The Laird Who Loved Me (20 page)

“Indeed?” Dervishton sent a darkly amused glance at MacLean before he said with mock concern, “You should all be informed of what occurred, then. For some unknown reason, MacLean was in a tree attempting to remove a hive when the bees swarmed out and chased him. He leapt to the ground—”

“From a tree? Is that how he—”

“No, no, he wasn’t injured then. It’s not that simple. He raced to his horse, but that noble animal bolted at the sight of so many bees, which left our hero with no choice but to make a run for the lake.”

“Good God!”

“Exactly. He plunged into the icy depths and stayed submerged for a good half an hour before they left him alone. When he finally came out, he had to remove his wet boots since they were filled with water. When he did so, he realized that he couldn’t walk with his boots sopping wet and rubbing his skin, so he tossed them into the lake.”

“How wasteful!” Sally said.

“My dear Miss Ogilvie, one does not submerge the sort of boot Lord MacLean wears only to dry it out and wear it again. They were ruined, and I completely understand his irritation. However, he failed to take into account what the leather soles had been protecting him from.” Dervishton smiled, an almost sweet expression on his handsome face. “Thistles.”

Caitlyn winced. In Scotland, thistles were particularly virulent, with cruel needles. “No wonder he’s limping.”

Falkland chuckled. “I wish I could have seen him.”

Caitlyn cast the young lord a scathing glare. Just as she started to say something, the Earl of Caithness joined their small group, his gaze also on MacLean.

At least now they’d hear a man of sense speak.

“MacLean!” the Earl of Caithness called. “Hail the conquering hero! Take off your boots and show the ladies your feet!” He turned to Sally and said with a chuckle, “They are torn to bits.”

MacLean turned to them, his dark green gaze sweeping the group and coming to rest on Caitlyn.

Her face grew hot but she defiantly lifted her chin.

The old duke, who’d been asleep in a chair by the fire until Caithness had yelled his greeting, sat up and chuckled. “Ah, MacLean! I hear you fought and lost a battle with a furious hive of bees.”

Good God, was
every
man going to celebrate because one of their own had fallen? Her brothers would have— Caitlyn frowned. Actually, they would have done the exact same thing.
Men!

Caithness chuckled. “I hear you took a refreshing swim, as well.”

MacLean’s mouth thinned and he looked directly at Dervishton. “I can’t imagine where you heard that.”

Dervishton smiled graciously. “I couldn’t resist sharing the tale. You were such a tragic figure when you entered the house, completely beaten and—”

“Cut and bruised, but not beaten.” MacLean’s gaze turned back to Caitlyn and a gleam entered his eyes as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, gray object. “In fact, I was absolutely victorious.”

With those simple words, Caitlyn found herself smiling as well, and for an instant it was as if only the two of them were in the room.

Her heart warmed, and she decided that although she didn’t wish him to succeed in his next task, she would make sure it wasn’t dangerous.

Dervishton’s smile turned sly. “Victorious in what, MacLean? I get the distinct impression that Miss Hurst knows.”

Caitlyn managed a brief shrug. “I can assure you that I never asked MacLean to walk barefoot through a thistle patch or swim a lake.”

MacLean’s gaze gleamed with reluctant appreciation at her misdirection.

Dervishton looked unconvinced, but before he could comment, the duchess went over and placed a possessive hand on MacLean’s arm. “It’s time for dinner. Shall we go?”

Soon, they were seated for dinner. Over the past few days, Caitlyn had noticed that her place had progressively moved farther from the duchess and toward the duke. She was now directly on the duke’s left, and as he tended to sleep throughout dinner, he made a far from ideal dinner companion.

Thank goodness Sally was nearby. She carried the conversation through dinner as it drifted to various topics, including the beauty and unexpected warmth of the day and the hope that it might continue. When she proposed playing lawn billiards tomorrow if the warmer weather held, the other
ladies and Lord Falkland immediately took up the idea.

When dinner was over, the men followed the duke into the library for their port. The ladies made themselves at home in the blue sitting room to talk, sip ratafia, and await the arrival of the gentlemen. Lady Kinloss brought her ill-tempered dog, explaining that “the poor thing” had been ill and was just now “up to having company.”

Caitlyn eyed the little dog with distaste. Between its large ears the tiny thing had a tuft of hair decorated with a large bow. Its eyes were cloudy and crossed, and many of its teeth were gone, with the remaining few sticking out at odd angles. It growled viciously at everyone except Lady Kinloss.

It was the least cuddly dog Caitlyn had ever seen, yet Lady Kinloss acted as if it were the most adorable creature on earth, calling it “Sweetums” and kissing its doggy lips, which was quite a feat since the dog tended to sneeze violently without warning.

Lady Elizabeth asked Sally to play the pianoforte, which she did reluctantly. Caitlyn rather thought Sally wished to stay with the group about the fireplace to secure Lord Caithness’s attention when he returned with the gentlemen, but she could do nothing but graciously take her seat and begin playing a light aria. As Lady Kinloss regaled the duchess with stories of Muffin’s prowess in catching spiders, Caitlyn wandered to the fireplace to warm her toes.

Lady Treymont soon joined her. A tall woman with a beautiful complexion and a rather pronounced nose, she had always seemed a little intimidating, but her warm smile made Caitlyn smile, as well.

“I do hope that dog doesn’t give us its cold. I’m not usually susceptible to illness, but I rather think
that
dog’s cold is especially virulent.”

“I’m more concerned with getting bitten.”

“It does have a horrible disposition.”

“As does its owner.” The words were out before Caitlyn realized it, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Lady Treymont chuckled. “I couldn’t agree more. Poor Lady Kinloss is so attached to that creature. I’m not sure he deserves such lavish devotion, but she seems happy with him—so she may have him!”

“Lady Treymont—”

“Please, call me Honoria.”

“And I’m Caitlyn.”

“Thank you. You remind me of one of my younger sisters.” Honoria gave a rueful grin. “Although your manners are not quite so hoydenish. One of them longs to become a sailor.”

Caitlyn chuckled. “I have sisters myself, although none have yet run off to sea.”

“Do you come from a large family?”

“Two sisters and three brothers.”

“I have my fair share of brothers and sisters, too.” Honoria tilted her head to one side. “We seem to have a lot in common. I should have made an effort to speak to you sooner.”

“It’s sometimes difficult to get to know every person at a house party.”

“This isn’t a large one, and there’s no excuse for my lack of attention. My only excuse is that my husband and I were apart for an entire month before we came here. I was so glad to have him back that I’ve neglected everyone else.”

Caitlyn smiled. “Pardon me for being forward, but you sound very much in love.”

“Quite unfashionable, aren’t we?” A faraway look entered her eyes, and her expression softened.

Caitlyn recognized that look; her parents had it when they spoke of each other. Her heart lurched, and she suddenly felt very alone. That was the kind of relationship she wanted; one where she could share life evenly with her partner. Where just spending time together held a sweetness and contentment that lit one from within.

It was such a simple desire, yet it seemed so very, very distant.

The butler opened the door and the men entered. Honoria brightened at the sight of her husband, made her excuses, and went to join him. Lord Falkland headed straight for the buffet, where more port waited, while Dervishton and Caithness greeted the duchess. The duke wandered to Lady Elizabeth’s side, making a wide berth around Lady Kinloss’s dog.

MacLean, looking rather dashing with his bruises, looked about the room and made his way toward
Caitlyn, his faint limp giving him the rakish air of a pirate.

Her hand tightened about her glass of ratafia as their gazes locked. A curious sense of expectation settled over her as he approached and—

“Alexander!” The duchess almost purred as she placed her hand on MacLean’s sleeve. “Do come and tell Lord Caithness about the new Egyptian finds. He believes they are all fakes designed to sell tickets to the British Museum.”

MacLean could do nothing short of making a scene. Caitlyn forced herself to act as if she didn’t care, which was hard enough even without Lord Dervishton’s appearance. The man was attaching himself to her side more and more, and she was beginning to get irked. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, but with him and Falkland always lurking about, it was difficult to have a moment’s conversation with MacLean.

Right now, Dervishton and Falkland were gallantly arguing over who should fetch her a new glass of ratafia.

Despite their noise, she listened with half an ear as MacLean related his opinion on Egyptian antiquities and, when questioned, on the day’s events as well. Somewhere along the way he’d found his sense of humor and added embellishments that kept his audience alternately laughing and wincing.

Caitlyn had to bite her lip to hide a chuckle when she heard MacLean tell her grace that he’d climbed the
tree on “a mad impulse, as if led by some wild nymph.” He really had a wicked sense of humor and—

“—so I rode the elephant all the way through Vauxhall.”

“Pardon me?” She blinked at Dervishton and realized he’d sent Falkland to procure the ratafia.

Dervishton’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Ah, you’re back.”

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

He looked over at MacLean with meaning. “No? I could have sworn you had.”

She stiffened and would have left, but Dervishton caught her wrist. “I’m sorry,” he said, surprisingly contrite.

She looked at her wrist and he released it. “Miss Hurst—Caitlyn—please. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She lifted a brow. “I rather think you did.”

“Perhaps I meant a
little
something. I take it that his lordship used his time sitting silently at dinner to dress up his little escapade and will now use it as entertainment.”

Despite herself, Caitlyn smiled. “I just wish we had as interesting of a story to tell. All we did was take a walk.”

“It was quite vigorous,” Dervishton protested. “And it would have been even
more
so if Caithness and Miss Ogilvie hadn’t meandered so.”

Caitlyn had to laugh. Dervishton took that as encouragement and spent the next half hour entertaining
her with some funny and slightly naughty stories about various members of the ton, some of whose names Caitlyn recognized from her stay in London.

Though she was pleasantly amused, Caitlyn still wished she could have a few words with MacLean. But between Dervishton’s attentions and the duchess’s clinging to MacLean’s arm, the opportunity never arose.

Eventually MacLean made his excuses to the duchess and her friends, pleading fatigue because of his adventure. On his way out, he stopped by Caitlyn.

“Dervishton, Miss Hurst.” MacLean inclined his head in greeting.

Up close, she could see no bee stings on his face, but rather bruises. The sight made her wince.

Dervishton chuckled. “Miss Hurst is greatly affected by your injuries, MacLean. Perhaps you should bandage them the next time you appear in mixed company.”

MacLean smiled coolly. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for the loan of your horse, slug that he was. I trust you didn’t have too tiring a walk back to the house? I recently heard that you’d just returned from a walk when I borrowed your mount. If I’d only known!”

Dervishton turned red. “I was just riding my horse out the drive and back a few times to keep her in good form. She’s newly broken to the bit, and as I’m sure you noticed, she’s still a handful.”

“She was perfectly docile for me,” MacLean said smoothly. “But slow. I do hope you didn’t pay too much for her.”

Dervishton’s jaw tightened, and Caitlyn hurried to say, “Lord MacLean, I was sorry to hear of your misfortune.”

He lifted a brow in patent disbelief but bowed. “Thank you. It’s not much; a cut here and there, and a bruise or two. I’ve gotten worse injuries from wrestling my brothers.”

That diverted her attention. “You wrestle your brothers? Even now?”

His green eyes sparkled with amusement. “Only to remind them who is the oldest.”

She would love to see that little display. “Miss Ogilvie said you were chased by bees. I don’t know how that could be since it’s fall. Someone told me they hibernated.”

Dervishton shrugged. “It’s been a warm fall. I daresay the bees hadn’t all left their hive.”

“Apparently not,” MacLean agreed drily. “I was fortunate they were sluggish, or I’d have been in worse trouble.”

Dervishton shook his head. “Why did you wish to see this beehive, anyway?”

MacLean’s gaze met Caitlyn’s for a moment. “I love a good challenge.”

“In all my years, I have never climbed a tree out of idle curiosity.”

“Afraid you might scuff your boots?” MacLean scoffed.

Dervishton’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not as talented in the performance arts as you are. I wish we could have
seen you running from the bees; that must have been quite funny.”

“I’m sure it was,” MacLean said smoothly. “But the ride home on your horse made up for it.” He slapped Dervishton on the shoulder so hard that the younger man gasped. “Good God, Dervishton, you sound as if you’ve an inflammation of the lungs. I suggest you give tree climbing a try; it’s very healthy.”

Caitlyn fought a smile as Dervishton tried to pretend he hadn’t just had the wind knocked out of him.

MacLean turned, captured her hand, and kissed her fingers, his lips warm. “Good night, Miss Hurst. I will see you tomorrow.”