Read A Question for Harry Online

Authors: Angeline Fortin

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Scottish, #Victorian, #Historical Romance

A Question for Harry (4 page)

“Hmph
! It isn’t any frown of mine that is discouraging any potential suitors! It is the frowns and glowers of nine … no, ten, oversized Scotsmen that are scaring them off! Thank goodness James had the courtesy to remain in New York!”

“I’m certain if we
had given him greater warning …”

It wasn’t easy to nurse her temper when Eve was equally determined to soothe it away
. Reluctantly giving in to a smile, Fiona took a deep breath, exhaling the last of her ire.


Better. Now smile or you shall scare the gentlemen off yourself. Though how they can stay away, I cannot imagine. You look beautiful.” Eve whispered softly and kissed Fiona’s cheek.

Fiona fiddled with a length of ribbon hanging from her waist with a surprisingly modest blush
. She had wanted to look her best tonight, and thanks for Eve’s insistence the previous spring (while Eve had been between pregnancies) that they spend a glorious month in Paris having their wardrobes made, she
felt
beautiful.

Tonight she wore a
gown from a newer designer in Paris, House of Paquin
.  
The silk gown of a lavender so pale it was almost white. The bodice and front panel of the simple, A-line skirt were covered in delicate floral and scrolling tambour embroidery of darker purples, white and brown. Along the edge of the low cut bodice was a border of brown velvet ribbon, trimmed with a narrow pleated edge of white lace that cast a soft shadow across the tops of her breasts and ran up to the very edge of her shoulder before soft Chantilly cascaded in layers down her upper arms.


I would say you look breathtaking, really.”

Fiona stilled her to the core.

Isn’t that how it always went? The moment your defenses were down … 

 

Chapter Three

 

From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh – June 1892

 

I just met the most marvelous gentleman! His name is Harrison Brudenall and he is a marquis from London! He has come to Edinburgh to meet with Richard and a group of investors about something or another. And Richard tells me that it has taken him years to learn tolerance for the marquis because the gentleman once courted Abby!

I cannot countenance it, of course
. The marquis is surely not so old to have wooed Abby when she had her Season so long ago. Nor can I understand why Richard would harbor any intolerance for the marquis. He’s so magnificently dashing and handsome with vivid blue eyes that simply dance with laughter.

He teased and flirted outrageously all through dinner until I was giggling like a schoolgirl. Yes, I know at seventeen that I technically am such a girl but never have I been the object of such practiced flirtation from such a posh London lord as the marquis!

 

A hundred eligible men in the room, Eve claimed, but only the one gentleman Fiona was most reluctant to greet dared seek her out. And it could not possibly be another behind her. She knew as much without turning to look that visual confirmation was completely unnecessary. Only all too well did she recognize the deep, delicious baritone that reverberated with a little quiver through her.

“Lord Aylesbury!” Eve turned with a smile, holding out her hand in warm welcome. “Fiona,” Eve caught Fiona by the elbow as if she sensed Fiona was on the verge of bolting like a startled deer. “You remember Lord Aylesbury, don’t you?”

Oh, Lord
Aylesbury
, she longed to drawl with dripping scorn. Why yes, I might remember you. Aren’t you the reason I am still unmarried at the ripe old age of twenty?

Or perhaps a lovely lie
? I’m sorry, I don’t think I recall a Lord Aylesbury.

Either would have been acceptable.

Either was better than being tongue-tied.

“Fiona?

As difficult as it had been to summon the willpower to come to London with this moment as a mere possibility, i
t was even more difficult than she might have imagined, turning and facing him in reality. Her heart pounded a nauseating rhythm against the tight confines of her corset. The gooseflesh raising the fine hairs on her arms was at odds with the heat rising with the flush that was surely reddening her cheeks. Damn her brothers for forcing this upon her!

“Lady Fiona,” Aylesbury
said, holding out his hand.

Fiona stared at his gloved hand blankly
before lifting her eyes to briefly skim his face before her gaze fell again.

She should have opted for the year instead
. The misery of three hundred and sixty-five days would have been nothing compared to the agony realized in that single, fleeting glance. Hair as black as night, vividly bright blue eyes under thick black brows. A face so ruggedly beautiful it made her heart pinch painfully.

The Marquis of Ayl
esbury possessed a smile that would steal a woman’s soul.

A smile

With a frown, Fiona glanced up at him again, noting his taut expression, the
faint brackets etched around his mouth and the slight downturn of his lips. Where was the smile? The light of humor in his eyes?

No, Fiona berated herself
. She might have to be here but she wouldn’t care. Not again.

“Fiona
? Won’t you say something?” Eve prompted.

Mutely s
haking her head, Fiona looked pointedly away.

Really, w
hat did a woman say to the man who had broken her heart?

“Eden, my love,” Glenrothes called
the loving sobriquet to his wife as he approached. “Look who I found among the crowd.”

They all turned
, and a relieved but honest smile creased Fiona’s dimples as she recognized the handsome, sandy-haired gentleman her brother was bearing along with him.

“Lord
Temple!” she said with affectionate welcome, holding out her hand in greeting. He took it, placing a proper kiss on the back of her hand before squeezing it between both of his hands warmly but solemnly.

Anthony Temple had served with Richard and Vin during their years in the Scots Guard fighting in Egypt and Burma
. Though he had been briefly incarcerated with Richard before they escaped from rebel forces in Egypt seven years before, the family’s true affection for him had been born from his rescue of Vin from those same rebels just two years past. Temple’s visits to Edinburgh had been rare but his company pleasurable despite his typically somber mien.

He turned to greet Eve as well
. “What a surprise to see you here!” she gushed, narrowing her eyes on Fiona.

A shadow of a smile crossed Temple’s lips though it did settle in his eyes, lighting their amber depths warmly
as he, too, looked back at Fiona. “A pleasurable one, I hope?”

“Very,” she
rushed to assure him. A fool couldn’t have missed the incongruity between the ways she had greeted the two men, and Eve frowned even more fiercely. But Fiona pointedly ignored her and everyone else, focusing her attention entirely on Lord Temple as if he were her savior.

“Would you care to dance?” Temple asked with a trace of a smile as the next dance was called.

“I would love to,” Fiona accepted with honest enthusiasm, taking his arm as he led the way to the dance floor without even casting a glance back over her shoulder. “The lads have done little more than trod upon my toes tonight.”

“I hope I make a better showing
.”


I promise you, you can do no worse!” Fiona assured him with a teasing grin.

“I wager I can,” he jested quietly.

Allowing her a moment to hook her train loop around her wrist, Temple took her hand in his and settled his other hand firmly at the small of her back as the opening bars began to play. With little reason to, Fiona hadn’t studied her dance card but was pleased to recognize the strains of a lively mazurka by Claude Debussy.

Lord Temple took a step forwar
d, setting them in motion and Fiona cast one last look at Lord Aylesbury before the spirited Polish folk dance required all of her attention.

He was watching her, his expression
more grave than she ever imagined it could be.

Good God, Harry Brudenall, is that really you?

If it was, he was nothing like the Harry she remembered.


Are you quite all right, Lady Fiona?”

Fiona looked back up at her dance partner with a smile
. “My apologies, Lord Temple. I am not as familiar with the steps of the mazurka as I should be.”

Belying his claims otherwise, Temple led her skillfully and enjoyably through the steps
. The mazurka was a couple’s rather than patterned dance, keeping Fiona partnered with Temple throughout the set. It was also complicated enough to command the dancer’s whole attention.

Regrettably, it did not.

Despite her best efforts to ignore him, Fiona was entirely too conscious of Aylesbury’s serious gaze following her.

Until that gaze was gone
.

The awareness faded and Fiona
sighed with relief, putting some effort into enjoying herself. “Despite your warnings, my toes are surviving quite nicely.”

“It is a surprise to us both, I assure you,” he jested in his quiet way
. “Much to my mother’s chagrin, I am not one to frequent society balls.”

As contained and solemn as he usually was, that didn’t come as a surprise to Fiona at all
. “So what brings you out tonight then?”

“Richard wrote that you were all coming to town so I thought it might be nice to make an exception.”

Fiona groaned as she was twirled around the corner. “Please do not tell me that he recruited you to assist in this mad effort to see me married off! I hardly require yet another pair of censuring eyes frightening off all the eligible gentlemen!”

“No,” Temple shook his head with a low chuckle as he began to move her around the floor
. “I’m most definitely not here to chaperone you, Lady Fiona, but perhaps instead to join the ranks of said eligible gentlemen.”

“Join the ranks
…?” She began to ask and then it struck, what he had actually said. A blush blossomed on Fiona’s cheeks and she nearly stumbled. Was Lord Temple saying that he intended to court her?

“Lady Fiona
? Have I shocked you into silence?” he teased lightly. “Perhaps I should have begun as I had originally intended with an invitation to join me for a ride?”

Another blush heated her cheeks and Fiona studied Temple through her lashes, noting for the first time his strong facial features and sandy hair
. His light brown eyes so solemn yet warm. And he was tall, a pleasing aspect of any gentleman given Fiona’s own unusual height, with a muscular military bearing.

He didn’t have dark hair but he was very handsome indeed
, though she hadn’t once stopped to consider it before. Temple had come into their lives when Fiona’s thoughts had been far too occupied with thoughts of Aylesbury to notice anything else.

Alas, that hadn’t seemed to change.

Glancing around the ballroom, it took Fiona a moment to locate Aylesbury once again, not on the sidelines but amid the dancers with a young, blonde miss in his arms. He was saying something to her, though Fiona couldn’t make it out from the distance. Whatever it was, it stirred none of the adoration in the young woman that Aylesbury usually inspired in females.

“Lady Fiona?”

Fiona looked up at Lord Temple again. “My apologies, Lord Temple, I’m afraid you have taken me quite off guard. But, to answer your question, yes, I think I would enjoy a ride.” Now that the worst had happened and she had managed to come upon him, the last thing she needed was to let Aylesbury think she was pining for him or without options. “Carriage or horse?”

“How about bicycle?”

Fiona laughed at the thought. “I fear I cannot imagine you riding a bicycle, Lord Temple. It doesn’t suit a military man, does it?”

A
pink gown swished by the corner of her eye and Fiona caught sight of Aylesbury close by. “Is it true, Miss Langston? Have you heard from her?” he was asking his partner. “Do you know where she is?”

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