Page 19 of By Any Other Name

At that moment, the butler appeared in the doorway of the drawing room. The conversation paused as they turned toward him. “Sir Andrew Rose,” he intoned.

“Sir Andrew!” Eleanor murmured, an odd note in her voice that caused Rylla to turn toward her friend again. It struck her that Eleanor was in her best looks this afternoon, despite the tedium of the ladies’ visit. Her cheeks were tinged with a becoming pink.

“And Mr. Gregory Rose,” the butler went on.

Rylla snapped back around. Her chest was suddenly tight. She wished she had a fan to occupy her hands. She dared not look Gregory in the eyes, yet she could not keep from watching him, either, as he and Andrew crossed the room to bow to her mother.

Her mind was filled with visions of the night before. It struck her suddenly how very far she had deviated from what was normal and expected. At the time, it had been exciting. Daring. And oh, so pleasurable. Now it occurred to her that she must have been mad to do the things she had.

“Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Miss Amaryllis Campbell,” her mother was saying. “Amaryllis, dear, Mr. Gregory Rose. He is Sir Andrew’s cousin, visiting him for Christmas. Isn’t that nice?”

Rylla had to look at him then. Gregory bowed to her, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. Her breath caught in her throat, and Rylla knew that, given the chance to do it all over, she would choose to do exactly what she had.

“Miss Campbell, it is a pleasure to meet you. Had I known Edinburgh offered such beauty, I would have come long before this.”

“And this is my daughter’s friend, who is staying with us for a few weeks, Miss Eleanor McIntyre,” Mrs. Campbell went on. Gregory turned to Eleanor, greeting her smoothly.

Given the arrival of new blood, it was clear that Lady Stewart and Mrs. Fraser had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Lady Stewart launched immediately into the subject dearest to her heart. “I do hope Sir Andrew brought you with him to my little party, Mr. Rose.”

“Indeed he did, and I was honored to attend. The hostesses of London could take lessons from you, my lady.” He turned to the sofa where Rylla and Eleanor sat. “My only regret is that I did not have the opportunity to dance with Miss Campbell or Miss McIntyre.”

Rylla’s heart tripped as he smiled into her eyes, and for once in her life, she was utterly tongue-tied.

Mrs. Fraser filled the silence, saying archly, “I am sure you will have the opportunity to dance with many young ladies on Twelfth Night, Mr. Rose.”

“I hope you are enjoying Edinburgh, Mr. Rose,” Rylla’s mother said. “But surely your parents must miss you at such a season.”

“My mother departed this world some years ago, I’m afraid. My father lives in seclusion in Orkney.”

“Ah, I see. I am sorry. Then you live alone?” Rylla’s mother continued her delicate probing, soon establishing that Gregory had no wife, fiancée, or any dependent, that his father was some sort of invalid, and that Gregory was in charge of all the man’s affairs.

As her mother turned to the subject of Gregory’s Edinburgh relatives, Rylla stifled a groan. Whatever was her mother doing? She was acting as if Gregory had come courting. What would Gregory think? And what was he doing here, anyway? It was irritating to be mired in this social chitchat, unable to ask a direct question about anything she actually wanted to know. It was also rather annoying that Gregory seemed perfectly at ease.

But as Gregory turned politely to reply to a comment from Lady Stewart, the frustrated glance he sent toward Rylla told her that he was chafing at the restrictions as much as she was. The knowledge made her inexplicably happier.

“Perhaps you will decide to stay in our fair city a little longer,” Mrs. Fraser told Gregory coyly.

“Yes, you should.” Lady Stewart nodded her head. “Edinburgh is lovely this time of year. Much more civilized than the Highlands.” She gave a little shudder.

“Yes, it is lovely.” Gregory smiled. “Sir Andrew and I were admiring the view as we walked over here. We intend to take a stroll through the park up the street.”

Andrew’s startled glance told Rylla that this intention was news to him.

“Perhaps Miss Campbell and Miss McIntyre would care to join us,” Gregory went on.

Andrew looked at his cousin as if he’d grown an extra head. “It’s snowing.”

“Exactly. So picturesque.” Gregory gave the other man a hard look. “The trees frosted with snow. Icicles dangling from tree limbs.”

Sir Andrew seemed momentarily bereft of speech. Before he could gather himself enough to reply, Rylla said brightly, “That sounds lovely! Doesn’t it, Eleanor?”

Eleanor, swifter of understanding than Sir Andrew, said, “Why, yes, I do love a walk in the snow.” She smiled at the two men. “I am so glad you thought of it, Sir Andrew. Mr. Rose.”

“Er, quite.” Sir Andrew adjusted his cuffs. “Wasn’t sure you’d like it, you see. Trudging through the damp. The cold and all.”

“Oh, no, we’d quite enjoy it.” Rylla sprang to her feet, followed by Eleanor.

The two girls escaped to don their boots and cloaks before Mrs. Campbell could decide to object to the outing. As they climbed the stairs, Eleanor commented, “I was rather surprised by Mr. Rose today. I had the impression he was shy.”