Regency Proposal: The Laird's Forbidden Lady / Haunted by the Earl's Touch

Chrissie had happily left to her the duty of telling the Laird of their intention.

She stopped at a gap in the wall. The track to the ancient building before them was overgrown with weeds.

‘The tithe barn?’ he said. ‘Is this your surprise?’

‘Yes.’ She picked up her pace and instead of going in by the double-wooden barn doors, she made her way to a small door at the far end, carefully avoiding thistles and stinging nettles, some of which grew as high as her shoulders. She unlocked the door and threw it wide open, revealing a dusty empty room with a counting desk and a set of wooden shelves with pigeon holes against one wall.

‘It hasn’t been used for years,’ she said.

‘A tithe of nothing is nothing,’ Ian said. ‘The vicar takes his due from the collection plate. What is it you wanted me to see?’

‘Wouldn’t this make the most perfect place to hold a school for the local children?’

His eyes widened. ‘Are you telling me the vicar agreed we could use this building for a school?’

‘The barn is on Father’s land.’ She bit her lip. She should not have mentioned who owned the land. ‘He has agreed it can be used for a school.’

He stepped inside and turned in a circle, glancing up at the roof and staring at walls, much as she had done the previous day. He swung around to face her. He didn’t look particularly pleased, but nor did he look annoyed.

‘You don’t think it would work?’ she asked, fighting her disappointment with a smile.

‘It is a fine room. We could build trestle tables, find some stools.’

‘There are funds set aside by Lady Albright for a teacher. We could send to Edinburgh. What to do you think? Will you support the idea?’ she asked. ‘The clan members won’t send their children if you speak against it.’

He stared at her. ‘Why this concern now? We don’t need your charity.’

His suspicions were like a blade sliding between her ribs. ‘Would you prefer the children to run wild, with no chance for an education?’

He stepped closer, too close, looking down at her, his eyes flaring hot. Anger, she thought. Then wasn’t so sure. The blue in his gaze was so intense, the heat so bright with his body only inches from hers, it crashed against her cool skin. Her heart banged against her ribs, the sound loud in her ears. Breathing became difficult, as if the only air in the room belonged to him.

The strangest sense that he was going to kiss her tugged at her, drawing her closer; she could swear her body was leaning into his with a wild kind of longing.

He jerked back. She could have sworn she gasped at the shock of it, yet her ears heard no sound. It was all in her imagination, the connection, the physical pull.

‘It won’t make them think any better of your father,’ he said, his voice harsher than usual, his breathing less steady than before.

She shrugged, feigning indifference to the obviously dismissive words. ‘I didn’t expect it would.’

‘Niall will teach them. Two mornings a week.’

Did this mean he supported the idea, after all? ‘He can apply to the vicar with respect to his pay.’

‘He will not require payment.’

Apparently, his pride would not permit Albright money to be spent, but he would begrudgingly accept the loan of the building.

‘Are you sure Niall would be willing to work for no pay?’

‘The children will not come to a stranger. And they need someone who speaks the Gaelic.’

‘The children would obey you.’

A small smile curved on his lips. ‘Aye.’ He brushed by her and out of the door. He stopped and looked back. ‘Thank your father for the use of the barn. I’ll have Will Gair set to making some tables and trestles. Him, your father can pay.’

No wonder he looked so pleased with himself. He had found a way for Father to right what he saw as a wrong. ‘You are welcome, Mr Gilvry.’

His cheeks flushed a little red. ‘Thank you, Lady Selina.’ He strode away.

A proud man, but even so she had managed him quite nicely. And so what if he took it upon himself to provide the teacher and charge her father

for the furniture? The children would have their schooling.

That was all that mattered. A feeling of satisfaction filled her. A sense of a job well done, despite his reaction. Perhaps the people of Dunross would recognise her father’s generosity, even if their Laird would not.

And as for thinking he was going to kiss her, well … that was all in her imagination. More likely, he had wanted to tell her to go to hell, but had put the welfare of his people ahead of his own preferences.

Two days later, a fine drizzle hung over the hilly landscape like mist. It was almost as if the clouds, having brushed against the heather-clad hills, wanted to linger. There was no thinking about setting foot out of doors, not even in the carriage, so Selina stretched out on the sofa in the drawing room with a book to while away the hours until supper.

The drawing-room door opened and Chrissie bounced in. ‘You will never guess who is here.’

Selina put down her book. ‘Who?’

‘Lieutenant Dunstan.’

Her heart took an unpleasant dive. She hadn’t expected him quite so soon. But the sooner the better, surely?

‘Is he here to see me?’

‘He is with your father in his study.’ Chrissie clasped her hands together. ‘I am sure he is here to propose.’

Good news—then why did she feel a kind of panic? She wanted this. It had been all her idea. A new beginning after her accident. ‘Did Father send for me?’

Chrissie frowned. ‘No. But I am sure he will want to see you when they have concluded their business.’

Chrissie was as anxious for the marriage as Selina was herself. She hadn’t said anything, but she and Selina had occasionally disagreed on household matters. Until Father had finally told Selina it was no longer her concern.

It had been a painful truth.

She swung her feet to the ground and set her book aside. She patted her hair and smoothed her skirts, a pomona-green muslin. ‘Should I change, do you think?’

‘You look lovely,’ Chrissie said with a smile. ‘You always do.’

‘Thank you.’ Before her accident, she had taken her appearance for granted. More recently, she had felt unsure. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her steps as even as possible.

The antechamber to the study was empty. Mr Brunelle, her father’s secretary, must be inside with her father, taking notes, recording agreements. Should she knock and go in, or wait for them to come out?

As she dithered, the door to the study opened. She pinned a smile on her face.