Page 31 of Deception and Desire
“The man was stealing from them and that’s why he left.”
“What’s the company? I’ve been here fifty years and should recognize the name.”
She tapped her chin. “Mc-something or other, I can’t remember exactly. I’ve entered so many names these past few days.”
“Weel, that’s not much help, is it?” Her grandmother pursed her lips. “First, I’d do some research and see if it’s a legitimate supplier. Mayhap it’s a smaller company that couldna compete and had to close. It wouldna be the first.”
“And then?”
“If it’s no’? Go back as far as ye can and see how much was taken. Dinna go to the MacNaughtons until ye have all yer facts.”
She nodded. “That makes sense, Grandmama. Thank you.” She gulped her tea and stood. “I will go upstairs and wait for my bath. If there is any interesting news from London, I’ll share at supper.”
Once in her room, Fenella flopped on her bed and tore open the letter.Please, let it be good news.It had been a month since she’d arrived in Glasgow. Lady Franklin and her sister would have attended numerous soirees, balls, and musicales in that time. Their mother would be content with a suitable daughter in attendance. A lovely, petite daughter who would have the young men lined up to attend her. No whispers, no awkward introductions, no cruel pranks. With her sister out of sight, Evie might relent and let some handsome man steal her heart. A titled man like the Earl of Brecken.
This last week had been so… liberating. While she’d had more freedom than other girls with her father, this was different. She was truly living her own life, getting a taste of what the future could hold. The wages afforded her an independence that her father’s allowance did not. Beholden to no one, Fenella could save her money or spend it as she liked. Not that she would be frivolous. It wasn’t in her nature.
A tiny voice of guilt hissed at her. Her father and sister’s image came to her mind. She missed them. And if she were honest, she even missed her mother. Yet there was no great yearning to return. Glasgow was a vibrant, bustling city that was growing and developing. Fenella wanted to mature along with it. Perhaps even find love.
Lachlan. Her stomach flipped as it always did when she thought of the handsome Scot. His sense of humor, his lilting brogue that could go from teasing to skin-tingling in a moment. A mischievous smile, then a heated look. Her heart leapt with the possibilities, but her brain screamed caution. Her inexperience was her downfall once, and she couldn’t trust her own instincts. She did not know Lachlan. What he hoped for, longed for, what he thought about when he was alone, or laughed about with his family. The scene in the office came back to her along with an unbidden giggle. Well, maybe she knew what made his family laugh.
Unfolding the letter, she leaned back against the pillows as Rose took a steaming bucket, dumped it into the tub, and handed it back to the lad.
Dearest Fenella,
First, I must apologize for such sparse correspondence. Mama and I have been so busy. I have met several young ladies of good quality, as Mama puts it, and we’ve become fast friends. They help fill the void you left behind.
I must admit, I did not realize how much I depended on you. The first few weeks, I found myself going to your room to share something or ask your opinion. I was terribly lonesome. My new friends keep me company and ease the emptiness while you are away.
Now, on to news of London. I attended my first crush. It is aptly named as I could barely move through a room. However, Lord Brecken showed me how to move through a crowd with only my back brushing against another. The secret is to keep my fan a distance from my chest and walk sidelong, allowing for space to the front. It helps one to breathe and not succumb to the terrible heat.
One of those insipid girls who was unkind to you had a glass of punch spilled down her front. I do not know for certain how it happened, but the earl was nearby, and I’d just told him at the last musicale how horrid she was. I am certain there is a rascal hidden behind his perfect manners.
I have decided I quite like the theater. Lord Brecken has escorted Mama and I and promised to do so again. He has his own box for the season, and I wanted to pinch Mama when she continued to gush about it. I find him to be quite attentive and a perfect gentleman, though he’s terribly old. Nearly eight and twenty!
Oh my, rereading this, I see I have mentioned his name several times. Do not let your imagination run away with you. I have no designs on the earl. There are plenty of others who find his dark looks appealing. A competition does not interest me. He is merely a diversion until you return. I find he is quite useful in honing my skill of flirtation and quick wit. The gentleman is awake on every suit, and our conversations can be quite lively. Did I mention he is also an accomplished dancer?
I hope you are not too bored in Glasgow. Why on earth did Grandmama sell the bookstore without informing us? Of course, she was the owner and certainly doesn’t need our approval. I shall miss the dusty old place. And I miss you dreadfully. Give Grandmama a hug and a kiss for me. Papa sends both to you. He’s never been much for writing. Enclosed is also a letter from Mama.
Your devoted sister,
Evie
Fenella blinked back the tears. Life went on in London without her. As suspected, her absence had been a boon for Evie’s social status. Rereading the letter, she smiled. Her sister wrote as she spoke. The rambling style made her homesick. She quickly scanned her mother’s short note, gushing about the Earl of Brecken and his growing affection for Evie. Yes, things were working out well on both sides of the border.
“I think my sister is smitten,” she announced to Rose, rising from the bed and taking the pins from her hair. “She insists there is nothing between her and the earl, yet he seems to come up in every subject.”
Rose beamed. “I’m glad to hear of it, Miss Fenella. Miss Evelina is a lovely girl and deserves a good match.” She helped her mistress off with the dress and underclothes then added lavender oil to the bath. “It also may save you from another season in London.”
“Do you miss England?”
“Not really. My mother and I don’t often have the same afternoons off, so our visits are rare. My brother is always sailing off to some new adventure.”
“Does your brother knowanyof your French relations?” Fenella asked as she sank into the tub.
The maid shook her head. “My mother was a gypsy turned seamstress, as you know. We have no idea if any of her relatives ever settled or where they might be. And my father’s family… well, they didn’t approve of my mother, so there was no correspondence between them.” She dropped a cloth onto Fenella’s knees and held out the soap.
Steam rose and curled in little wisps, seeping into her tired muscles. She leaned back and wondered what it would be likenotto know your family.
