Page 23 of The Texan Duke
“Oh, the McCraight tartan,” she said. “No, I wasn’t. I’m not a McCraight.”
“You’re not allowed to wear it—is that what you mean?”
She seemed to consider the matter for a moment. “I guess I could wear it if I wished. I don’t think anyone would have any objections. It’s just that I’ve never asked.”
He was getting a picture of Elsbeth’s life at Bealadair and it wasn’t sitting well with him. He had a feeling she was little more than an unpaid servant for the family. They certainly hadn’t expressed any appreciation for her actions last night. Plus, she’d gone out in a blizzard to check on a statue and none of them had seemed surprised.
He suspected that she would disagree with his assessment and perhaps he’d been too quick to judge. Maybe he should watch and learn for a little bit longer. Sometimes his first inclination was to think that coyotes got into the henhouse when it was only the family dog.
Twice, she glanced toward the door, then wiggled a little in her chair as if she were uncomfortable.
“Are you concerned because we’re alone?” he asked. “Granted, we’re not related, but doesn’t being the 14th Duke of Lothian give me some kind of latitude?”
She startled him by shaking her head.
“No, it doesn’t. If anything, it forces you into even more rectitude. You mustn’t be caught in a compromising situation. People could say things about you.”
Amused, he sipped at his coffee. “I can almost guarantee you, Elsbeth, that people are going to say things about me regardless of what I do. However,” he added, “you can be proper for both of us.”
She glanced at him again, her gray eyes wide with surprise.
“Gavin used to say the same thing,” she said.
“You called my uncle Gavin?”
She didn’t meet his eyes.
“You didn’t call him Your Grace?” he asked.
She sighed. “I called him Gavin. But not in public. The duchess would have thought it improper.”
“Were you given to chiding him, too?”
Her smile was lovely, making him wonder what memories he’d summoned.
“No, but he thought I was very proper for my age. Too much so, perhaps.”
No doubt because of his aunt, a comment he didn’t make.
“Since you’re acting as the housekeeper for Bealadair, would it be possible for you to show me the rest of the house?”
“I believe the duchess has planned on the family doing that, Your Grace.” She sent him a look, then sighed again. “Very well, Connor.”
He would much prefer to have Elsbeth show him around the house, but he knew this was a battle he was probably not going to win. He would take his victories where they came. Being alone with Elsbeth Carew counted as a victory—a large one—but one that didn’t last long. Less than a minute later, she excused herself, citing her responsibilities, and left him sitting there staring after her.
Chapter 8
Elsbeth had a great deal to do and spending time with the duke at breakfast hadn’t helped her schedule.
She needed to check on the roof above the housekeeper’s room. The last time it had rained, Mrs. Ferguson’s ceiling had showed a sign of leakage. Had the recent snow caused any further damage? If it warmed up just a little this afternoon, she would visit the roof to check on the statues. She’d already noticed signs of predation around the chimney stacks. She also had to discipline a maid for tardiness and talk to one of the footmen about his penchant for swearing.
She kept a notebook just like His Grace—Connor. Otherwise, she’d forget all the details that were now swirling around in her mind. She pulled it from her pocket and read her notes. The parquet floor in the ballroom needed to be polished. The chandeliers were in the process of being cleaned. The heavy velvet curtains had already been removed, brushed and beaten thoroughly and were being replaced, window by window.
Everything had to be perfect for the Welcoming of the Laird celebration. Even if the Laird didn’t seem to want to be the laird. Or the duke.
She wished she could follow the members of the family through their tour of Bealadair. What would they say to Connor about the various rooms? Would they bring up the history of the Laird’s Hall and the room it had replaced after the great fire of 1605? Would they relate the history of the conservatory wing?
Would Connor realize that he would need weeks in order to study all the various plants that had been brought back from South America, China, and Japan? Even in the most bitterly cold weather, they ensured that the conservatory was warm enough so that the plants didn’t suffer.
