She was more than a little apprehensive about being introduced, although she wasn’t about to admit that. To anyone. She’d never met Lady Louisa, the daughter of their hostess the Countess of Bute, and the second youngest of the earl’s eleven children. There was a good chance she was thoroughly spoiled from doting elder siblings. Both Emily and Juliana were always trying to protect her and, as she’d noticed with Fiona, it was worse with brothers.
And…Lady Louisa was the daughter of the former prime minister, which was something no other debutante could claim. She might well give herself airs. Lorelei squared her shoulders and took a deep breath as the butler stopped at the open door to the parlor.
“Do come in. We were hoping you would arrive soon.” The Countess of Bute rose from a delicate-looking ivory-brocade chair. “Was your journey pleasant?”
Lorelei dipped a curtsy. “It went quite well, thank you.” She hoped Fiona wouldn’t mention that the carriage had almost overturned when a reckless driver in a cabriolet had sideswiped them coming into London or that they’d barely avoided a brawl that had broken out when they’d stopped for lunch earlier. Both incidents had caused Fiona to curse loudly in Gaelic.
A younger woman seated in a much more comfortable-looking armchair by the hearth closed the book she’d been reading and set it aside—somewhat reluctantly it seemed—and rose as well.
“I am Louisa. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for having us.” She wasn’t what Lorelei had expected. Although she resembled the countess somewhat, she was more plain than pretty. Her brown hair was pulled back in a simple chignon and she made no effort to remove her spectacles. Her gown, although silk, was simply cut in a nondescript shade of beige. No panniers stuck out to the sides, and she wasn’t wearing hoops, either. Instead, the material draped in pleats from the cinched waist. Comfortable, not fashionable.
She peered over the tops of the spectacles at Fiona. “And you must be Miss MacGregor?”
“Aye. ’Tis my pleasure to meet ye.”
Louisa gave her a genuine smile. “I have always loved Scotland, so I would like to have you tell me about where you live.”
Fiona smiled back. “I would be happy to.”
“Will you join me on the settee then?”
“Aye.”
Lorelei blinked as the two of them moved to the sofa below a side window. Either Lady Louisa was trained extremely well to make strangers comfortable or she was actually interested in Scottish life. From the questions she was rattling off, it sounded like the latter.
Another footman appeared, wheeling a cart with a full tea service although Lorelei didn’t recall Lady Bute having given instructions. It seemed the household was very efficiently run.
She looked around as the countess poured tea. In the nearly ten months she’d been in Scotland, she’d almost forgotten the fancy elegance of a Mayfair town house. By contrast, the original part of Strae Castle was medieval, complete with a great hall, stone walls, and narrow-slit windows that were meant more for defense than for light. This parlor had a large window that looked out into a small garden, and its walls were covered in ivory damask with a scrolled pattern of vines and leaves rather than tapestries. Dark blue velvet draperies complemented the pale blue brocaded upholstery and reflected the various threads in the Aubusson carpet laid over polished oak floors. Unlike the hearths at Strae Castle that were nearly large enough to stand up in, with permanently sooty walls from years of peat smoke, the one in this room was barely waist high, the brass screen in front of it polished to a sheen. The white marble mantel above showed not a speck of dust, let alone soot. Lorelei wondered what Fiona would make of it.
“Do come over and drink your tea before it cools,” Lady Bute said to her daughter. “You have months to learn about Scotland.”
Louisa turned to Fiona as they moved over to the larger sofa. “I do apologize. I should not have kept you talking.”
Fiona gave her a quizzical look. “Why nae? Ye were curious and I doona mind answering your questions.”
“I should have properly allowed you tea and biscuits first.”
Fiona tilted her head to one side. “Does everything have to be done proper all the time?”
“I am afraid so,” the countess answered for Louisa. “It is very important that young ladies observe all of Society’s rituals, if they want to gain proposals from respectable gentlemen.”
Louisa wrinkled her nose. “She meanstitledgentlemen.”
Fiona widened her eyes. “I doona expect that.”
“Really?” Louisa studied her. “You did not come down here expecting to make a match that would help the MacGregors secure their status?”
“Really, Louisa.” Lady Bute frowned. “That is certainly not a proper question.”
Her daughter frowned, too. “But it is the truth, Mother. Why else would our fathers spend thousands of pounds on our fancy gowns and slippers so we can outshine one another at endless engagements in hopes of catching the biggest prize—”
The countess set her teacup down. “I am sure Lorelei and Fiona are looking forward to some of those engagements.”
“I am,” Fiona said. “Several of my brothers have been to London and I have always wanted to see it.”
“And I am looking forward to the social Season as well.” Lorelei didn’t say that, even though she’d always envisioned a huge wedding—maybe at St. Paul’s Cathedral— she was not considering marriage yet.ThisSeason was for adventure. Instead, she smiled. “Although I do not know how much attention we will actually get.”
