Chapter 7

"Lady Elisabeth? Elisabeth!"

Pushing through the packed hall, Will followed Lissie.

To begin with, he did so slowly; the last thing he wanted to do was make a scene, especially in front of the noble set, sporting more miniver than the entire squirrel population of London.

But eventually, he broke out into a full-out run. And by the time he had left the manor—the imposingly large winter residence of the Percy family—it became increasingly hard to catch her up.

"Elisabeth!" called Will helplessly, casting around the large grounds surrounding the house. Behind him, the murmurs from servants buzzed in his ears.

The marshal approached. "Sir, the young lady is preparing to leave. If you wish, I can send a message."

"No message," snapped Will. He bit down the irritation burning in his throat and turned to the servant. Forcing himself to smile, he looked at the marshal. ""Tis no bother. I shall catch her up."

Inside, Will was fuming. He wanted to flee this fully packed place, but no matter where he went, there were hangers-on following him. The marshal"s eyes widened as if he had opinions on the subject, but pulled his lips into a thin line and said no more. Hastening after the girl, Will headed to the stables.

"Excuse me," he called, at the back of Lissie. The girl"s dark raven hair was loosed from its headdress and swayed as she ran. Will was even more entranced than before.

How anyone could run so fast on such tall shoes was beyond him. Yet, Lissie did not let up. She had gotten from the main house to the stables in double fast timing, and not even the lackeys from the mansion could catch up.

"Mistress?" he called, beads of perspiration trickling from his head. He was burning, and not just with the heat of running.

Of course, Will knew he should not be chasing her. He risked making himself a laughingstock, or worse, she would spurn him. However, there was something about this strange Scottish girl that made him grin.

Standing in the freshness of the spring eve, the scented air hit Will"s head, making him long for his estate. If he could, he would ride away from here, preferably with Elisabeth in tow, and never return. He really would.

He had been on the London circuit precisely three days and was heartily sick of it already. Lissie was the breath of air he craved.

Running faster, Will no longer cared what anyone thought.

"Elisabeth, pray wait!"

But Lissie had shed her chopines and was now running barefoot along the track to the stables. There, she leaped atop a snow-white horse and prepared to ride.

Before she could get any further, Will rounded the corner into the stables and stood before her.

"Elisabeth..."

Lissie looked up. For the first time, she noticed him. Or, at least, acknowledged him. Will could not quite believe that she had not heard him calling her once in all that time.

Now her eyes met his. Through the haze, Will locked on to her beam. For the first time, he saw the depths of her blue eyes.

"Will?" She sounded bewildered, as if perhaps she really had not known he was following.

Damn.

There was a silence. In that time, all the sounds of the world dimmed, and Will had a full chance to ponder if he had not just made a total fool of himself.

Well, he probably had, but it was too late now. Throwing caution to the wind, he said, "Pray, do not ride on such bad feeling. If I did something to upset you, I am sorry."

The simplicity of his words found her. Lissie looked stung.

"I..." She looked as if she were struggling for breath. Instantly worrying about her, Will came over to her side.

Lissie was seated atop a beautiful white mare, her long turquoise robe draped over the back of it, just raring to go.

""Tis getting late for a lady to ride herself such a long distance," began Will. He didn"t want to tell her what to do, but he would be failing in his duty as a man if he did not point it out. "The wagoner is expecting to ride ye home, but I am sure he can delay."

His eyes connected with hers. She flashed hers fiercely at him. Will loved the image of her there, her long, brown-black hair unfurling over her shoulders, the dratted headdress long gone.

"Well, he can wait," said Lissie abruptly. She still seemed peeved. Will wondered what he had done to annoy her so.

"I am more than capable of handling the London streets."

Once again, her eyes connected, revealing their amber-brown flecks. Every time he saw her, there seemed to be something new he hadn"t seen before.

"I don"t doubt that, my lady," said Will, stumbling over his words. Somehow he could not get to the bottom of the matter. "But it does not befit a highborn lady to?—"

To Will"s surprise, Lissie stopped him dead, tears shining in her eyes.

"My lady? Elisabeth?"

Now tears were tumbling down Lissie"s face. In horror, Will watched.

Dismounting, Lissie wiped the tears with the back of her hand. It wasn"t elegant, and it blew hair all over her face, but Will just wanted to kiss her.

"That"s just it," she said in between sobs.

Will felt an instinctive need to comfort her, but had to be careful. They were alone in a potentially compromising situation. At any minute, anyone could come.

"I"m nae a lady at all," confessed Lissie, her blue eyes staring. The low sun hung in the air. Slowly, dusk filled the stables. It was dark and enticing.

Every fiber of Will"s being told him to go to her and hold her tight, to do whatever it took to soothe her tears. Of course, he did not. He was English. Stiffly, he went over and offered a hand.

"Not a lady?" said Will limply. He was not certain he had heard right.

Lissie nodded. "Aye," she said balefully. "My cousin is the lady. I am nae. I"m nae even the maid o" the clan, except by default, perchance."

Will looked unsurely. "Ah, um, I see," he said, not seeing at all. "Well, Elisabeth, I am sure it is naught but a misunderstanding. You are every inch a lady!"

Lissie watched him solemnly for a moment. Then she burst out laughing.

"Wheesht!" she cried, then looked at Will"s confused face and laughed some more. "Dinnae fash! I am no grand lady. Jings, I am nae even really Elisabeth in truth. The only one who calls me that is Annice."

"Annice?" said poor Will, desperately unable to catch up.

The pair of them were face-to-face, his hand resting unsurely on her shoulder. Although he was relieved to see her smile, he wished he could understand why. In fact, he wished he could understand her full stop.

"My cousin. Lady Agnes," explained Lissie.

"Lady Agnes, Annice," said Will, trying it out for amusement. A grin wrapped itself around his face. Noticing it, Lissie looked quizzically.

"Whit"s sae funny?" she asked, point-blank.

Will shook his head. "The notion of anyone calling the esteemed Lady Agnes, Annice."

Lissie rolled her eyes. She looked somehow freer. Will liked this version of her.

"Och, she"s alright, but everything"s got to be just so...proper. I"ll nae be an English lady, an" maybe I dinnae want to be. It"s all just a muckle load o" fannybaws." Lissie put her hand over her mouth, then grinned. "Och, excuse me."

Will"s eyes glistened. He did not know what fannybaws meant but got the general gist. Better still, he was getting a glimpse of the real Lissie, the one he had suspected was lurking beneath her polished demeanor.

"The thing is, I"m nae a lady, let alone Lady Elisabeth, I"m just plain auld Lissie from the glens." Lissie laughed a little at Will"s face. "An" I"m only here in London to get a rich husband, so run away fast."

There was a pause as Will took all this in.

"Well, then, Lissie," he began. He liked the sound of the name on his tongue. It was soft and slippery, a bit like her. "I thank ye for yer honesty," he added, giving her a wink.

"Aye, well, lad, now ye ken, ye run awa" fast," she said, but more soberly. Once again, Lissie looked around to mount her horse. Will watched in agitation.

"I"m not going," he said softly. All he wanted to do was cup her face and pull it close. The tease of her kiss drew him in. But she shook her head.

"Nay, o" course ye are. I can tell. I could see yer reaction back there. The ladies, the court, the laughing. No one in their right mind is going to wed me, let alone a lord!"

Lissie"s eyes widened pertinently, as if accusing him of something. Slowly, the penny dropped. Will looked up, shocked.

"You thought I was laughing at you?" he said in disbelief.

Lissie just stared. "Well, werenae ye?" she retorted. Then, with a pause, she softened. "I mean, I wouldnae blame ye. I would probably laugh at me!"

"Elisabeth," said Will, emboldened. "Lissie. I would never laugh at you. I..." Here, he faltered as his eyes met hers. "I just could not quite catch what you were saying, that was all. I am afraid your charming lilt did not quite reach my ears."

Will had explained it as best he could do. All he could hope was that she was not mortally offended.

"Ye couldnae understand me? Well, aye, ye see what I mean." She paused; a dart of fun flashed into her eyes. Then she was serious. "I mean, it couldnae work out. I am just nae right for ye. My cousin is right. She said so from the start and?—"

"Then your cousin is a fool," snapped Will. He had not quite meant to say it, but it just shot out. And when it was out there, there was no going back.

Slowly, Will approached her. He took her hand in his. Squeezing it, a sensation of utter sweetness descended over him.

This girl was warm.

Heady warmth spread out all through him, shooting down his loin and making him blink. He could not stop himself from putting his arm around her. Just to comfort her, he told himself, but his hands developed independent tendencies of their own.

Now suddenly, he wanted to soothe and caress her, running his fingers down her long hair, which fell in cascades.

Lissie turned toward him, her red lips pouting and hot. A surge came within Will, and he knew from the look of her that she felt it as well.

It was half an inch—not even a finger"s width between her and his face. He could feel the warmth burning against his cheek. A powerful desire overwhelmed Will to grab her with both hands and lie her down in the hay.

What better? What could be more natural and right?

Will brought a hand toward her, caressing her thick hair very slightly. Then, a voice pierced the air.

"William?"

Will"s eyes almost leaped out of his face.

His mother.

In double-quick timing, Will darted away. He nearly leaped a mile into the air. The shock set his heart racing. And, by the look of her, Lissie was just as abashed.

"Mother, I, I was just…" Will struggled to come up with some scenario to completely exonerate Lissie.

But before he could get to the end, his mother surged forward.

"I understand perfectly," said the duchess. Her furious blue eyes made it clear what she meant. "That you were accompanying this young lady to her horse, and "tis commendable," she continued, her face expressing the exact opposite. "But I believe the wagoner is waiting and that he will drive Lady Elisabeth back to her abode."

Lissie looked indignant. Still, she did not say anything.

"So I will leave you to make your goodbyes and then retire back to the house," continued his mother, her gray hair so sculpted back into its headdress it took on the appearance of molten iron.

Before Will could utter another word, his mother had gone, leaving Lissie staring at him.

"I must go," said Lissie, taking the hint that had been dropped on her from above. Startled, Will watched her as she gathered together her things and searched helplessly for her missing chopines.

Sensing a chance to help her, Will immediately dashed forward.

"Here," he said, presenting her with the tiny shoe. He could not help examining the shape of it, as it was pressed into his hand. "It"s so small," he said thoughtlessly, handing it to her.

Lissie took it with a curious expression.

"My feet have always been very wee," she said with an odd smile. Now she was sitting on a bale of hay beside the white horse, whom she nuzzled carefully.

Will watched, fascinated, at the sight of her intimacy. He wondered for a moment who would take the white horse home. The wagoner, probably. Except he already appeared to be getting ready by preparing his horses and waiting in the wagon nearby.

The sound of him shouting to his servants made Lissie look around in surprise.

"Och!" she said, noticing the wagoner was approaching. She was still attempting to put the shoe on her foot but appeared to be having difficulty.

Will was not surprised. He was more amazed anyone managed to ever put one of those contraptions on their feet in the first place.

"Here," he said, taking the tiny chopine and turning it around. He then placed it on Lissie"s other foot. The shoe fit snugly, although Will could not help wondering about the circulation in her toes.

In doing so, he caught a tantalizing glimpse of her ankle as she pulled up a wrinkle in her hose, adjusting her shoes. Of course, he turned his head swiftly to spare her the embarrassment, but he could not blot out the beautiful sight from his head.

"Thank ye," said Lissie sheepishly as she fastened the clasp on the shoe. "An" it helps to have it on the right foot!"

Will murmured something to the effect that it was hard to tell and watched, wistfully, as she made her goodbyes and darted off to the waiting wagon.

Will noted that nobody had come to collect the white mare yet, and wondered when they might do so. It seemed as if she was stabled for the night.

"Perchance I will see ye again?" he called hopefully as she disappeared.

Lissie just smiled, leaving Will in a state of uncertainty.

As he left the stables, he patted Lissie"s white mare fondly on the head. Then he closed his eyes, thinking.

Who was going to take her horse home?

* * *

"At last!"

His mother slammed the door shut on them the second they got into their wagon. Gazing wistfully out of the top of it, Will looked about to see if Lissie had gone yet.

She had.

The sound of hooves clopping down the pathway could be heard. In despondence, Will sat, waiting for her to disappear once and for all.

As soon as they were alone, the duchess turned on him, her full displeasure sparkling in her blue eyes. Will knew that look. She had fury in her about to be unleashed. Usually, Will would do his best to placate her. But this time, he was ready for a fight.

"William," said his mother, pursing her lips up, so tight, Will was amazed she could make a sound. "I think we need a small talk about appropriateness."

Will felt himself bristle. A spiky serge charged his veins. Somehow, he kept his voice cool. "Pardon?" he said icily.

The duchess turned toward him, her blue eyes piercing him coldly.

"The young woman," tutted his mother. "I struggle to use the term "lady.""

Will"s eyebrows somersaulted. He felt a hot indignation burn his throat.

"Mother! Just because she is not actually a noble… She has explained this."

The duchess looked even more alarmed. "She has?" she said, frowning. Tonight she was even more imperious, if that were possible, wearing what looked like an entire family of stoats sewn together. "I do not see how one can explain being hedge-born yet aping a noble."

She cast a scornful look at Will, which made him fume internally.

"She is not," he said simply. There was something in his mother"s tone that got his guard up immediately.

"It is of little importance," she said dismissively, flipping her gloves off and smacking them against her hand. "Because I need you to stay away from her."

Once again, her eyes went to his, flashing their meaning. "She is not the right girl for you and definitely not marriageable material. If we are to help get Mary-Ann a good match, then you must marry above yourself, or at least, no lower than a lady."

Will felt the steam rising in his head. Impatient, he disembarked from the wagon.

"No," he said curtly. It was not usual for him to defy his mother, but enough was enough.

This got the duchess"s attention. Stiffly, she turned to look at him.

Will had hopped down from the carriage and began walking away from the house. In dismay, his mother stuck her head out of the wagon.

"Will?" she asked, hurt. Will rolled his eyes mentally and tried to resist her tactics. "William, what on Earth is the meaning of this? You cannot afford a match that is that much lower than yourself!"

"That is up to me, Mother," said Will, without bothering to dress it up. He turned abruptly toward her. His mother gazed at him, aghast. Will almost laughed at the comical expression on her face.

"But-but," she began. "The girl was almost half-dressed! Her shawl was off, and her shoes missing! Those are not the actions of a lady."

But Will was in no mood to hear it. He had already had enough of stifling halls and vapid conversations for life. Lissie"s unexpected foray into the London scene was the best thing to happen to it in decades.

"If you must know, I was not keen on the idea of marriage, but I went along with it for the good of the family. You must also remember the good of our country. Remember, Scotland is where our true king is reputed to be headed, and Lissie is behind him."

Will looked quickly at his mother. In fact, this was an exaggeration. They had not talked of such matters, but he felt sure he had found an ally in her. Pressing on, he continued.

"And either way, Mother, whoever I marry will be my choice and mine alone."

And before his mother could utter another word, Will was bounding away, putting a clear distance between himself and his mother.

Brushing himself down, Will headed quickly for the stables. There, he found Florentine, Lissie"s white mare. Patting her gently, he slowly gained her confidence.

He would need it. Within minutes, he had mounted the surprised mare and began trotting it down along the driveway, out into the town.

The dusk was thickening, as above them, the night came towering down. It was pitch-black all over. Tonight, he would concentrate on getting home. But at first light, he would arise, dress for house calls, and be ready to ride.

Smiling at the reins, Will trotted smoothly out of the manor gates.

He had a plan.