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Once Upon a Midnight Masquerade: Scot to the Heart #3 Page 3
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Donovan shook his head and returned to the table, placing the plate before her. “I dinna ken yer preference. I hope ye’ll enjoy it.”
She smiled up at him, her emerald eyes sparkling, a bright smile upon her very kissable lips. “Thank you, Mr. MacGregor. I’m certain all of your choices will be quite delicious.”
Donovan took his seat next to hers and prayed others carried the conversation so that he’d not be forced to say more than was necessary because he couldn’t voice what was on his mind, or ask the question that burned – why had Lady Claresta attended a ball being held by a madam?
“What brings you to London, Mr. MacGregor?” Mrs. Chambers asked, making polite conversation.
“Family business,” he answered.
“What is your family business?” Chambers inquired.
“Wool and grains.” He couldn’t very well tell them the truth—that he was to remain as the man of business for the MacGregors’ whisky smuggling.
Lady Claresta frowned. “Wool and grains?”
“Sheep and feed,” he answered. “We raise and grow both.”
“Do you ship your grain to London, along with your wool?” Lady Claresta inquired.
“Nay, we havena as of yet.” Though why hadn’t they? The weight of the wheat and barley could better mask the bottles of whisky than the light wool. It was certainly something to consider and discuss with Bridges.
“Mr. MacGregor, are there sights that you’d like to enjoy while you are in town? There is much to see and do in your free time,” Mrs. Chambers offered. “And so many lovely shops to visit.”
“I doona ken. I arrived only a day ago. What shops would ye suggest I visit?”
Lady Claresta frowned. “I suppose that depends…on what you are in need of.”
Donovan bit back a grin at her it depends. That hadn’t been well done of him, but he’d yet to determine if he’d ask a favor for his silence. Nothing scandalous, of course, but he couldn’t let the opportunity of spending more time with his Juliet slip through his fingers.
“A bookshop perhaps?” he asked. “One with a selection of Shakespeare? My books remain at home, but I find I enjoy readin’ them often.”
Mr. and Mrs. Chambers groaned as Lady Claresta choked on the wine she’d been sipping.
“Are you well, Lady Claresta?” he asked with concern.
“Yes,” she croaked out. “Thank you for asking,” she murmured before taking another sip.
“Do ye not enjoy Shakespeare?” he asked the Chambers. Or were they aware of Lady Claresta playing Juliet? And if so, had she told them about the Romeo, what they’d done and had determined it was him?
Donovan’s throat began to close as the consequences of that evening invaded his being. Was he soon to be told that he’d be marrying the lady beside him?
“Shakespeare is well and good, I suppose, when viewed upon a stage,” Mrs. Chambers answered. “However, Claresta admires the Bard far more than any author in history or at present. I’m certain she could advise you on where you might purchase all of his works.”
“Is that so?” Donovan asked with interest as he turned to his dinner partner, who’d grown quite pink.
“Hatchards,” she finally answered.
“There are other bookshops,” Mrs. Chambers laughed. “But, Lady Claresta visits that particular one at least once a week.”
Lady Claresta glanced down at her plate, which remained full of the food he’d brought back to her. Was she simply not hungry or had his appearance robbed her of her appetite?
“Perhaps ye might honor me and be my guide,” he proposed. This would be the perfect opportunity for him to spend more time with his Juliet and learn what she’d been about in Edinburgh.
Most of the color had drained from her face, yet she nodded. “It would be my honor to do so, Mr. MacGregor.”
Did she suddenly fear him, or only fear what he might reveal? “If ye’re free tomorrow, perhaps ye could plan an outin’.”
“Yes, of course.”
He glanced across the table to Chambers and remembered himself. He shouldn’t have asked without first consulting her guardian. “I should speak with yer father, to gain his permission.”
“My parents are in the country,” Lady Claresta assured him. “Mr. Chambers is acting as my guardian for the time being.”
“As long as Lady Claresta takes her maid, I see no harm,” Chambers assured him.
“I look forward to our outin’, Lady Claresta.”
“I as well, Mr. MacGregor.”
Chapter 3
Romeo had come to London and he was to call on her tomorrow.
Claresta couldn’t decide if her nerves were from anticipation and excitement or dread, as he’d not yet promised to hold her secret. What had he meant by it depends?
Depends on what?
At least he hadn’t said anything to Dillon and Emily…yet.
“Is all well with you, Claresta?” Emily asked from across the carriage.
“I’ve a headache coming on.” The pain had started at the base of her skull following supper and Mr. MacGregor taking his leave.
“I hope you are recovered by tomorrow afternoon. It would be a shame to cancel your plans with Mr. MacGregor.”
Claresta didn’t care if her head threatened to explode, she’d still keep the appointment. Mr. MacGregor possessed information that nobody else knew, and it could be the ruin of her. So much so, that it wouldn’t matter that her father was the Duke of Ellings or not.
As soon as they arrived home, Claresta rushed up to her chambers and burst through the door. Esther was dozing in a chair by the fire but roused herself at Claresta’s entrance.
“Oh, Esther, you’ll never believe what happened,” Claresta cried. “Romeo has come to London.”
The maid paled. “Are you certain?”
“Quite,” Claresta assured her. “And he recognized me.”
Esther put a hand to her breast. “Oh, dear. I shall be sacked and you’ll be ruined.”
“We needn’t panic yet,” Claresta assured her maid as much as she tried to assure herself. “Mr. MacGregor has held onto my secret so far.” She peeled off her gloves and tossed them as she paced across the chamber.
Esther caught the gloves and set them aside. “Let’s get you ready for bed and you can tell me all about him.”
“Bed! I couldn’t sleep now.”
“Lady Claresta, it is nearly two in the morning. You should rest.”
Claresta let out a sigh and dropped into the chair. “Yes, I should, but I’m not certain I can.”
Esther knelt at Claresta’s feet and removed her shoes, then her stockings.
“I’m to take him to Hatchards.”
“Is that so?” Esther motioned her to stand, then began to help remove Claresta’s gown.
“He’s to call on me tomorrow.” And she must somehow convince him to hold her secrets. How, she wasn’t certain.
* * *
Juliet was Lady Claresta.
The shock still had not worn off and might not for some time.
And Donovan still had no answer as to why she’d appeared at that ball. Proper ladies wouldn’t even admit to knowing of light-skirts, let alone be in the same vicinity as them.
Was there a secret Lady Claresta kept from her family and friends?
Was she as innocent as they believed?
Yes! His brain automatically answered. That was what had drawn him to her in Edinburgh, and her kisses had lacked the practiced art of seduction that mistresses had perfected long ago. Yet, she’d appeared at the type of ball that no lady would even acknowledge.
“Is Lady Claresta someone I should avoid? Is her reputation lacking? Is her boldness normal for a lady of Society?” They were questions worth asking since all the other lasses he’d observed at the ball were timid and shy in comparison.
“The answer to all three of your questions is no,” Bridges had laughed.
“Her reputation is above reproach. No one has ever
had cause to gossip about Lady Claresta. At least not with a negative connotation,” Genviève Bridges had assured him.
Donovan mused over what he’d been told. He’d barely slept last night as Juliet had once again invaded his dreams, but this time when they disrobed, the gold mask was removed, tossed aside and he had a face to gaze upon.
However, he mustn’t think about that today. She was an intriguing lass, and he did wish to come to know her better, but he feared her bold recklessness might, in the end, be too much. Besides, he wasn’t in London to court anyone and had no wish for a wife. Lady Claresta would only be a charming distraction.
After Donovan arrived at the Chambers’ townhouse in Mayfair, he wasn’t left to cool his heels for above a moment as Lady Claresta appeared almost immediately, her golden hair pulled up, though a few stray ringlets caressed her neck. Her emerald eyes were only deepened in contrast to the pale green walking dress that emphasized her femininity far more than the ballgown had the night before. She smiled brightly as if she found joy in simply breathing, nearly stealing the breath from his lungs.
“Mr. MacGregor, I am so pleased to see you again.” She came forward and offered him her hand.
He’d unsettled her last evening, but today she behaved as if there were no secrets between them, or that he’d not kissed her nearly senseless upon their first meeting. Was the display for the servants?
“Good afternoon, Lady Claresta.” He bowed over her hand.
“Shall we set out?” She linked her arm in his and guided him to the foyer where she accepted a bonnet from the servant and then tied the green ribbon beneath her chin. “If you are up to it, and interested, I thought perhaps I might show you Bond Street, Piccadilly, and the surrounding area.”
He knew those names. Just because Donovan hadn’t visited London, didn’t mean he hadn’t been told what the city offered. “Ye wish to go shoppin’?”
“Oh, the fear in your eyes,” she teased.
Donovan had thought he covered his disappointment and wariness well, but Lady Claresta was more perceptive than he realized. “I am happy to shop if that is what ye wish to do.” Though there were at least a dozen alternatives that he’d rather take part in, none of which he should be contemplating with regard to an English lady.
Bloody hell, why couldn’t he forget about that night, and why must she return to him in his dreams so often?
“I shall not be doing any shopping,” she assured him as they stepped out onto the walk, her maid following. “However, it is important that you are familiar with the area.”
As he did not like to shop, Donovan saw no purpose.
“You may find you’re in need of clothing, for which I would recommend Saville. Or what if your boots are ruined, or you require a new hat or any manner of items? You only arrived two days ago. Are you so certain you packed everything that you would need?”
She was to be his guide? Is that what she was about? Would her pretense slip once they were alone?
She was a bit dictatorial for a lass, and Donovan had quite enough of being told what to do by his sister and female cousins, not that he ever bowed to them, of course. Would any of them ever learn that it was the man who should make most decisions?
A footman opened the door to the carriage and Donovan offered his hand first to Lady Claresta and then her maid as they entered. He then took a seat across from them.
“This is Esther, my maid,” Lady Claresta introduced the young woman.
A smile pulled as he recognized the woman now that he looked closely. “It is good to see you again, Nurse.”
The maid paled and glanced down at her hands. Lady Claresta may wish to forget that night, or at least that was how she currently behaved, but he wasn’t about to let her, and since her maid already knew of the transgression, Donovan felt that he could finally speak freely.
“As we were unable to continue our conversation last evenin’, today is the perfect opportunity,” he said. Lady Claresta might wish to dictate how the day would proceed, but he wasn’t going to be led around by her.
“Can we not enjoy the day and forget about Edinburgh?” she begged.
Had he been the only one impacted by their waltz, kiss and Shakespearean banter? “Have ye forgotten about the ball?” Donovan returned.
As the bright color flushed on her cheeks, Donovan was satisfied that she recalled the evening as clearly as he did. But had the memory haunted her as well? Unfortunately, that was not a question he could ask in front of her maid.
“For now, I will hold my silence,” he assured her. Donovan didn’t wish for Lady Claresta to be tense all afternoon. Further, and with more consideration, he didn’t wish anyone to be present when he and Juliet discussed the night in question, as Donovan may have questions that the maid didn’t need to hear.
“For now, but what of later?” she asked.
That he could not answer, as he still didn’t know why she’d been there. If she were a lady who was intent on going places no lady should know about, he would need to advise her guardian. But until he knew for certain, he’d hold his tongue. “It depends.”
“That’s what you said last evening,” Lady Claresta cried. “Depends on what?”
“That, I’ve not yet decided.”
Lady Claresta glared at him, her eyes as sharp as newly cut emeralds.
Donovan simply smiled. He had a younger sister and two younger female cousins and there was nothing that Lady Claresta could say or do that would intimidate him or cause him to alter his decision, as he was well-versed in avoiding female manipulation.
The carriage did not travel far before it came to a stop on Piccadilly in front of Hatchards and a footman opened the door then placed the step to assist Lady Claresta.
“This shan’t take long as I know where the books Mr. MacGregor is interested in purchasing are shelved.” A slight smile pulled at Lady Claresta’s lips and Donovan followed her into the shop and down the stacks until she stopped before the selection of books. “Which one would you prefer?” She stood back and folded her hands before her.
Was she challenging him? To what purpose?
Donovan skimmed over reading the titles, then pulled away. “It isna’ here.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s not possible. Hatchards has always carried a complete selection of Shakespeare. Which book are you looking for?”
The corner of his mouth quirked, and Donovan fought to control his smile. “Need you ask, fair Juliet?” he whispered.
Lady Claresta gasped, then quickly looked about.
He knew that no one was near, at least not close enough to hear his quiet tone.
“However, I do take great pleasure in Venus and Adonis, Merchant of Venice, and Much Ado About Nothing.” As he said the titles, he pulled the books from the shelves. “Though, I had hoped to revisit Romeo and Juliet.” The last was said with a whisper near her ear.
Lady Claresta shivered as if she was suddenly chilled, but as it was quite warm, her reaction was much closer to desire, which couldn’t have pleased him more.
Oh, to bed his sweet Juliet would be quite pleasurable indeed, but as she was an unmarried lady, all Donovan could do was to keep her aware of him as much as he was of her so that he needn’t suffer alone.
After he’d made his purchases, they returned to the carriage to find Esther waiting outside. He set the books inside the coach and then offered his arm to Juliet. “Are we to walk or ride?”
Lady Claresta lifted her chin. “We shall walk.”
Chapter 4
Blast that man. If he’d just tell her what it would take to hold his silence, she’d capitulate, within reason, of course. Had he asked her inside Hatchards, when he leaned in to whisper, his warm breath on her neck, she might have agreed to anything, and for that very reason she must keep her wits about her. Donovan MacGregor could prove to be a very dangerous man. With each smile, her heart nearly melted as the queerest, warm sensation developed in her belly. She’d only experienced the likes of it onc
e before—in Edinburgh. Now that she had experienced it again, Claresta realized how much of her memory had faded because she’d quite forgotten how his warm breath nearly ignited flames within her.
However, she mustn’t let his presence affect her further. She needed to prove to Mr. MacGregor that she was a lady of high moral character despite her transgression last summer, and to do so, she must gain the upper hand as she guided him through the shopping avenues.
From Hatchards, they continued onto Fortnum and Mason, then stopped before Floris. Claresta hadn’t intended on going in because she couldn’t imagine that Mr. MacGregor would wish to do so.
“I know this name.” He frowned as if trying to remember why.
“It’s an excellent perfume shop.”
He started to smile. “Aye, now I remember.” He turned to her. “Do ye mind if we step inside?”
“Of course not, Mr. MacGregor. This is your day to explore.”
He held the door so Claresta could entered, but Esther remained outside on the walk.
“If only I could recall the name of the scent. She’d complained that she was nearly out and dinna ken when she’d have the opportunity to obtain another bottle.”
She? Claresta had assumed Mr. MacGregor was a bachelor. He had attended the ball with Mr. and Mrs. Bridges and with no lady on his arm. But he’d also recently traveled from Scotland. Did someone wait for him in Bonnybridge? Had Claresta miscalculated in believing him to be free of romantic entanglements? “Did she shop here often?” Claresta asked. “If she’d been a regular customer, then the clerk may know the scent. If she’d been visiting and only made one purchase, then that will be unhelpful.”
“Rose used to live in London, when not at the family estate, so I’m certain she visited regularly.”
Rose? He was familiar enough to call the woman by her first name? He’d said the name with such caring that an unexpected and unfamiliar jealousy stabbed Claresta’s heart. Perhaps she’d made a grave miscalculation. It was not unusual for a husband to take a mistress and as she’d first met MacGregor at a ball filled with light-skirts, was that what he had intended for her while his wife had remained home, completely unaware?