Page 91 of The Devil of Clan Sinclair
The three women looked at each other.
Elliot uttered a short, sharp cry, but before any of the women could go to his side, Macrath was at the cradle, reaching down and picking up the child.
Surprised, Hannah regarded him as he tucked Elliot into the crook of his arm, smiling down into a face so like his.
Now what did she do?
“You can see Alistair is doing fine.”
“Alistair?”
“His name is Alistair,” he said. “It was my father’s name and now it belongs to him.”
Oh dear, her ladyship was not going to be pleased.
At least the countess would be happy about her report on Elliot. The child appeared to have gained a stone, his little cheeks pink and plump. His eyes sparkled with delight as he waved his hands, contacting with his father’s chin.
Macrath didn’t do anything but smile and grip his son’s flailing fists with one large hand.
“Alistair is not leaving Drumvagen. Not now. Not ever.”
“Can she see the boy?” she asked softly.
The other two women stared at her, no doubt in surprise at her daring. She stood her ground, her hands clasped behind her, wondering if Macrath would be so annoyed at her that he banished her from Drumvagen.
He regarded her in silence, as if measuring her courage.
“She has survived much, sir,” she said in defense of Virginia. “Her fever was so high I feared she would die, but she rallied.”
Macrath smiled at her, such a beguiling expression Hannah knew, suddenly, how devastatingly charming he could be when he tried.
“I’ll let her see him,” he said. “The day she leaves Drumvagen.”
Virginia stared at her maid, every emotion, along with every single thought, flying from her mind.
She couldn’t formulate a sentence. She couldn’t string two words together.
Macrath expected her to leave?
“Your ladyship?”
The title was amusing since they were sitting in a cottage in the midst of a Highland thunderstorm, the torrential downpour having found four holes in the thatch roof. The hard dirt floor was liquefying beneath their feet. She breathed in the scent of mud and motioned Hannah to one of the chairs at the table.
“The man’s lost his senses,” she said as Hannah moved around the worst of the puddles to take a seat. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
Hannah didn’t answer, merely made a point of tucking her skirts up so the hem wouldn’t get wet.
“I don’t doubt there are many situations in society similar to yours, your ladyship,” she finally said.
Surprised, she regarded the other woman. “Do you truly think so?”
Hannah smiled and nodded. “There are simply too many convenient births, your ladyship. Society merely nods, and as long as everyone is discreet, life goes on the way it’s meant to. Titles are kept in the family, along with any property and money.”
“Are you aware of what my husband did?”
To her surprise, Hannah nodded again. “Servants aren’t invisible, your ladyship, as much as people would like them to be. We know most of what goes on in the houses where we work. People do talk, you know. Servants hear everything, and there are more than a few of us who like to gossip as well.”
“Did you gossip about me?” When Hannah looked away, she said, “It’s all right. I think I would’ve talked about me, too. Here comes this American girl, knowing nothing about society. She thinks to be the Countess of Barrett, just because her father’s wealthy.”
