Lady Bess by Claudy Conn

grinned mischievously as he reached for and sipped his port, and then he chuckled with a shake of his head.
    Donna stroked her husband’s hand. “Oh Robby, please, do not be such a boor. We will have such fun.”
    He grumbled a bit more about the proposed expedition, and Bess laughed and turned to see that the earl wore a half smile. It was interesting that someone of his sophistication would not mind escorting them to see something he probably had no interest in.
    “Rocks and stones,” Robby said on a whine as his wife pleaded with her eyes for him to accept with good grace. “What do you want with them? We have rocks all over the countryside.”
    “Not like these,” Bess said. “These rocks, Robby, these rocks are more, so much more. If you stop your grumbling, perhaps I will tell you what I know of Stonehenge. It is quite full of mystery, and many men of science have very strong theories, but one very intriguing theory is that the Fae used the monoliths as portals until they perfected another mode of transportation.” Bess knew Robby very well and over the years had seen that he had a very healthy respect for all supernatural tales.
    “Eh?” His eyes opened wide. “How do you know that? Portals, eh?”
    Dunkirk interrupted by laughing right out loud and then said, “Robby, the ladies are determined that we visit the monoliths. I think we should go and have a look at these mysterious rocks, eh?” He moved closer to Bess and whispered in her ear, “Ye do that very well, lass.”
    His soft Scottish burr in her ear sent a shiver through her. She turned halfway to meet his gaze, and his blue eyes locked with hers. She swallowed and whispered in response, “Do …? Do what very well?”
    “Intrigue , lass, intrigue and captivate,” he answered easily. He touched her arm, and once again, shivers. He turned to her father and said, “Aye then, m’lord, I mean to abduct yer daughter for a moment, as I wish to show her another, er, zany, much like herself.”
    “I object!” Bess said at once. “Zany, indeed!”
    “Ye object? But to what, m’lass? Going with me?” His eyes twinkled at her, and she knew she would in that moment go almost anywhere with him.
    She felt the blush in her cheeks. “No, no, of course not, but we have not established that I am a zany. Calling me that doesn’t make me one.”
    “Ah, but then, t’was yer own da who said it was so. I canna argue with that, now can I?”
    Bess’s father laughed and waved them off. “Bess love, a zany you are, but a delightful one.”
    She pulled a face at her father and allowed Dunkirk to lead her out of the library and down the dimly lit hall to a sitting room whose walls were covered with paintings of men and women Bess assumed to be his lordship’s ancestors.
    “Aye then, here she is, Mary Margaret Searington. M’grandmother on m’mum’s side. I was lucky enough to have her for the first ten years of m’life, and every moment we spent together was filled with joy.”
    “She cannot be the zany you want me to meet?” Bess laughed.
    He grinned broadly. “Well, and she was, and that was part of what I loved about her. One never knew what Mary Margaret would be up to, and she was up to every rig in town.” He gave her a speculative glance. “There is something in the way ye laugh, in the way yer very green eyes gleam with pleasure when ye find something amusing, that reminds me of her.”
    How horrible , she thought immediately. I remind him of his grandmother. Nothing very romantic in that. It was almost depressing. She said amiably though, “That seems a very odd thing to tell a woman. I think you are trifling with me.”
    He put a hand to his heart. “Certes, but I doona know how ye can think such a thing. ’Tis the truth, believe me, lass …”
    “Oh, do stop. I don’t know which is worse, trifling with me or comparing me to your grandmother!”
    He evidently saw the humor in this, for he barked a laugh. Then he chucked her under