Page 54 of Deception and Desire
Lachlan swiveled around to find Calum watching him intently. “Grandda, did Ian mention anything to ye before he left?”
“Many things.”
Stomping down his irritation, he continued, “About the responsibilities at the mill, I mean.”
Calum rose and ambled to the large hearth, where a pipe and small tobacco pouch rested on the stone mantel. “He mentioned expanding into cotton, buying more power looms—modern machines from Manchester.” He held a tinder close to the burning embers, waited for it to burn, then lit his pipe.
They both watched the small puffs of smoke rise slowly in the air. Had Ian brought the subject up or had he forgotten? Or had their grandfather seemed so against it, he’d waited? He wouldn’t know until he asked.
“Anything else?”
“Ye’ve hired a new accountant.” Another leisurely puff. “A female who has a remarkable skill in calculation.”
So, Ianhadmentioned Fenella. Hopefully nothing had been said about the affection growing between them. He didn’t want his grandfather thinking she was the reason he wished to return to Glasgow.
“Keep an eye on her. She’s no’ a Scot, let alone family.” Calum’s voice was soft but firm. “No matter how bonnie she may be.”
“What are ye saying exactly?”
Calum shook his head, his brows raised in question. “Nothing. Just dinna let a pretty face cloud yer judgement. Yer place is here.”
“She has nothing to do with my lack of desire to be chief.” Lachlan’s fists clenched. His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath. “My feelings havena changed on that subject.”
“And I’ve no’ changed my mind. Ian kens the business better, and I need ye here.”
Anger burned in Lachlan’s chest, searing his throat as he forced back words he would regret. “We discussed this before I left. I’m no’ a young boy to be ordered about.”
“No, ye’re a mon with responsibilities to his family and clan. Ye’d be wise to remember it.” Another leisurely puff. “However, Ian seemed to appreciate the time with Lissie. And it’s true, he canna produce a grandchild for Peigi if he’s miles away.”
Lachlan waited.
“I see no reason why ye shouldna take his place on occasion.”
It was a compromise, at least in Calum’s eyes. Patience was not Lachlan’s strongest suit, but the stakes were high. In the meantime, Fenella would not be mentioned again. Their courtship would be his little secret for now.
“I willna let this rest, Grandda.” Lachlan strode to the door, then pivoted on one heel. Two sets of steely blue eyes locked. “I love my family and this clan, but my life is my own. I am who I am. Ye canna shape me otherwise, no matter how ye try.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Sundry Facades of Affection
Mid-July 1819
Glasgow, Scotland
Fenella decided thehoneysuckle tale was not just Scottish lore. She swung her foot back and forth, her slippered toe making a constantswish, swashsound against the thick wool. Her mind focused on the tear in her stocking as she tried not to think of the Scot that kissed her each night in vivid dreams. Kissed her, stroked her, sometimes more, waking to find her body bathed in sweat and panting as if she’d just ran the length of Glasgow Green.
“If ye wear a hole in it, ye’ll have to buy me another,” her grandmother chided from her rocker. “Time willna go any faster sitting on yer bum waiting for him.”
“Oh, Grandmama. I’ve stayed busy, you know I’ve tried.” With an effort, she stilled her fidgeting foot. “We’ve been to several dinners with your friends and even a dance. Two Sundays with Colin, and still it’s only been a few weeks.”
“The Glasgow Fair begins at the end of the week.” Aileen set down her embroidery. “That should keep ye entertained. It’s a magnificent affair with vendors from all over and entertainment on the Green. If that doesna cheer ye up, nothing will.”
“Oh, yes!” Fenella clapped her hands together. She’d always loved the traveling circuses and theaters that stopped outside London in the summers. It would be perfect to take her mind off… things. “I work on Friday. Shall we go Saturday or wait until Sunday?”
“I would be verra surprised if ye didna finish early on Fair Friday. It’s almost like a religious holiday to those living in the city.” She pursed her lips. “I’ll ask Fergus if he’ll accompany us.”
Fenella pondered when she’d first heard her grandmother use MacGregor’s given name. She knew they had grown close since her grandfather had died. Not in a physical, romantic way, but as dear friends. The older man was fiercely protective over his employer. She often saw them walk in the garden, her fingers around his forearm, heads close in some energetic discussion. He would pat her hand in a kindly way. A platonic love, then? Perhaps like she and Rose, but with subtle nuances due to their gender.
