Page 15

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Henriette shook her head. “I cannot believe your mother chastised you in such a manner.”

They were headed to a performance put on by a local string quartet. It was to be outdoors, and it was sure to be the perfect escape as her mother and sister did not plan to attend, citing the lack of adequate cover from the sun. Siobhan suspected it was more likely they would not attend because no one of note—in their estimation, anyway—was to be there.

It suited Siobhan just fine as the last thing she wished to do was to attend any event with them at the moment.

Upon arriving at the gates to the gathering, her mood lifted. Women in colorful afternoon gowns strolled the gardens and clustered about the refreshments served at beautifully decorated tables as they awaited for the announcement that the performance would begin. In another part of the garden, rows of chairs were arranged in a semi-circle which would allow everyone to see the performers. They were also arranged so that there was space for attendees to get up for additional refreshments or to converse during breaks. After acquiring beverages, Siobhan, Henriette, and Jean-Paul chose chairs at the end of a row.

As soon as the first bars of music flowed over them, Siobhan noticed Miles. He was escorting a woman to sit and then lowered to the chair beside her. Since the woman was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, she could not see who it was. However she could tell that the woman was elegantly dressed in a lavender gown, and that she had golden hair which spilled over her shoulders from beneath the head covering.

Henriette caught a glimpse of Lord Miles as well, and she jabbed an elbow into her side. “He’s here with someone,” her friend whispered.

“I noticed,” Siobhan replied. “Who is she?”

“I think it is Glenora McIntyre,” Henriette replied. “She is very wealthy, and somewhat older than we are. And older than Miles! I think she’s a widow.”

Because of Mother’s interest in society gossip, Siobhan was familiar with the woman. Glenora was very lovely and, from what she’d heard, well-liked. However, at the moment, she herself was not inclined to like the woman. All interest in the entertainment faded as she watched the interaction between Miles and Glenora.

Every so often they spoke to each other, probably about the musical piece. For the most part, they remained attentive to the music, neither of them drinking nor eating anything.

Seeming to sense her watching, Miles turned in her direction. Before he caught her, she looked away, pretending she hadn’t noticed him and most definitely that she wasn’t watching his every move. Still, out of the corner of her eye, she could see his gaze lingering on her, and could even feel it; her skin tingled, and her heart pounded. Finally, however, the sensation left her and when she carefully peeked at him, he was speaking again to Glenora.

Once intermission arrived, Henriette stood. “The music is wonderful. It flows gently over us, touching every sense.”

Jean-Paul gave his sister a droll look. “Poetry, dear sister?”

Henriette rolled her eyes and huffed. “I am stating what I feel.”

“Well. I feel like going for a walk,” Jean-Paul said, and hastened off to wander through the gardens. Siobhan suspected he’d seen a young lady he wished to pursue and was using the opportunity—and the privacy afforded by the topiaries—to meet her.

She wished she could walk through the garden too, though there was no one she wished to meet. Not anymore. Because the object of her desire was here with someone else. “I agree. The music was beautifully performed,” Siobhan replied, still distracted and watching Miles and Glenora standing together, still talking. But then, a pair of women approached the couple and soon after, Miles walked away from the trio. Her heart began to pound as she realized he was heading in her direction.

“I will go fetch something to eat. I am famished.” Before Henriette could insist on going with her, she hurried away toward a stall that she hoped sold something good. Hopefully he would not approach her. If word got to her mother that she’d defied her orders, she worried she might not be allowed on any more outings with Henriette for fear she’d ruin her plans to land a lord for Amelia.

But her hopes were thwarted as Miles caught up to her, arriving at her side. “Miss Blair, are you avoiding me?” His velvety voice seemed to wrap her in warmth like a cloak. “Perhaps you did not see my approach.”

When she looked up at him, a smile played at the corner of his lips; he knew she was running away from him, and he was laughing about it! Her heart skipped a beat. Not only because he was teasing her—and obviously pursuing her—but also because, dressed in deep blue, he made a wickedly dashing picture.

Still, she tried to maintain an air of normalcy and not let him know how he affected her. “I am not, my Lord. I am famished, as I skipped morning meal.” She motioned to the stand they’d approached.

“I see.” He took her elbow and guided her to another stall. “You must be particularly famished. It seems to have affected your eyes, Miss Blair because if you’re hungry then you should eat food, and not fans.”

Her face warmed as she realized she’d been heading toward a stall that displayed fans for sale. She let him lead her to where a heavy-set woman sold honeyed oat cakes. Miles purchased three, and handed one to her.

Perhaps she really was too spirited, she thought, because she possessed none of the man-catching wiles her mother and sister seemed to have; it was impossible for her not to be forthright and express exactly what she was thinking. “Your companion may not take lightly to you speaking to me during intermission.” Siobhan stole a glance in the direction where the woman continued in what seemed a lively conversation with her companions.

Miles lifted an eyebrow. “She asked for something sweet to eat.” He shrugged as if unconcerned by the widow. “Are you planning to attend the Mackenzie’s ball tomorrow night?”

Her heart soared even as her stomach fell. “I am not.” She took a deep breath. “But since you are planning to attend, I must advise you to avoid the gardens.”

His eyebrows rose, but she shook her head. She wouldn’t reveal her mother and sister’s plans. She had to remain loyal to her family, even as she disagreed with their tactics. “Thank you for the honey cake, my lord.” With that, she swept around him and walked to meet Henriette.

But through the rest of the performance, Siobhan could not pay attention. Her mind kept returning to Miles and why he’d asked about her attending the ball. It was strange, but she could not shake the feeling that he’d seemed relieved and not disappointed when she’d said she would not be going. Or had she imagined it?

She could not help but worry about it. Was it possible that he planned to escort Glenora, and did not wish for Siobhan to be there and embarrass him in some manner? Did he, too, think she was too “spirited”, like her mother and sister and practically everyone else? Her eyes narrowed in his direction just as he peered over at her.

Their eyes clashed. She kept her eyes narrowed in response to his questioning gaze. Why even bother? What did she care how he felt? It was of no consequence, not to her. It could not be of any consequence.