wear your plaid if it was the last scrap of cloth in all of—"
Footfalls from behind startled her. She hesitated a fraction of a second, then leapt forward, snatched the plaid from Dugald's hands, and whipped it about her shoulders.
"Lady Shona?" A man stepped out of the darkness.
"Stanford!" she said. She'd only met this man yesterday, but he was young, wealthy, and from a good family. Not the sort she wanted to alienate, not when the alternative was someone like this Dugald knave. "What are ye doing here?"
"I saw you leave the hall and I worried for your safety. What with the lightning and the rain, I thought I'd best see to your well-being."
Shona tried to smooth her tone into something akin to normalcy. But her heart was still pounding with anger, and her hands were shaking. "Tis very thoughtful of ye. What a gentle man ye are," she said, and glared momentarily at Dugald.
"May I see you safely inside?" Stanford asked, beaming as he offered his arm.
Shona reached for it then remembered she had to keep her blanket in place and pulled her arm back. Stepping forward, she hoped against hope that Dugald would stay hidden in the shadows. But hope and Dugald were not of one mind. He stepped forward. Even so, she saw that his identity was not discernible.
"Will you be needing my services any further this evening, Lady?" he asked.
She felt a blush burn her cheeks. Once again he had somehow managed to make his words sound distinctly suggestive. But she refused to acknowledge that fact, and fervently hoped Stanford couldn't tell that the cad was standing there in nothing more than a dark tunic and a maddening grin.
"Nay. That will be all...Farley," she said. "Thank ye for reporting that loose stone to me." She turned haughtily away.
From the darkness she could hear his chuckle. ' 'Twas my pleasure," he said.
Stanford turned back for an instant before leaning solicitously closer to Shona. “He was not giving you any trouble, I hope?"
Yes. As a matter of fact, he was giving her nothing but trouble. Why didn't the brave Stanford go back and box his ears? Shona thought, but she was not such a fool as to give Dugald the opportunity to tell what he knew of her evening activities. So she smiled brightly and said, "Nay, of course not. Twas but a defective stone in the wall. Our manservant felt it was something that should be seen to immediately. I fear I became chilled in the rain. Farley was kind enough to fetch me a blanket."
"I would have been honored to perform that service for you," Stanford said.
"Ye are too kind," Shona demurred. Behind her, Dugald chuckled again. Damn him!
"What became of Laird Halwart?" Stanford asked. His brown eyes looked wide and kind even in the darkness.
"Laird Halwart?" Shona stalled as she thought frantically. The hall seemed unearthly bright as they stepped through the doorway. "I, uhh...fear he had to return home rather suddenly."
"At this hour?"
"He felt a sharp need to do so immediately."
The noise from the hall seemed offensively loud now, for she wanted nothing more than to escape to the solitude of her room. But first she must safely maneuver the boisterous crowds.
Skirting a group of young men, Shona glided past her mother, ignored a fat lord who was motioning toward her, and carefully refrained from galloping toward the stairs.
She was almost there. Nearly....
"Daughter," her father called, turning from a pair of men dressed in hose and brightly colored doublets. "Come hither. There is someone here I'd like ye to see."
Shona ground her teeth in silent frustration. She'd had quite enough of men for one evening. She felt about as glamorous as a treed ferret, and if Father noticed her torn gown, there'd be hell to pay.
But he was intent on parading her before every eligible man in Scotland. And if she didn't answer his summons, he would certainly know something was amiss.
"I am really quite fatigued, Father," she began, still holding the tartan against her bosom as she
Footfalls from behind startled her. She hesitated a fraction of a second, then leapt forward, snatched the plaid from Dugald's hands, and whipped it about her shoulders.
"Lady Shona?" A man stepped out of the darkness.
"Stanford!" she said. She'd only met this man yesterday, but he was young, wealthy, and from a good family. Not the sort she wanted to alienate, not when the alternative was someone like this Dugald knave. "What are ye doing here?"
"I saw you leave the hall and I worried for your safety. What with the lightning and the rain, I thought I'd best see to your well-being."
Shona tried to smooth her tone into something akin to normalcy. But her heart was still pounding with anger, and her hands were shaking. "Tis very thoughtful of ye. What a gentle man ye are," she said, and glared momentarily at Dugald.
"May I see you safely inside?" Stanford asked, beaming as he offered his arm.
Shona reached for it then remembered she had to keep her blanket in place and pulled her arm back. Stepping forward, she hoped against hope that Dugald would stay hidden in the shadows. But hope and Dugald were not of one mind. He stepped forward. Even so, she saw that his identity was not discernible.
"Will you be needing my services any further this evening, Lady?" he asked.
She felt a blush burn her cheeks. Once again he had somehow managed to make his words sound distinctly suggestive. But she refused to acknowledge that fact, and fervently hoped Stanford couldn't tell that the cad was standing there in nothing more than a dark tunic and a maddening grin.
"Nay. That will be all...Farley," she said. "Thank ye for reporting that loose stone to me." She turned haughtily away.
From the darkness she could hear his chuckle. ' 'Twas my pleasure," he said.
Stanford turned back for an instant before leaning solicitously closer to Shona. “He was not giving you any trouble, I hope?"
Yes. As a matter of fact, he was giving her nothing but trouble. Why didn't the brave Stanford go back and box his ears? Shona thought, but she was not such a fool as to give Dugald the opportunity to tell what he knew of her evening activities. So she smiled brightly and said, "Nay, of course not. Twas but a defective stone in the wall. Our manservant felt it was something that should be seen to immediately. I fear I became chilled in the rain. Farley was kind enough to fetch me a blanket."
"I would have been honored to perform that service for you," Stanford said.
"Ye are too kind," Shona demurred. Behind her, Dugald chuckled again. Damn him!
"What became of Laird Halwart?" Stanford asked. His brown eyes looked wide and kind even in the darkness.
"Laird Halwart?" Shona stalled as she thought frantically. The hall seemed unearthly bright as they stepped through the doorway. "I, uhh...fear he had to return home rather suddenly."
"At this hour?"
"He felt a sharp need to do so immediately."
The noise from the hall seemed offensively loud now, for she wanted nothing more than to escape to the solitude of her room. But first she must safely maneuver the boisterous crowds.
Skirting a group of young men, Shona glided past her mother, ignored a fat lord who was motioning toward her, and carefully refrained from galloping toward the stairs.
She was almost there. Nearly....
"Daughter," her father called, turning from a pair of men dressed in hose and brightly colored doublets. "Come hither. There is someone here I'd like ye to see."
Shona ground her teeth in silent frustration. She'd had quite enough of men for one evening. She felt about as glamorous as a treed ferret, and if Father noticed her torn gown, there'd be hell to pay.
But he was intent on parading her before every eligible man in Scotland. And if she didn't answer his summons, he would certainly know something was amiss.
"I am really quite fatigued, Father," she began, still holding the tartan against her bosom as she
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