Page 29 of Death at a Highland Wedding
That didn’t seem like what he was about to say. It’s as if he’d had something else on his mind and switched midstream.
Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s just not sure how I’ll react to this news. The answer is “delighted.”
I haven’t met Frances Gray. She lives in Europe. Currently Italy… I think. She moves around, and mostly, her children go to her, but she does come for a summer visit. Last year, she hadn’t—she’d been volunteering in a community suffering an outbreak of influenza.
“I figured she’d be back,” I say, “considering Mrs. Wallace has only told me a million times that I need to be on my best behavior when she arrives.” I stop. “Is that the problem? Are you concerned about me?”
“Of course not.”
I push onto my elbows. “If you are, you can say so. I’ll stay with Annis while your mother is here.”
His lips twitch though the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I would never torture you so.”
“I wouldn’t mind. I know I struggle to act like a proper Victorian at the town house. I’m home, so I relax. Simon and Alice and Jack accept the ‘Catriona head injury’ excuse, but your mom might be a lot more suspicious. Like Mrs. Wallace.”
“I am not concerned about that.”
“I’m serious, Duncan. If you are at all worried about my behavior, I get it. Zero offense taken. When it comes to acting like a proper Victorian lady, I’m a work in progress.” I pause. “Or is the issue me being your assistant?”
“Not at all. Isla and I have both spoken of you on our visits, and our mother is only pleased that I have a suitable aide. She knows…” He clears his throat. “She knows me well enough to know I would never promote you for untoward reasons.”
“Good.” I gaze up into the stars and then say, “I’ve been trying to come up with solutions for that. To keep people from making the wrong presumptions.”
I tell him about my fake-boyfriend story, and he laughs softly.
“You… put a great deal of thought into that one,” he says.
“But it won’t work. I know.”
A moment of silence, before he says, tentatively, “Does it bother you more than you have let on? That people make that assumption?”
“It pisses me off on your behalf. That’s what worries me. I don’t have a reputation to protect. You do.”
“But anyone who knows me understands I would not take advantage of you. And anyone who comes to know you realizes you are a worthy assistant. Even if strangers draw the wrong conclusions, they do no more than snicker and smirk, which insults you far more than me. That is what concerns me, and I will admit I have been seeking a solution as well.”
Silence as we stargaze for a while. Then he says, “If strangers presume you are more than my employee, you fear that damages my reputation because… why exactly? Because Catriona is a decade my junior? Or not of my social class?”
“Both.”
“While I would never dally with someone who was actually so young, it would be no cause for scandal. At twenty, Catriona would be more than old enough to form a relationship.”
“I know.”
“Andyouarenottwenty. Do you feel her age? As if you are so much younger than me?”
I shake my head. “To me, we’re the same age. Well, you’re nearly a year older, but that’s nothing.”
“As for social class, we do suspect Catriona came from a middle-class background. Even if she did not, a man of my class wooing a woman of a lower class is only cause for mild scandal. It is not an earl wooing a serving girl. You are a fully independent employee.”
“I know.”
“So… it would not be…” He clears his throat. “That is to say, if it is presumed I am wooing you, that is not high scandal.”
It would be presumed he’sbeddingme, not wooing, but I don’t clarifythat. Unless we were caught naked, itcouldbe a chaste wooing. He hired a young woman he fancies in hopes of catching her eye and getting to know her better, with an eye toward marriage. As he’s said, the difference in our age and social class wouldn’t make for a scandalous marriage.
“I worry too much,” I say.
“You do, and almost exclusively on behalf of others. If this bothers you and you wish a solution, I will continue to think of one. But please do not be concerned on my behalf.” He looks over at me. “I would do nothing to hurt you, Mallory. In any way.”
