Chapter 6

"Truly, London is nae what I thought it would be."

Lissie sighed as she lingered by the entrance to the manor house. It was another ball; another noble house; another long night in deeply uncomfortable chopines. The night was young and promised to sparkle, but not for Lissie"s poor feet.

Unless it was with blisters.

Because only a few weeks after arriving in town, Lissie Duncan was tiring of London life. And her feet definitely were.

"Och," Lissie pouted, as a group of ladies passed her by. As they went, some turned, giving her a haughty glance before looking away.

Lissie sighed. "I am nae but a joke here," she lamented to herself.

Balefully, she looked down. Her attire was correct. She had just the right length of houppelande on, crashing to the ground in a vivid splash of color. Her headdress had been chosen by Annice—of course—and pinned into sheer perfection.

Whatever else she thought of her highfalutin cousin, Lissie could not fault her style. And she had to admit, she had thrown her all into attempting to civilize her. And when Lady Agnes gave something her all, everyone knew about it. Subsequently, Lissie had been to every lord"s townhouse this side of the Thames.

In the last three weeks there was no ball, joust, or hunt she had not been to; night after night, day after day, and she was beginning to flag.

Taking in the early evening air, Lissie gave a deep sigh. It was a beautiful night. The drenched pink sun was setting, sending the evening into gentle darkness. Out there, in the distance, spring was happening; buds were blooming, birds were singing. Lissie knew that the Duncan glen would be especially beautiful with the scent of grass in the air.

Except, in crowded London, it was hard to find. No matter where she was, the commotion of hammers and banging followed everywhere. From the smell of the tanners to the constantly smoking chimneys, it was hard to find anywhere that was clean.

Well, maybe not quite. Lissie cast her eyes balefully over Lord Percy"s large estate. Certainly, there was plenty of green. But she could not put her finger on it. It just was not the same somehow.

It isn"t home.

Hot tears pricked up in her eyes. Swiftly, she moved to brush them away. This would never do. Annice had spent hours applying a thick paste to her face in the errant hopes of banishing her freckles for good.

"You will never snare a lord with peasant skin, Elisabeth! You are as brown as a nut!" tutted Annice. Then, she had set about painting Lissie"s entire face with some sort of noxious paste before adding some vermilion to her lips and almost giving her a cardiac arrest when she saw herself in the glass.

That was before completely banning her from strong sunlight and forcing her to wear a very unfetching wide-brimmed hat out of doors.

"Ladies such as we should nary be outdoors, Elisabeth," said Annice primly.

Lissie just frowned. The old her would have laughed and then gone out for a long ride. But since arriving in London, she had become less certain.

She was no longer the carefree girl she had been. Since arriving in London, she had created quite a stir. But despite the interest, she was still a million miles from marriage.

"Lady Elisabeth?"

Lissie looked up.

"You have suitors wishing to dance," murmured the lady, whispering surreptitiously in her ear.

Time had passed. She was indoors, and the ball was in full swing. It was nearing the end of the formal banquet, and now guests were dancing.

Fanning herself demurely, Lissie tried to look enthused. Turning around, she saw a tubby, gray man of the usual English variety; more hair in his ears than on his head and a girth a yard wide.

"Lord Amersham desires the pleasure of your company, madam," said the courtier, a middle-aged woman with prematurely white hair.

Lissie glanced over. Her feet hurt, and she was not in the mood for this. But that attitude would not get her a husband. So, she shuffled gamely to her feet and puttered over to the balding lord.

"Your lordship," she said, and curtsied. Lissie stayed bowed for as long as she conceivably could, showing off her perfect poise. But even as she curtsied, a twitch of annoyance surged up from within her.

She was the lady. Surely he should be paying court to her? After all, he was the one requesting to see her.

As she crouched on the cold floor, Lissie was aware of eyes upon her. A ripple of silence spread around the room. Dancers stilled in their moves, and even the players paused, waiting for the lord to respond.

Lissie glowed. She had become a sensation. But not of the kind that she wanted. Far from setting the London scene alight, she had become a curiosity. A talking piece—or even a laughingstock.

The ladies" eyes burned into the back of Lissie"s skull. Without looking, she knew they were there. Everyone was. Even the servants had stopped going about their business and were frozen, watching her every move.

"My sweet lady, you are brighter than the day"s light! Scotland is a fine land indeed."

This instantly drew ripples of laughter, leaving Lissie even more uneasy than ever. Instead of speaking, she simply nodded, rising to her feet as graciously as she could manage. Amersham helped her up as he pulled her toward him for the next dance.

The evening passed in a flurry of dancing; first Amersham, then the host, then... Well, Lissie was not quite sure. They all melted into a haze.

Exhausted, Lissie dragged herself to her seat. Eyes closing, she drifted off into a pleasant reverie, the sweet contours of the Duncan glen. Her eyes closed, Lissie wondered how long it would be before she returned when a strange hand materialized on her shoulder.

She jolted awake.

"Pray, forgive me, my lady," a voice murmured. Blinking, Lissie came face-to-face with a man.

""Tis fate we meet again," he said, extending his hand to her formally.

Lissie stopped dead. It was him. She could not stop herself from beaming. Nervously, she began a curtsy, but he just grinned.

"Prithee be seated," he murmured, showing her to her seat. But Lissie could but gawp.

She scrutinized him. He had a thick crown of jet-black hair set against fair skin. This was unusual. Yet, at the same time, he was typically Sassenach; his eyes were a piercing blue that seemed to look through their subject. And his skin was cool and pale with a pinkish tinge.

"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Lady Elisabeth." His blue eyes twinkled. At this, Lissie"s heart jumped.

She had forgotten he somehow knew her name; half of London did. However, she instinctively leaped to correct him.

"Lissie…" she began to say. And I am nae a lady.

However, before the words were properly out, she stopped herself. Perhaps it would not do to go announcing her lowly status. And besides, the ladies gathering behind her would only be too delighted to hear it.

Never mind how they all laughed every time she opened her mouth. Wondering how to proceed, Lissie looked around. How she wished they would all leave her alone so she could speak with the gentleman.

"Excuse me," said the man. He removed his hand, backing away slightly. It was only then she truly appreciated his height. Glancing up, she realized he was well over six feet tall. Maybe six-foot-three or so.

The look of surprise must have been conveyed in her eyes as he stepped back and laughed.

"Did I do something to surprise you?" he asked.

Lissie smiled, her eyes glued to his. The man"s hand was still resting upon her shoulder, leaving a tingling sensation where it went.

"I dinnae ken yer name," she said, whispering as softly as she could. Behind her, the gilded ladies listened; Lady Caroline, Lady Alice, and Lady Lettice formed a clique that pursued her all over London.

"She doesn"t know who he is," one giggled.

Lissie looked around sharply as Lady Caroline"s gray eyes met hers. She viewed her scornfully, leaving Lissie in no doubt that the man must be well-distinguished indeed and that once again, she had failed in her quest to fit in.

Anxiously, Lissie"s stomach twisted. It was clear she was an imposter, that a true English lady would already know his rank.

The gentleman stood back, startled.

"I beg your pardon, mistress," he said politely.

Lissie blushed. "Yer name, sir?" she said, point-blank. Of course, the clique laughed, but to hell with them. Lissie only had eyes for him then, her gaze fixed squarely on the man"s dark blue stare.

Finally, the penny dropped.

"Oh!" said the man. Then he blushed. Lissie had to admit, it was almost worth it just to see him color like that. The sight of him smiling on the back foot sent goosebumps shivering up her spine.

"My apologies, my dear. I am William Rothingham, Duke of Iverst, but my friends call me Will."

Will"s blue eyes sparkled, inviting her to laugh as Lissie tried his name out in her head.

Will. How English!

Her thoughts immediately turned to her brother, Billie. His name was also short for William. She could not imagine anyone ever calling him Will.

A smile grew beneath her nose. Then, she remembered he was watching.

"Will, I am pleased to meet you," she said firmly. For a minute, they just stood there, face-to-face. He was close enough to kiss, and out of nowhere, this became the all-consuming thought in Lissie"s head.

Will pressed his firm cheeks toward her, lingering near enough to spark a murmur from the ladies behind them.

But Lissie was not listening. And neither was he.

He stayed there, half-smiling, half-staring for a few minutes, making her wonder if he was going to ask her to dance—or maybe he really was going to embrace her.

Don"t be silly, Lissie. As if he would do that, and here!

All the same, crowd or no crowd, Lissie could not help wishing that he would. The scent of the man moved nearer, intoxicating her with his heady perfume.

"And I am most charmed to meet you again." Will nodded and smiled enchantingly.

Lissie giggled. It seemed like he only had eyes for her, and from the ripple passing through the room, everyone had noticed it too. Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of Lady Caroline"s face, frozen in disbelief. She had to stop a smile rising to her nose.

"Indeed, you are more beauteous than the day before; the fairest flower in any field," declared Will.

Holding a giggle, Lissie thought hard about all the things that Annice had told her to do and not do in just this situation; Don"t stand with arms folded. Get him to make the first move. Ensure he woos you with costly gifts. Affect a turn with a laugh. Do not laugh overly. Eat little, and speak less.

Nothing about dragging him into the corner for a kiss, then. Drawing her brow into a frown, she pondered her predicament until Annice"s voice cut into her brain.

Do not frown, ever!

Swiftly, she adjusted her face. Smiling, she waited for him to act.

"Perchance you might wish to dance again with me sometime, my lady?" he asked, his face cool and cautious, but his eyes were glowing and intense.

Lissie forgot all about etiquette and almost leaped on him. "Aye, sir, I would very much like that."

If only she had left it at that. But no, her stupid mouth had to add, "Och, if yer feet have recovered from last time, of course!"

Will"s expression wavered. Lissie should have shut up then, but didn"t. Burbling, she continued.

"Ye"ve got e"en muckle bigger left feet than me," she yapped. "Ye ken, my big toe has been throbbing e"er since our dance."

To Lissie"s horror, Will"s face fell flat, leaving her in no doubt that she had offended him.Lissie"s heart was beating in panic. Behind her, the triumvirate cackled.

"I mean, ye"re nae such a bad dancer, really," she added, in the hopes this would be enough to restore things.

It was not.

Will looked at her blankly. Panic rose in Lissie"s throat, spreading hotly across her cheeks. She was mortified. How could she have addressed a duke in such a way?

Desperate to get away, she mumbled hurriedly. "Och, dinnae fash, I-I"d better be getting along."

Shame burned her. She had made a major miscalculation. Clearly, Sassenachs had a different sense of humor.

Or none at all.

She had to get out of here. Without a second look, she turned and almost bolted out of the door, leaving a frankly stunned Will in her wake.

"Elisabeth?" called Will uncertainly. But Lissie was long gone. She did not stop running until she was outside.

Pumping hard, Lissie"s heart battered its rib cage like a scared bird. Viciously, she berated herself. How could she have been so stupid? Cousin Annice was right.

Someone like her could never marry a lord.