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Authors: Julia London
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Lady Fiona, what’s he done to you to leave you with such an unflattering impression of his character?” Duncan demanded.
“He likened me to a woodchuck.”
Duncan stilled and glanced at her through the spokes.
She colored slightly and shrugged a little. “No’ that it matters to me, for it does no’ in the least.”
“A woodchuck ?” he echoed disbelievingly. Now he doubted her completely. He never would have said such a thing about a lady.
But Fiona nodded adamantly. “It was such a silly thing, really. It happened at my debut, at Gunston Hall. My friend was having a bit of sport with me, and she suggested to your high and mighty laird that perhaps I might make a good match for him, and he said, ‘ Fiona Haines ?’ ” She mimicked him, speaking in a low voice and looking comically studious as she rubbed her chin with her hand. ‘ ” Lambourne’s younger sister? Brown hair? About so tall? Slightly reminiscent of a woodchuck ?’ ”
Duncan blinked.
“Aha!” Fiona cried triumphantly. “You are no’ the least bit surprised, then! You know perfectly well that he’s wretched!”
Oh, but she was wrong. She was terribly wrong—he was surprised and appalled.
“His friends had quite a laugh at it, which undoubtedly encouraged him even further, for he turned to my friend Molly and said, ‘ Thank you, Miss Elgin, but I’d sooner marry a woodchuck .’ ” Fiona laughed, but it sounded forced.
“Perhaps Miss Elgin fabricated the conversation?” he suggested, hoping that was so.
“Why should she do that?”
Any number of reasons. Duncan remembered Molly Elgin—she’d been rather keen to be near him, by any means she could devise.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt that Molly Elgin was up to no good when she broached the subject with him,” Fiona said airily.“Yet I know he said it, for I heard him. I was standing not two feet away. I heard him quite plainly.” Her laugh again sounded stilted, and she abruptly stood and began pacing again. “I hardly cared, mind you. I’d set my sights on London.”
A direct contradiction to what she’d said this morning, he noted. He swallowed hard—he was never prepared to be reminded of the man he’d been. Vainglorious and, apparently, cruel. He hit the spoke with the flat of his palm; it popped into the notches on the wheel. He grabbed the spoke and pulled hard to assure himself it was locked into place. Satisfied that it was, he disengaged himself from the wheel and stood up. As he stuffed his hands into his gloves, he said, “Knowing the laird, I rather imagine you are right—he surely said what he did for the amusement of his friends. Yet I am certain he would be ashamed and regretful if he realized the distress his words had caused you.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I am certain of it.”
Fiona laughed. “Do you realize that is the most words you have spoken to me at one time? And all of them in defense of a profligate. Oh, aye,” she said, nodding vigorously, “he is a profligate of the worst kind. If ever there was a man who delighted in trampling the feelings of others, it is your laird, sir. I’ve heard more tales of him, but I will keep them to myself, then. Honestly, I would no’ have brought it up at all had you no’ asked. I’ve quite forgotten it! Really, I am surprised I’ve remembered as much of it as I have. Look here, it’s begun to snow again.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue, trying to catch a snowflake on the tip.
Something about that stirred Duncan deep inside.He did not want to be intrigued or otherwise aroused—it would only lead to frustration and pain, and he had a long way to go with this one yet. But he could not help but wonder where life might have taken him had he not been so dismissive of Fiona so long ago. If he’d met her, really met her. . . . Such were the regrets in his life—he would never know now. Bloody hell, he couldn’t even tell her who
“He likened me to a woodchuck.”
Duncan stilled and glanced at her through the spokes.
She colored slightly and shrugged a little. “No’ that it matters to me, for it does no’ in the least.”
“A woodchuck ?” he echoed disbelievingly. Now he doubted her completely. He never would have said such a thing about a lady.
But Fiona nodded adamantly. “It was such a silly thing, really. It happened at my debut, at Gunston Hall. My friend was having a bit of sport with me, and she suggested to your high and mighty laird that perhaps I might make a good match for him, and he said, ‘ Fiona Haines ?’ ” She mimicked him, speaking in a low voice and looking comically studious as she rubbed her chin with her hand. ‘ ” Lambourne’s younger sister? Brown hair? About so tall? Slightly reminiscent of a woodchuck ?’ ”
Duncan blinked.
“Aha!” Fiona cried triumphantly. “You are no’ the least bit surprised, then! You know perfectly well that he’s wretched!”
Oh, but she was wrong. She was terribly wrong—he was surprised and appalled.
“His friends had quite a laugh at it, which undoubtedly encouraged him even further, for he turned to my friend Molly and said, ‘ Thank you, Miss Elgin, but I’d sooner marry a woodchuck .’ ” Fiona laughed, but it sounded forced.
“Perhaps Miss Elgin fabricated the conversation?” he suggested, hoping that was so.
“Why should she do that?”
Any number of reasons. Duncan remembered Molly Elgin—she’d been rather keen to be near him, by any means she could devise.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt that Molly Elgin was up to no good when she broached the subject with him,” Fiona said airily.“Yet I know he said it, for I heard him. I was standing not two feet away. I heard him quite plainly.” Her laugh again sounded stilted, and she abruptly stood and began pacing again. “I hardly cared, mind you. I’d set my sights on London.”
A direct contradiction to what she’d said this morning, he noted. He swallowed hard—he was never prepared to be reminded of the man he’d been. Vainglorious and, apparently, cruel. He hit the spoke with the flat of his palm; it popped into the notches on the wheel. He grabbed the spoke and pulled hard to assure himself it was locked into place. Satisfied that it was, he disengaged himself from the wheel and stood up. As he stuffed his hands into his gloves, he said, “Knowing the laird, I rather imagine you are right—he surely said what he did for the amusement of his friends. Yet I am certain he would be ashamed and regretful if he realized the distress his words had caused you.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I am certain of it.”
Fiona laughed. “Do you realize that is the most words you have spoken to me at one time? And all of them in defense of a profligate. Oh, aye,” she said, nodding vigorously, “he is a profligate of the worst kind. If ever there was a man who delighted in trampling the feelings of others, it is your laird, sir. I’ve heard more tales of him, but I will keep them to myself, then. Honestly, I would no’ have brought it up at all had you no’ asked. I’ve quite forgotten it! Really, I am surprised I’ve remembered as much of it as I have. Look here, it’s begun to snow again.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue, trying to catch a snowflake on the tip.
Something about that stirred Duncan deep inside.He did not want to be intrigued or otherwise aroused—it would only lead to frustration and pain, and he had a long way to go with this one yet. But he could not help but wonder where life might have taken him had he not been so dismissive of Fiona so long ago. If he’d met her, really met her. . . . Such were the regrets in his life—he would never know now. Bloody hell, he couldn’t even tell her who
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