind. Tattersalls is running an auction next week. Uncle George plans to attend with Laurel. We can ask her to help Ewan pick out a suitable mount.”
“Go ahead,” Lily said, her chin shooting upward as she huffed. “Ask her, for I won’t.”
“Fine. I will. She knows all there is to know about horses. Her Brutus is one of the finest stallions in England. Ewan’s eyes will pop wide when he sees him.”
“Stop calling him Ewan. He isn’t our friend.”
Dillie wiggled her eyebrows. “Though you’d like him to be.”
Lily ignored the comment. “He probably ate in the stable with the duke’s grooms last night. Not that there’s anything wrong with the notion, though society certainly frowns upon it.”
“We used to spend many a lovely afternoon helping Mrs. Mayhew bake pies and enjoyed the spoils afterward, didn’t we?” Dillie sighed. “I don’t regret a bit of the time spent in the kitchen.”
“Nor do I. However, Mother would be horrified if she ever found out. I suppose I sounded like her just now when complaining of Mr. Cameron.”
“A lady’s place,” Dillie started in a high-pitched voice, a wicked imitation of their beloved, but slightly scatterbrained, mother, “is not in a stifling kitchen. She’ll wilt under the heat of those bubbling pots and blazing fires, and then no gentleman will have her.”
Lily’s frown faded into a chuckle as she joined in. “Don’t forget her remark about our hands. They must remain as delicate and unblemished as a baby’s bottom,” she mimicked. “Perfect hands are the true mark of a lady.”
“Of course, we’ll overlook the dreadful rash that afflicted Cousin Harry’s little bottom last spring. Or Mother’s horror when you sprained your thumb sneaking that oversized Druid fertility god into our room.” Dillie placed a hand over her brow and pretended to swoon. “Oh, the shame! The disgrace! Girls, fetch me my smelling salts!”
Lily burst into laughter. It was impossible to remain irritated with Dillie. She always knew how to tease her out of ill humor. “Do you think Mother knows how many relatives are floating about this house? Or that Uncle Ernest and Aunt Mary left for Bath yesterday with only three of their five children?”
“More important,” Dillie continued with a nod, “do Uncle Ernest and Aunt Mary realize they are missing two of their children?”
“About those horses for Mr. Cameron,” Lily said, now restored to better humor, “I’ll stop by Laurel’s this afternoon on my way home from the Royal Society meeting and ask her to assist him.”
“Och, ye’re a braw, bonnie lass, and I’m that sorry m’beastie shed his fur all over yer new riding frock!” Dillie, ever irritating, took Lily’s face into her hands and kissed her on the nose just as Mr. Cameron had done yesterday. Then she released Lily and marched out of their bedchamber pretending to play bagpipes while dancing a jig.
Lily sighed.
Sometimes, she hated being a twin.
***
Lily spent the rest of the morning corresponding with friends and playing Duck, Duck, Goose with her cousins. When the little ones were sent up for their naps, she decided to pay a call on Eloise, hoping to learn a bit more about Ewan Cameron. Clearly, he had not been raised to assume the dukedom, for he had little knowledge of polite society and little desire to learn. He had a gruff manner and the rough hands of a man used to hard labor. He also had the brawny good looks of a warrior.