Chapter One
Scottish Highlands, April, 1775
She’d done it. She’d escaped. Lorelei Caldwell sank back against the leather squab of the Earl of Bute’s carriage and turned to Fiona MacGregor, her recent sister-by-marriage.
“Can you believe we are finally on our way to London? For theSeason?”
Fiona grinned. “And best of all, none of my meddling brothers are escorting us.”
“Thatissomething to be grateful for.”
“Mayhap the faeries had something to do with the timing,” Fiona suggested, still grinning.
Lorelei nodded. “I am beginning to believe in the Fae myself.” She was only half jesting. Fiona had five big, brawny brothers who felt it their duty to interfere with anything that amounted to having a bit of fun. Luckily, they’d been distracted lately. Ian had married Lorelei’s older sister Emily in December, Rory had become handfasted to her other sister Juliana—which was quite a story in itself—Devon wouldn’t be caught dead south of the border, and Carr had been called to Inverness. Alasdair was still away in Ireland, which was especially beneficial, since he was the one most likely to have an eye trained on her. Really, just because there had been a few instances—such as when she’d thrown wine on the despicable Neal Cameron—who’d tried to ruin her sister, and Alasdair had had to intervene to keep the vile man from retaliating—didn’t mean she needed a keeper. Granted, she’d been aware of the envious looks because Alasdair had come to her rescue. With his black hair and jade eyes, he was a handsome man, to say nothing of his height and muscular build. Lorelei would even admit, at least to herself, that she liked his attentions. Still. Shedidhave enough sense not to cross in front of a team of galloping horses even though he acted as though she didn’t. At least she’d be safely in London before he returned home, which was supposed to be any day.
“Why are ye frowning?”
Lorelei shook her head. “It is nothing. I hope we did not leave anything behind.” Except Fiona’s brother…not that she was going to mention that.
“Your sisters helped us pack, so I’m sure we have it all,” Fiona replied and patted the soft leather of the seat. “I am so glad Lord Bute lent us his carriage. We’ll arrive in real grandeur.”
“That we will.” The Earl of Bute, who had been instrumental in helping the MacGregor clan reclaim their name, was attending to months-long business in Scotland and had lent Fiona and herself his personal carriage for the ride to London, since they’d be staying with his family, and his wife was sponsoring them for the Season.
“Aye.” Fiona sank back against the seat. “I like to think the Faerie Queen agrees ’tis time we show my overbearing, bossy brothers we are more than capable of taking care of ourselves.”
Lorelei frowned slightly. Luck and coincidence probably didn’t have anything to do with the situation. But she and Fiona were free as birds and—at only eight-and-ten—on their way to London for a whole set of adventures without any bossy men or older sisters reining them in.
…
Five days later, the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a four-story town home on South Audley Street in Mayfair. The earl’s London residence was quite impressive, and Fiona rounded her eyes like an owl at the sight. Lorelei hid a smile.
“This is where we will be staying?” Fiona asked.
“Yes. It is in one of the best locations.”
“’Tis verra grand. Grander even than the ones being built in Edinburgh.” Fiona sat back. “Are ye glad to be home?”
“It does feel good to be back in Town,” Lorelei answered, althoughhomewasn’t exactly a fitting word anymore. Emily had had to sell their own town house last summer when her opium-addicted husband, the Earl of Woodhaven, had died and left a mountain of debts. Through a quirk of Fate, her sister had been granted title to Strae Castle, a former MacGregor holding in the Highlands.Thathad kept them from being homeless. “I am definitely looking forward to having a fantastic time at all the balls, routs, and soirees.”
“I hope I get invitations.” Fiona sounded a bit wistful. “I ken Scots are nae well-liked everywhere.”
Lorelei reached over and patted her hand. “You will be fine. The countess will make sure we are both included. Do not—how do you say it?Doona fash.”
Fiona smiled at that. “We may make ye into a Scot yet.”
Before she could answer, the door to the town home opened and a footman came out to open the carriage door and set down the steps. He opened his hand and Fiona looked at Lorelei expectantly.
“He wants to assist you.”
“Do I need assistance? ’Tis a wee small step.”
She hid another smile. “That is true, but in London, ladies are expected to act like they need help with all sorts of things.”
Fiona frowned and Lorelei couldn’t hold her smile in any longer. Back in Scotland, Fiona had worn breeches, saddled her own horse, and could throw a knife with alarming speed and accuracy. Not that those skills would be needed here, any more than Lorelei’s childhood obsession with climbing trees. At last, Fiona did allow the footman to assist her.
The butler, attired in proper livery, met them inside the door and inclined his head ever so slightly. “I am Belton. The countess and her daughter will receive you in the front parlor.” He gestured. “This way.”
Fiona glanced at her, eyes rounding again, as he turned to lead them down a short hallway, and Lorelei shrugged. Pompous butlers were a fact of life, especially in Mayfair. On the long journey down, she’d tried to explain some of the things that would be very different from life in Scotland, but describing wasn’t the same as experiencing. She wished her cousin Anne was in Town so she could help with situations that were bound to pop up, but Anne and her parents were on the Continent and had decided to spend time in Florence this spring. Perhaps Lady Louisa might help.
