Page 46 of Deception and Desire
Fenella focused on her clasped hands.What if I don’t go home?she wondered silently.
Aileen turned to Rose. “I thought Colin would fall over his own feet when ye walked into the room.”
“It broke my heart to hear of him being widowed.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Heisan attractive man. Do you really think he noticed me?”
The older woman snorted. “I’ve some experience with these stubborn Scots. He may no’ admit it, but he was drawn to ye from the first. I think weekly get-togethers would be ideal. Nothing blatant, mind ye, just dinners and minor outings.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind entertaining, Grandmama?” Fenella’s pulse quickened at the thought of repeating this afternoon every week. Every aspect of this afternoon. “You don’t even have a cook! We wouldn’t want to tire you.”
“The kitchen has always been my refuge, and I enjoy cooking. Besides, I’ve missed entertaining. I’ve missed people! Working in the store kept me busy and young.” She chuckled. “I’ll look forward to having a wee ceilidh on Sundays. If I’m no’ mistaken, those men will too.”
Rose slumped against the leather and closed her eyes, a silly smile on her face. “I hope we never go back to England.”
*
Mid-May 1819
Lachlan stretched outon the blanket, his weight propped on one elbow. Fenella sat beside him, trying to sketch one of the flowering bushes in her grandmother’s garden. The sky was cloudy with a light breeze that ruffled his kilt and bared his knee. When he looked up, he caught Fenella staring at his bare leg instead of the flowers.
“Let me see what ye’ve done?”
She blushed. “I’m terrible. Evie is the artist.”
He craned his neck to see her pad and guffawed. “Yer no’ being modest, to be sure.”
Fenella pushed his shoulder, knocking him off balance. He reached up to pull her down on top of him when approaching voices reminded him they weren’t alone.
Mrs. Douglas emerged from the house, and Colin and Rose returned from a walk. Lachlan sat up, adjusted his kilt, and made an appreciative sound when the older woman set down a plate with sweet meats. MacGregor followed her with a tray of lemonade. The two younger couples accepted refreshments on the blanket while the older pair settled on the bench.
“So, Fenella mentioned your grandfather is head of your clan,” Mrs. Douglas said in a conversational tone.
“The MacNaughton is a fine man, well-respected,” said Colin.
“Is it an inherited title like the English?” asked Rose.
“Nay, though sons often assume the position. The chief puts forward his choice, but the clan doesna have to agree, though that rarely happens.” This subject made him uneasy, reminding him of the reason for his respite in Glasgow.
“So, one of your uncles will succeed him?” Fenella sipped at the lemonade, her wet lips holding his attention.
“Nay, me or one of my brothers must follow him when the time comes,” answered Lachlan.
“Did he no’ have any sons?” Mrs. Douglas shook her head. “That must have been disappointing.”
“Grandda says his two bonnie daughters gave him three lads, and he was content to wait. Besides, what more could ye ask for?” Lachlan spread out his hands, indicating himself.
Her grandmother laughed. “A little humility?”
“Acknowledged,” he agreed with a nod.
“But not heeded,” added Colin.
With a smack of his lips, Lachlan rose and set his cup on the tray. He held his hand out to Fenella. “Walk with me?”
She took his fingers without hesitation, and they strolled around the small perimeter.
“Ye’ve no’ told me much of yer family.” He didn’t want to cause her distress by bringing up her deceased father. Yet, he wanted to know more about her and where she came from. “Tell me of yer sister and mother.”
“Evelina is two years my junior and a complete opposite. She’s petite, darker than me, and vivacious. People are naturally drawn to her. Evie is also my dearest friend.” She sighed. “My mother, on the other hand, is always hoping to improve her position in society. Her dream is that one of us marries a titled gentleman.”
