My Fair Lily(4)

“About what?”

“Marriage. Isn’t that the only thing these English girls are taught to think about? How to sink their claws into the first unsuspecting bachelor who stumbles their way? I can assure ye, no weepy-eyed, drippy-nosed English girl will trap me. I’ll be off for Scotland the moment I’ve fulfilled my promise.”

Eloise’s jaw dropped. “It is obvious you know nothing about Lily. Honestly, Ewan! Did you lie to Lily? What name did you give her?”

“Ewan Cameron, which is my own. I’m Laird Carnach in my own right, and have no need to grovel before my grandfather in the hope he’ll restore me as his heir. The bastard can stuff his dukedom up his noble arse.”

“Ewan!”

“My apologies,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “but ’tis this damnable deathbed promise I gave to my father. What can I accomplish in three months that he and my grandfather failed to do over the course of thirty years?”

Eloise sighed. “They were always like two oak trees standing tall and proud against the wind—each too proud to bow, and suffering the consequences for it. Had they been less alike in temperament, one of them might have bent a little and saved the family connection.”

“Grandfather’s to blame,” Ewan insisted, not bothering to mask his contempt. “He cut my father out of the line of succession simply because he dared to marry a MacKenzie. He knew nothing of my mother, yet dismissed her out of hand, for she wasn’t one of the pale-haired, weak-minded English debutantes he’d selected for his son. He never gave my mother the chance to show her worth. She was the best. Gracious and loving. But the old man had made his devil’s pact with the Sassenach invaders and was determined that Father should marry one of them.”

Ewan paused, struggling to regain his composure as a wave of sadness overcame him. “Father loved her dearly and was never the same after she died.”

Eloise leaned forward and patted his hand. “I expect this past year has not been easy for you or Meggie either, first losing your mother to illness and then your father so soon afterward.”

“He wasted away of a broken heart. There can be no other explanation for it.” That was eight months and two weeks ago, by Ewan’s count. And now he was here in London, forced to fulfill the promise to his father. The timing could not have been worse, for it was the height of the London season. Having to deal with his grandfather was bad enough, but dealing with him while all of London society watched and gossiped was going to be intolerable.

Hellfire!

Eloise seemed to soften in the face of his discomfort. “I know these next three months will be hard on you, but you must get through it for Meggie’s sake as much as for yours. When is your sister due to arrive?”

“End of the week.” He shook his head and sighed. “Meggie’s scared out of her wits, thinks our grandfather will eat her alive if she crosses him. That does no’ leave me much time to smooth the way.”

“It might help if she had female companionship during her stay.”

“Why? I’ll be here to protect her. But she’ll need a lady’s maid. I’ll select a suitable girl from my grandfather’s staff, or hire one if I don’t like the look of them.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “Meggie will need much more than a maid, unless you intend to keep her locked in her bedchamber for the duration of her stay. Oh, I know you have no such plan,” she added before he could protest. “So you must allow me to guide her. First, I’ll arrange a fitting for her with my dressmaker. She’ll require suitable gowns for the season.”

“I have no intention of putting my sister on the marriage mart. She’s no head of prime Scottish beef.”

“Indeed, not! And as for gaining entrance into society, it wouldn’t be proper at all just now. You’ve both just come out of mourning for your parents. But what harm can there be in a few quiet enjoyments, perhaps an occasional party to lighten her grief? She’s young and merry. These next few months will be impossible for her without these small distractions. Does she dance?”

“Aye.”

“Highland reels, I suppose. I’ll hire a dance instructor.”

Ewan frowned.

“Dear boy, you must stop fretting. I promise you that I won’t turn her into a proper English lady. Indeed, if she’s as strong-willed as you, I’m sure she’ll bite the head off any English gentleman who dares approach her,” she said with a mock shudder.

“Och, that’s the problem. She isn’t. Quite the opposite, she’s as sweet-tempered as my mother was.” He gave a wistful shake of his head. “I’m already regretting my agreement to bring her to town.”