Page 39 of The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
If he hadn’t been the laird, if he hadn’t been sitting at his dining table surrounded by his children, Lucilla would have pushed, but there was something in Manachan’s tone that warned her away from the subject of his medicines. So she inclined her head in polite acceptance.
For now.
The charlotte and all the sweet cream had disappeared. The footmen cleared the table.
Lucilla saw Ferguson enter bearing a tray with crystal glasses and three decanters. She glanced at Niniver, but the daughter of the house was sitting with her hands in her lap and her gaze on the table before her. Lucilla swiftly debated her options, then, looking at Niniver, shifted her chair back and rose. “Niniver—I believe it’s time we retired to the drawing room.”
The men hastily rose, all except Manachan. Niniver did, too, rather more slowly. She met Lucilla’s gaze, then glanced at her father.
Manachan caught her gaze and nodded curtly.
Niniver recovered quickly. She looked at Lucilla. “Yes, of course.” Laying her napkin beside her plate, Niniver waited for the footman to draw back her chair.
Thomas performed that office for Lucilla.
With a smile, she murmured her thanks, then, inwardly shaking her head over the lack of social eptitude displayed by the Carricks, followed Niniver into the corridor.
* * *
“I’m sorry.” Niniver dropped into one corner of the sofa in the drawing room. “I should have remembered, but I’m so used to not having any other lady at our table.”
Lucilla gathered her skirts and sat in an armchair facing the sofa. “I didn’t think of it before, but are you living here without any female companion?”
Niniver grimaced lightly. “My old governess, Hattie, lives here, so technically I do have a chaperone. But Hattie doesn’t approve of Papa or my brothers—she refuses to bear with what she calls ‘their baseness.’ She keeps to her suite of rooms upstairs, unless I need her to accompany me to some event. She never joins us at table.”
“So.” Lucilla settled more comfortably. “I recall seeing you at the Hunt Balls. I must admit that, other than those, I don’t go into local society all that much.”
“Nor do I.” Niniver caught her lower lip between her teeth for an instant, then added, “And if it wasn’t for Papa insisting, I wouldn’t go to those, either.” She wrinkled her nose. “I find all that—the balls, dinners, and parties—so…well, restricting. And unnecessary. The young gentlemen always complain about having to do the pretty, as they say, with us young ladies, yet it never seems to occur to them that some of us find being polite to them and pretending to be interested in them and their exploits equally excruciating.”
Lucilla laughed. “I take it you harbor no fond dreams of going into the ton, or even joining society in Edinburgh or Glasgow.”
“Heaven forbid!” Niniver shook her head. After a moment, she looked across and met Lucilla’s eyes.
Somewhat to her surprise, behind the pretty blue of Niniver’s eyes, Lucilla saw a mind far more shrewd, quick, and calculating than she’d expected to see.
“You probably understand better than most,” Niniver said, “being so centrally involved with your clan—even if you don’t call it a clan, the people of the Vale are that, aren’t they?” When Lucilla inclined her head, Niniver went on, “I was born here, in this house, on this land. I’ve lived here all my life, and although everyone assumes that, at some point, I’ll marry and move away, I…don’t think I want to. No—I alreadyknowI don’t want to.” Her blue gaze open and true, Niniver held Lucilla’s eyes. “This is my home—I care about the place and I care about the people. My roots are here, and that’s important to me.”
Lucilla saw the strength in Niniver’s delicate jaw, read the steadiness in her gaze—sensed the backbone her small frame and fairy-like features disguised. She nodded. “Yes. I understand.”
She recognized devotion when she saw it.
Niniver’s features eased. After a moment, she arched a brow. “Should I ring for tea?”
Lucilla waggled her head. “Not yet. Let’s give them a few minutes more.”
Niniver glanced at the pianoforte sitting in one corner. “I don’t play—or at least, not well—so I can’t entertain you with music.”
Lucilla grinned. “I do play, but I don’t feel so inclined.” She hesitated, but finding Niniver to be something of a kindred soul was too good an opportunity to pass up. “You could entertain me by telling me about a topic I would like to know more about.”
Niniver’s blue gaze fixed on her. “Thomas?”
With Niniver’s powers of observation confirmed, Lucilla nodded. “I’ve realized I know little about his background, and I’m curious.” Mainly about his connection with the Lady, but she didn’t want to reveal that much. “His relationship with Manachan and your brothers is…not quite as I expected, given Thomas and Nigel must be of similar age.”
“Thomas is the elder by thirteen months.” Niniver leaned back, getting more comfortable. “And there’s another thirteen months between Nigel and Nolan.”
“I’ve always assumed Thomas was born here.”
Niniver nodded. “He was. However, he didn’t grow up here. His parents—Uncle Niall and Aunt Katherine—lived in Glasgow. I’ve been told that they used to come here for all the holidays, so Thomas knew the clan and they knew him. I gather Uncle Niall—I can only just remember him—was well liked by everyone. He and Papa got along very well—I can still remember them laughing together, and coming in from hunting together. They were close, up until Uncle Niall and Aunt Katherine died in a carriage accident. I was only little at the time, and Norris was a baby. Our mama had died shortly after Norris’s birth. And then Uncle Niall and Aunt Katherine died, too, and Thomas came to live here with us.”
