couldn’t risk it.
“At least not anywhere your stepmother and stepsisters can see,” Lord Lumley continued. “I wouldn’t dare put your Hester and Joe in peril.”
“No. Never.” She felt vaguely hopeful again. And guilty. Nothing could ever imperil Joe and Hester.
“So have no fear,” the viscount said. “Next time, we’ll be completely secluded, so you can enjoy yourself.”
Her head was still spinning, and her lips were tingling. “But I did enjoy myself.”
“Not as much as you could,” he said.
“There will be no next time,” she reminded him, because she did have fear—those fears about Hester and Joe. And the other fear, the one the Furies had taunted her with last night. But she was also angry that things had gotten to this point—that her stepfamily had made her so afraid that she couldn’t live without worrying about people she loved.
“What strategy will you employ with Mr. Beebs to get him to agree to our using the Keep?” asked the viscount.
Not only had he completely changed the subject, he appeared to be thinking clearly, while she was still blinking, trying to forget the feel of his hand caressing her back and his lips teasing her own.
“Mr. Beebs doesn’t mix with the neighborhood,” she said, “but it appears he has a fondness for Cassandra. Perhaps he’ll say yes for that reason alone.”
But inside, she was thinking that the viscount’s lips had done magic, had cast her under a spell in which she couldn’t concentrate on anything but getting another kiss.
“Then Cassandra should ask him,” he said.
“Ask him what?”
“If we can borrow the Keep.” Lord Lumley squinted at her. “Are you listening?”
“Of course.” Daisy blushed and gave a nervous shrug. “I wouldn’t recommend that. Cassandra’s so rude, Mr. Beebs might catch on she doesn’t like him. No, I think I’d better. Let’s go. Right away.” She began the walk to the Keep, hugging herself as she stumbled along, wondering if their idea was so preposterous that Mr. Beebs would laugh it off or call the constable.
But she was also thinking about how she’d kissed the viscount.
Three times now .
Lord Lumley joined her with all their fishing gear and the bag of trout. “If Mr. Beebs says yes, we’ll have to make a plan.”
Her hand swung close to his side, the side with the trout. But she was thinking about how she’d seen that hole in the back of his breeches the day before and how sad it was that he wasn’t wearing the same pair any longer.
“Mr. Beebs has a skeleton staff at the Keep,” she managed to say. “But we’ll need extra maids, cooks, and footmen.”
“Will the men from the village be willing to lead a hunt and pull together a small Highland games?”
“I hope so.” Daisy was actually a bit worried about that. “They don’t get along the way they used to. All the village’s problems used to be resolved during the games and the hunt. Now differences simmer.”
“Is it the same with the women?”
“Yes. They’ve become quite catty, mainly because their husbands are testy with each other. But we’ll need them, as well, to do the cooking for the hunt and the games.”
“What about the ceilidh ?”
“We’ll need everyone to dance. And we must have fiddlers and pipers.”
They were halfway to the Keep now.
The viscount’s nearness was still affecting her.
“Even if only half of the anglers come back to Glen Dewey,” he said, “we could make your four hundred pounds. They were rich. They spent vast sums freely. They were also fascinated by the idea of kilts and clans and all the things that Sir Walter Raleigh writes about. I must admit, I am, too. If I had access to my usual wealth, I’d be the first to jump at the chance to stay at the Keep and play Highland warrior.”
“That’s wonderful to know.” Daisy allowed herself the luxury of imagining him in a kilt for a fleeting second before returning to matters at hand. “But what’s even better is
“At least not anywhere your stepmother and stepsisters can see,” Lord Lumley continued. “I wouldn’t dare put your Hester and Joe in peril.”
“No. Never.” She felt vaguely hopeful again. And guilty. Nothing could ever imperil Joe and Hester.
“So have no fear,” the viscount said. “Next time, we’ll be completely secluded, so you can enjoy yourself.”
Her head was still spinning, and her lips were tingling. “But I did enjoy myself.”
“Not as much as you could,” he said.
“There will be no next time,” she reminded him, because she did have fear—those fears about Hester and Joe. And the other fear, the one the Furies had taunted her with last night. But she was also angry that things had gotten to this point—that her stepfamily had made her so afraid that she couldn’t live without worrying about people she loved.
“What strategy will you employ with Mr. Beebs to get him to agree to our using the Keep?” asked the viscount.
Not only had he completely changed the subject, he appeared to be thinking clearly, while she was still blinking, trying to forget the feel of his hand caressing her back and his lips teasing her own.
“Mr. Beebs doesn’t mix with the neighborhood,” she said, “but it appears he has a fondness for Cassandra. Perhaps he’ll say yes for that reason alone.”
But inside, she was thinking that the viscount’s lips had done magic, had cast her under a spell in which she couldn’t concentrate on anything but getting another kiss.
“Then Cassandra should ask him,” he said.
“Ask him what?”
“If we can borrow the Keep.” Lord Lumley squinted at her. “Are you listening?”
“Of course.” Daisy blushed and gave a nervous shrug. “I wouldn’t recommend that. Cassandra’s so rude, Mr. Beebs might catch on she doesn’t like him. No, I think I’d better. Let’s go. Right away.” She began the walk to the Keep, hugging herself as she stumbled along, wondering if their idea was so preposterous that Mr. Beebs would laugh it off or call the constable.
But she was also thinking about how she’d kissed the viscount.
Three times now .
Lord Lumley joined her with all their fishing gear and the bag of trout. “If Mr. Beebs says yes, we’ll have to make a plan.”
Her hand swung close to his side, the side with the trout. But she was thinking about how she’d seen that hole in the back of his breeches the day before and how sad it was that he wasn’t wearing the same pair any longer.
“Mr. Beebs has a skeleton staff at the Keep,” she managed to say. “But we’ll need extra maids, cooks, and footmen.”
“Will the men from the village be willing to lead a hunt and pull together a small Highland games?”
“I hope so.” Daisy was actually a bit worried about that. “They don’t get along the way they used to. All the village’s problems used to be resolved during the games and the hunt. Now differences simmer.”
“Is it the same with the women?”
“Yes. They’ve become quite catty, mainly because their husbands are testy with each other. But we’ll need them, as well, to do the cooking for the hunt and the games.”
“What about the ceilidh ?”
“We’ll need everyone to dance. And we must have fiddlers and pipers.”
They were halfway to the Keep now.
The viscount’s nearness was still affecting her.
“Even if only half of the anglers come back to Glen Dewey,” he said, “we could make your four hundred pounds. They were rich. They spent vast sums freely. They were also fascinated by the idea of kilts and clans and all the things that Sir Walter Raleigh writes about. I must admit, I am, too. If I had access to my usual wealth, I’d be the first to jump at the chance to stay at the Keep and play Highland warrior.”
“That’s wonderful to know.” Daisy allowed herself the luxury of imagining him in a kilt for a fleeting second before returning to matters at hand. “But what’s even better is
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