Page 30 of A Scot's Pride
Riley sat up straighter where she’d been reading on a chaise longue. Her eyes were still puffy and red, but she’d stopped crying.
“What’s happened?” she asked. Riley’s panicked eyes flicked to the door behind Freya as if she expected someone else to burst through.
“Well, the first thing was that Papa told us Cousin Arthur is coming to stay for a week.” Freya’s throat was tight with the need to burst out that Ashbury was just below Riley. The only thing separating them was a few feet of wood.
Riley frowned, disappointed as Freya was at the news. “Oh.”
“But the second thing has just happened, and I fear I might be hallucinating.” Freya rushed forward and sat near her sister’s feet on the chaise.
Riley set down her book without marking her place, leaning forward, eager for better news. “Tell me.”
“As I was coming upstairs, I could have sworn I heard Lord Lovat and Lord Ashbury speaking to the housemaid.”
Riley let out a long sigh and shook her head. “That’s impossible. You’re hallucinating. And oh, how disappointed I am that you would get my hopes up like that, Freya.”
“I’m telling the truth. He’s downstairs.”
Riley sat back, crossing her arms over her chest as if the move would protect her heart. “He must have messed you up at the ball. You can’t wait for him to come back so you can exact your revenge. And as for Lord Ashbury, you want him to show up so badly because you know what it means if Cousin Arthur arrives. And I do so love your tender heart where I’m concerned, but Freya, I know my fate. We must all accept it.”
“Riley, that’s just it. How could I be hallucinating? I’ve never done so in my life. They are downstairs right this minute.”
Riley shrugged, shaking her head again. “There’s always a first time for everything, and I suspect now that you’ve gone mad, there will be more to come.”
Freya couldn’t help but laugh at Riley’s disappointment and the way her mind had turned Freya into a raving lunatic. “This is true. But I think not in this situation.”
“You truly believe they are downstairs?” Riley held her breath, a flush of color coming to her cheeks.
Freya nodded, then leapt up and pressed her ear to the door. “I think I can hear their voices. Or at least the low timbre of them.”
Riley stood and tiptoed to the door, too, her ear pressed to the wood. “It does sound like male voices.”
“You see? I wasn’t hallucinating.”
“I believe you that there are men here, but not that it is the ones you think,” Riley conceded.
“Look outside. Are their horses there?”
“I don’t know if I’d recognize Ashbury’s horse. Would you recognize Lord Lovat’s?”
“No. But it can’t hurt to look.”
The two ran to the window, pressing their foreheads to the glass to peer down. Right below them were two saddled horses tied to the posts.
“Only tied to the posts,” Freya said. “Not someone who plans to stay long and nothing to say who they are.”
Riley frowned. “It’s probably just some neighbors inviting us for tea. Sent on errands by their wives.”
“Have you ever known Papa to run an errand for his wife?” Freya raised a skeptical brow at her sister.
“No, I don’t think so. But he’s not a country gentleman.” Riley shrugged, then sauntered to the chaise, where she collapsed dramatically.
“He owns a country estate. Does that not make him a country gentleman?”
“Another interesting query.”
An insistent knock rapped against the door.
“You open it,” Riley said, paging through the book to find where she’d left off.
