“Let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.”
MACBETH, MACBETH ACT I, SCENE III
“Och, what a night,” Coll said with a groan, turning over in the comfortable bed of the yellow room to see Temperance grinning at him from the pillow next to his. “What’s got ye so amused?”
“You barely got to threaten anyone yesterday,” she returned, leaning closer to touch her mouth to his. “And yet, here we are.”
“Aye, here we are. For now. If ye keep telling everyone about yer true identity, though, I may expire in the next day or two.”
“I didn’t tell everyone. I told your parents.”
“And my two brothers, my three sisters, and one near-brother. For the devil’s sake, lass, I’m glad ye trust me and mine, but ye ken I’d have married ye whether yer true name was Persephone Jones or Temperance Hartwood or Mary Dairy.”
She laughed. “Mary Dairy? Oh, I’m so glad you weren’t about when I was looking for a faux name.”
“I amnae. Ye wouldnae have been alone if I’d been there.”
Her expression sobering, she reached over to brush his dark hair back from his temple. “My life would have been so different,” she breathed. “But given what I’ve found now, I wouldn’t want to change anything.”
He understood that, even if he disliked the idea of not being there for eight years to keep her safe and to keep her from being alone. Imagining all of that, though, only made him frustrated and angry. She had the right of it; they were together now, and that was what mattered. “I’m glad for that, then.”
“Your sister wants to take me dress shopping today,” she went on, “to replace my wardrobe. I could go to the Saint Genesius for some of my costumes, but I’m not certain whether going about in Lady Macbeth’s robes would help your mother’s quest to stop all the gossip.”
Sitting up, he stretched. He’d known her for a week, and had been intimate with her for nearly that amount of time. In the past, he would never have thought himself as domesticated as to enjoy sharing a bed with the same woman every night and waking up beside her in the morning. There he was, though, looking forward to a long lifetime of it.
“Ye ken we’ve only jumped over one hurdle,” he said, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Ye still have someone after ye, and I’ll nae tolerate that.”
She shivered a little. “I didn’t think it possible to be so happy and so frightened all at the same time. How certain are you that my cousin is to blame?”
“I cannae be certain until I get a look at him and we exchange some words, but who else has a damned thing to gain by getting rid of ye? Unless it could possibly be Jenny or one of the others after yer parts—but ye’ll nae even tolerate me saying that.”
“No, I will not. I’ve known Jenny and most of the rest of them for years. If she’d wanted me gone, she would have killed me well before now. Rosalind’s a much more popular character than Lady Macbeth.” She sat up beside him. “Speaking of which, I still need to go to rehearsals.”
“Nae.”
“We open tomorrow. It’s not just about me. The other actors, the stagehands, Charlie—this is our livelihood.”
Swearing under his breath, he flung off the bedsheets and stood. “Then I’m going with ye. Seems I dunnae have to spend my time searching for a bride any longer.”
What he did have was a masked ball to attend that night. At least now that his family knew about Temperance’s identity, he could hopefully get Eloise or one of the other lasses to dance with Robert Hartwood and ask him a few pointed questions. He wanted to ask them himself, of course, and he wanted to beat the man senseless. Doing so without proof or an admission of guilt, though, wouldn’t go over well with the rest of the aristocracy.
That didn’t even matter all that much to him. What continued to trouble him was the thought that perhaps it wasn’t Temperance’s cousin. If he couldn’t find a potential killer, allowing her to go anywhere—much less onstage—made no damned sense, yet he wasn’t certain that even he, with his size and his muscles, would be able to stop her.
Something warm rubbed against his ankle. Bending down, he scratched Hades behind the ears. At least the cat was grateful to have his life saved. “Make certain ye close yer cat in here,” he said, reaching for his kilt and belting it around his hips. “Aden has a dog with five wee pups, and they’ve the run of the place.”
Once he’d pulled on his shirt, he walked back to the bed, put his hands around Temperance’s hips, and kissed her long and slow. “I’ll be down in the breakfast room in twenty minutes or so, if ye care to meet me there so I can tell ye good morning.”
“If you tell me good morning any more enthusiastically than you just did,” she said with a satisfied smile, “we’ll have to be naked again.”
“Dunnae tempt me. That’d be one way to keep ye indoors all day, except that I cannae be with ye and find a villain all at the same time.”
By the time he’d sorted who would watch over Temperance with him, who would check to see that Robert Hartwood remained on the guest list for Lady Fenster’s ball, and whether he could go to Canterbury for a special marriage license if he didn’t give the bride’s true name—and whether that was the least bit legal or not—most of the family, with the notable exception of Aden and Miranda, had crowded into the breakfast room alongside him.
“Do you need a gown for tonight?” Eloise asked Temperance over her cup of too-sweet tea. “You’re taller than I am, but I have several with generous hems we could let out.”
“Temperance isnae going,” Coll broke in. For God’s sake, the lass had been terrified by the idea of attending the party when he’d mentioned it to her, and so he’d promised her he would find another way. If the rest of them wanted to think he was being controlling, let them. “If Hartwood is the one after her, I’m nae giving him a chance at her.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Temperance said. “Someone else can ask questions, but I’m the one who knows him. Seeing me there might well surprise him into giving himself away.” She finished her own tea. “And then I can punch him.”
“Are ye certain?” Coll asked. “I thought ye didnae want to risk seeing yer parents there.”
He saw her shiver. He’d added two more Sassenachs to his list of people to punch back when she’d told him her story, but even more than her words, her reaction to speaking about them or even hearing they might be in the area truly told him all he needed to know about Lord and Lady Bayton.
Blowing out her breath, she shook her head. “I am willing to risk it. I want to know who’s trying to kill me, and I want it stopped.”
“Ye and me both, mo chridhe.”
A tight smile touched her face. “Will someone tell me what that means?”
“’My heart,’” his father said around a mouthful of hard-boiled egg. “I used to call the lads’ màthair that.”
“Och, I dunnae want to hear that.” Coll scowled. “What happened to ye being on yer deathbed, anyway, Da?”
“I had a miraculous recovery. Dunnae question my behavior when ye’ve been seen running about London in naught but a claymore.”
“I was after a snake. Nearly took off his ear too,” Coll retorted.
“Good.”
“Aye.”
They managed to get Eloise’s favorite dressmaker to the house by half nine, and Temperance had a midnight blue silk and lace gown that fit her like a glove and flowed like water by half ten. Niall volunteered to go speak to the pastor who’d married Aden and Miranda about certain legalities, while Francesca herself summoned her solicitor for a chat about special licenses and names.
Before that fellow arrived, Coll, Temperance, and three capable lads headed for the Saint Genesius and the last dress rehearsal for the Scottish play. Watching her transform into the cold, regal, and viciously ambitious Lady Macbeth continued to stun him, especially in the moments when they stopped and she laughed at something one of her fellow actors said, back to herself again.
“You’re marrying her, Persephone says,” Charlie Huddle said, coming to a stop beside where Coll sat on a crate of wooden swords.
“Aye.”
“She has a contract through next Season to perform at the Saint Genesius, and I—”
“That’s nae my affair,” Coll interrupted, “unless she doesnae want to be here.”
“She’ll be Lady Glendarril, though. Doesn’t that trouble you?”
“Nae in the least. Think of the publicity for the Saint Genesius, though.” Hiding his grin, Coll watched the theater manager absorb that bit of information.
“I … am. Now—oh, my. This could be—we could see our most profitable Season ever. I…” Huddle strode away, calling over his shoulder, “Excuse me, I need to do some figuring.”
People kept telling Coll he should be mortified at the idea of having a wife who acted onstage. If he cared what other people thought, it might have made a difference, but he hoped it wouldn’t have. Seeing how good she was at it and knowing how much she enjoyed it, he couldn’t imagine even trying to take it away from her. As he’d told his mother, the Season only lasted from mid-spring to late summer. He could spend that in London with her. The rest of the year could be for Scotland.
His father had refused to make that compromise for his mother, and Coll wasn’t about to repeat those mistakes. Aside from that, just the idea of seeing Temperance sad or lonely left him angry. If he could prevent that by coming down here among the dandies, he would damned well do so.
Ten minutes later, Temperance strolled up to him, not stopping until she’d slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, her soft mouth smiling against his. “I’m nae complaining, lass, but what did I do to deserve that?” he asked, putting his hands on her trim waist.
“You told Charlie that my staying or going wasn’t up to you,” she murmured.
“And what else would I say?”
“You? Nothing else. I have begun to wonder if you’re so accustomed to looking after the needs of other people that being selfish simply doesn’t occur to you.”
“I am being selfish,” he returned. “I like seeing ye happy.”
“And I like being happy,” she whispered back to him. “I’ve been content with my life until now, I think, but you … you make me truly happy.”
“M’laird,” Gavin called down from his perch in the rigging, “ye said ye wanted to be back to Oswell House by six o’clock. It’s nearly that now.”
“I shouldnae have given him a pocket watch,” Coll muttered, reluctantly releasing Temperance. “Are ye finished here? There willnae be food tonight at the ball, Eloise says, so I plan on having a large dinner.”
“Yes, we’re finished. Ready as we can be for tomorrow.”
She didn’t say anything else, but he heard the nerves in her voice. It wasn’t only about playing a complicated lass in front of hundreds of people—or more, once the news got around that Persephone Jones was to wed Lord Glendarril. “If I have to personally separate every man in the audience from his pistol before they set foot inside the Saint Genesius, I will do it,” he stated. “Ask me if I’m jesting.”
“I know you’re not. It’s all been fairly subtle so far. A pistol is much more direct. I’m still worried about sandbags and falling forests.”
“I helped make Birnham Wood. It willnae fall on ye.”
He followed as she went into her dressing room to change out of her rich, dark robes and into the more proper green muslin walking dress Miranda had lent her. She also donned her wig of ivory blonde hair after she pinned her own up.
“What do you think? Passable? Most of the rest of my wigs were at my house, I’m afraid.”
“Aye. More than passable. Ye take my breath away.”
Halfway out the door, she stopped, pushing him back inside and shutting them in. “You do realize that once whoever this is hears that we’re to be married, they may get more desperate. Once I’m wed and my parents can’t threaten me with anything, I will have no reason not to go to them and announce my return. No reason other than my general dislike and disgust, that is.”
“It’s crossed my mind, aye.” Of course she’d thought of that; she had a mind like quicksilver. “And whatever Robert thinks, ye go to them if ye want to, and ye stay away if ye prefer. As far as London and the rest are concerned, I’m marrying Persephone Jones. Ye dunnae need to tell anyone otherwise on my account.”
“You are a very nice man, Lord Glendarril,” she whispered, wiping at her eyes.
“Dunnae be telling anyone else that. I’ve a reputation, ye ken.”
They arrived back at Oswell House in the family’s coach, a quartet of outriders accompanying them. The house was packed with armed footmen and a handful of Lord Aldriss’s fighters, too, who’d begun to arrive a day behind the earl. The more weapons between Temperance and the outside, the better Coll liked it—especially since he’d potentially brought the fight to Oswell House and his own family.
After dinner, he retreated to his bedchamber to find the gray coat, blue trousers, and yellow waistcoat Oscar, the valet he shared with his brothers, had laid out for him together with his white shirt. It looked far too civilized and yellow seemed a color for dandies, but he had more important worries than fabric.
He’d had Eloise choose a mask for him; he supposed Amy and Miranda had selected those Niall and Aden would be wearing. While Oscar slipped in and attempted to tie his cravat into something that didn’t look like a horse had stepped on it, Coll pulled the mask out of the silk bag Eloise had left for him.
“Hmm. A lion,” he said aloud, not surprised. He liked the bronze color of it; it went well with the gray and yellow. That thought, though, made him frown; he was marrying soon, for Christ’s sake, not becoming a lass. And he damned well had not become civilized.
Carrying the mask with him, he walked down the long hallway to where Temperance was staying, next door to Eloise’s bedchamber, and knocked on her door.
“Who is it, please?” Flora’s voice called.
“Me,” he answered. “Coll.”
“Coll who?”
“MacTaggert, ye witch. Laird Glendarril, if that was yer next question.”
Flora opened the door. “There haven’t been witches in my family for at least one generation,” she quipped, and moved aside.
Temperance stood in front of the closed window, her back to him. Slowly, she turned around, her midnight blue skirts swirling about her ankles like azure shadows. A blue-and-pearl peacock mask covered her eyes and nose, the fan of feathers arcing across her forehead into the air. With her bright blue eyes glinting and her now red-colored hair twined through with blue and black ribbons, the effect was … magical.
“God’s blood, lass,” he murmured.
“He likes it,” Flora interpreted, clapping.
Coll crossed the room to Temperance. “If I liked it any more,” he breathed, “we’d nae be leaving this room.”
“I was about to say the same thing about you.” Lowering her gaze, she took him in from head to toe and back again. “Is that a lion?”
“Aye.” He put it on, immediately disliking the closed-in feeling. At least it left his mouth free so he could pull in some air.
“That…” She trailed off. “It suits you,” she finally said, and went up on her toes, leaning her hands on his shoulders, to kiss him.
“Ye’re going to have to kiss me enough to distract me from wearing a prison on my skull,” he said, kissing her back, careful not to disturb her hair or her peacock mask.
“I think I could manage that, if you’ll kiss me enough to distract me from remembering that I will be facing my cousin tonight.”
“Ye have a deal, lass.” He leaned closer, brushing her ear with his mouth. “Does Flora know about ye, or are ye still Persie to her?”
“I told her and Gregory a few minutes ago.” She grimaced. “I should have told them ages ago, but I didn’t want to risk anyone calling me by the wrong name. That is bound to happen here, so I wanted them to hear the truth from me.”
“I understand, Persie,” Flora said from her station by the door. “Or my lady, I should be saying now, for heaven’s sake.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Persie is fine. It’s a perfectly acceptable shortening of Temperance, anyway.”
“It is, isn’t it?” The maid smiled. “I always said you had elegance up to the rooftops. Now I know why.”
Removing his mask again, Coll offered Temperance his free hand. “We should head downstairs. Ye’ll be in the coach with my màthair, Da, and Eloise. I’ll be right beside ye on Nuckelavee. The second coach will have Aden, Niall, and their lasses.”
A few short weeks ago, the MacTaggerts in London had numbered five, and that was including Francesca and Eloise, who both went by Oswell-MacTaggert. Now they were eight, with Temperance for a near-ninth and Matthew Harris ready to make it ten, even if he didn’t bear the name. He would still be family, and that made him a part of the MacTaggert clan.
A good portion of them were downstairs in the foyer already, and damn it all, every one of the MacTaggert men was wearing or carrying a lion mask. They were all different, but unmistakable nonetheless. “I think the lasses may be having a bit of fun with us,” he commented, lifting his mask in his free hand.
Aden chuckled. “I’d rather be part of a pride of lions than a gaggle of geese or someaught.”
The ladies all wore different bird masks, with Temperance as a peacock, Eloise as a swan, Miranda an owl, and Amy a falcon, while Francesca wore a white and ivory gown topped with a feather-and-jewel-encrusted dove mask. They’d all coordinated, obviously, and had included Temperance without hesitation. For that, he would bow to their collective sense of humor and wear a damned lion head over his own.
Outside, he handed off his mask to Niall and swung up on Nuckelavee. Three other outriders joined him; it may have looked ostentatious to the rest of the world, but it wasn’t only Temperance he needed to protect now. She’d been taken in by his family, and that put them all in a degree of danger.
Lady Fenster’s grand house stood only five minutes from Oswell House, but that was enough time for him to run his mind through everything that could possibly go wrong tonight. It wouldn’t have been proper to drag Robert Hartwood into a corner by his ear and demand some answers, but he preferred that to making Temperance confront someone she’d spent nearly eight years avoiding.
The crowd of vehicles clogging the entire street did little to make him wish to be reasonable again. He gave the black over to Gavin and opened the coach door himself. “I dunnae like this,” he said, handing out his mother and then Temperance. “Too many people behind too many masks. We’ll manage this another way.”
She shook her head at him. “I’ve managed to screw my courage to the sticking place, Coll. If I turn around now, I don’t know that I could do this again.”
“Ye wouldnae—”
“A word, Coll,” his father broke in, putting a hand on Coll’s shoulder.
“Dunnae fret,” Aden said smoothly, stepping in to offer his free arm to Temperance. “We willnae go in without ye.”
Frowning, Coll followed the earl a few steps away from the others. “What is it?”
“I’d like to think I’ve learned a few things, even if it’s taken me far too long,” Lord Aldriss said. “And even though it may be too late for me, it’s nae too late for ye. Ye’ve chosen a strong woman. A strong woman willnae do as ye say, and she’ll nae watch her tongue when she disagrees with ye. My advice is to nae expect her to. She told ye she’s ready for tonight. Trust her to be.”
Coll cocked his head. “What happened to weak-willed, weeping women and hothouse flowers? That’s all ye said we’d find here in London.”
“I’m a prideful man, lad, as ye know. I didnae want to lose ye, and I didnae want yer mother to be the one to make that happen.” The earl slipped on his lion mask, this one onyx with yellow. “And yet here we all are, together.”
Aye, they were all there together, and they made a bloody formidable group. Lions, indeed—and a lovely flock of birds no other men had been able to catch. Coll rolled his shoulders. He wouldn’t be the only one watching over Temperance tonight; if he did move against Robert Hartwood, he wouldn’t be doing it alone. The MacTaggerts stood together. Always.
Temperance watched father and son. Coll was taller and had broader shoulders, but any of the MacTaggerts could likely put even Gentleman Jackson on his arse. Whatever it was they’d discussed, the smile on Coll’s face as he walked up to her warmed her all the way to her bones.
This mountain of a man, whom others underestimated because, for some reason, they thought muscles didn’t equate with mental acuity, wanted her. This Highland god with his chiseled good looks and his warm laugh and his very capable hands and mouth, who’d been ordered to find a bride and had searched throughout London for weeks for one, had chosen her—even though she hadn’t even been on the registry.
“Are ye ready?” he asked, accepting his mask from Niall and slipping it over his dark, unruly hair.
“‘Once more unto the breach’,” she quoted, as Shakespeare’s warriors always made her feel braver.
“I told ye I was Henry the Fifth,” he said.
“I never doubted it.” Putting her hand around his hard forearm, she resisted the urge to lean into him for strength. At this moment, people knew he was her protector, with all the sexual intimacy that went with the term. Some might guess that Persephone Jones had dared enter an aristocratic ballroom uninvited, which would be scandalous, but no one knew yet that they were to be married. That scandal would lift the roof off the house.
At the entrance to the ballroom, Lady Aldriss handed the butler the family’s invitation. A moment later, they were announced as “Lord and Lady Aldriss, Lord Glendarril, and family,” and Persephone stepped inside the room without being pointed at or having anyone turn their backs on her. It was still early, though.
Gold, yellow, and white ribbons hung from the ceiling, reflecting the chandelier light in a thousand different directions. The effect was striking and lovely and exotic all at the same time. Up on the overlooking balcony, a small orchestra played, while directly below them two tables stood laden with punch bowls and sweet treats.
A hundred or more people had already crowded into the house, and while she’d initially been pleased to be able to wear a mask, she quickly saw the disadvantage in everyone else being disguised. If Coll was correct, the person who’d either burned her house down or hired someone else to do it was here, and whoever had cut the rope holding the sandbags or swung the bucket or driven the wagon could well be gazing at her right now. All she would see would be a bear or tiger or parrot.
“Care to take a stroll with me?” Coll suggested.
She nodded, trying to keep her mouth in an amused half smile. The killer might know she was staying with the MacTaggerts, but no one had any reason to believe she would dare make an appearance here—either as Persephone or as herself. She had the advantage, at least for the moment. And she had Coll.
“If ye see anyone ye reckon could be Robert, ye squeeze my arm,” he said. “Francesca’s making a few discreet inquiries to see if we can discover which mask he’s wearing.”
“Is it odd that I’m looking forward to frightening the devil out of all these people tomorrow as Lady Macbeth?” she asked, her gaze flitting from one mask to the next.
“Nae. I’m looking forward to that myself. Ye scared me, and that was just a rehearsal.”
“I doubt anything scares you,” she retorted.
“The idea of ye being hurt scares me,” he returned softly. “The idea of someaught that I cannae fight coming between us scares me.”
“The last two days have gone from being a nightmare to a happy dream,” she said. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up and find none of it to be true.” Shakespeare would have adored it—the woman who’d given up on the idea of love and marriage while playing romantic heroines, and the man who’d seen through all the characters to her heart and awakened her again.
“I have upended things for ye, I ken.”
“And I love you for that, you know.”
The smile beneath his fierce mask made her grin in return. “Aye. And I love ye. Ye upended a few things for me, as well. And I’d nae change any of ’em for gold.”
Neither would she. Before she could say that aloud, though, a thin man in a fox mask passed her, and a shiver went down her spine. She tightened her fingers around Coll’s arm without even realizing it.
“Is that him?” Coll asked immediately, stopping and turning around. “Yer cousin?”
“No,” she whispered, beginning to shake. “That was my father.”
“Damn.” They reversed course yet again, and he strode in the opposite direction, practically lifting her off her feet as she tried to keep up. “Let’s get ye back to Oswell House. Now.”
Swallowing, she pulled on his arm. She might as well have been poking at a thundercloud, but he slowed, looking down at her. “This is still our best chance to find Robert,” she breathed. “The play opens tomorrow, and I can’t—”
“It’s too risky, Temperance.”
“It is what it is. I’m here. He walked right by me without batting an eye. We have to stay.”
From his clenched jaw and aggressive stance, he wasn’t at all pleased with her conclusion. Even so, after a moment he nodded. “Dunnae move a step away from me. If it comes down to it, Nuckelavee is outside. I will toss ye over the saddle and make off with ye to the Highlands. All I need is a wee excuse.”
That was far more tempting than it should have been. “My parents are far more averse to scandal than yours are,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice steady and not sound like a scared mouse. “I doubt they’d care to make a scene even if they did recognize me.” That made sense, at least, and she clung to the thought. If they recognized her, they might try to approach her in private, but never in public. And tonight, she didn’t mean to be caught in private with anyone.
“Aye,” he grunted. “Let’s tell the others, though. We dunnae need Aden or Niall tackling yer da.”
As they found Aden and Miranda and let them know that at least Lord Bayton was in attendance, Lady Aldriss joined them. “Your cousin is here, my dear,” she said, “wearing a rooster mask. And don’t be alarmed, but your parents are here, as well.”
“She saw her da a minute ago and nearly went out the window,” Coll provided.
“I did not. He startled me, is all. I’m finished running.”
It all sounded very brave, but it felt terrifying. At the same time, she meant it. She’d run eight years ago and had been in hiding ever since, even if her best disguise happened to be hiding in plain sight. Now she had a reason to stay and fight for what she’d found. The only problem was that a fight might actually be involved.
“Then you know your father is a fox. Your mother is a swan, like Eloise.”
“She should’ve been a hen to go with his fox,” Aden suggested with a brief grin.
“That’s far too whimsical for my parents. Come, Coll, I want to find that rooster and get this over with.”
“And I’d like to wring his neck,” Coll put in.
Now that they knew which animal to look for, it didn’t take long to spy cousin Robert. He stood by the refreshment table, sampling each one of the treats methodically, one after the other. He looked so … familiar, as if it had only been a week since she’d last seen him, and not eight years. He had put on a bit of weight around his middle and his chin had doubled, but even with the mask on, it could be no one else.
Beside him stood a blonde duck, and every so often he would hand a treat to her and she would pop it into her mouth. His betrothed, Caroline Rilence. Temperance hadn’t been particularly close with her at school, and she doubted she would have recognized Caroline on the street, but she couldn’t think of anyone else to whom Robert would be giving sweets.
“That’s him?” Coll murmured from close beside her.
“Yes. I’m certain of it.”
In response, she felt his muscles tense, a crackle in the air as the tension rose around him. Turning her back on her cousin, she put a hand against Coll’s chest. “No hitting. We need to speak with him first.”
He took a hard breath, her hand moving as his lungs filled and emptied. “I’ll signal Eloise, then.” Pulling a button from his pocket, he turned, looked, and flipped it through the air. As she watched, it flew halfway across the room to strike young Matthew Harris on the back of the head. He turned, startled.
“Over here,” Coll mouthed.
With a grimace, Matthew took Eloise’s arm and led her over, still rubbing the back of his skull.
“You didn’t need to hit me,” he complained.
“It was a wee button, and ye were supposed to be paying attention. We found him. Eloise, can ye get him to give ye a waltz?”
“Of course I can,” she answered, with all the confidence of an eighteen-year-old who’d been the belle of the Season from the moment she came out. “Point him out to me.”
Once they’d done so, she fluffed the swan feathers on her mask, sent Matthew a quick, excited grin, and glided away. Temperance had the distinct feeling that Coll would have preferred to be much closer by in case of trouble, but with his height, he could at least see his sister speaking with Robert.
A moment later, Eloise returned, one hand to her chest. “My goodness, that was exhilarating.”
“Did it work?” Coll demanded.
“Yes. The first waltz of the evening. Luckily, he didn’t know that Matthew has already claimed it from me, but since I won’t actually be dancing with him anyway, I suppose it doesn’t signify.” She patted Matthew’s arm, as if comforting him. “The woman with him didn’t look very happy, though.”
“That’s his fiancée,” Temperance informed them. “You must have surprised him; Robert was never much of a dancer.”
As she spoke, it dawned on her all over again that she would be dancing face-to-face with her cousin in a very few minutes, and she stifled another bout of shivers. Surprising him might well be their most effective weapon, and she was certainly the best choice to do it.
“Ye still dunnae have to do this.” Coll moved in front of her, blocking her view of Robert. “We can find another way.”
“I can’t say I’m looking forward to it,” she conceded, meeting his glittering green gaze through the fierce and fitting lion mask, “but I am looking forward to being finished with having to be afraid.”
Music for a quadrille, the first dance of the evening, began, and Coll held out one hand. “Do ye have a place on yer dance card for me, then?”
“Always.” Taking his fingers, she let him lead the way to one side of the ballroom, as far as they could manage from her own family. He danced well, graceful and athletic and very conscious of the people around him, who no doubt feared being trampled.
It had been ages since she’d danced more than a theatrical reel or two, and she was grinning and breathless by the end of the quadrille. Aden claimed her for the country dance, and Niall for the quadrille after that. If nothing else, those three dances were a forceful reminder that her life had changed. She didn’t have to stand alone any longer. If she fell, someone would be right there to catch her before she hit the ground—both literally and figuratively. It felt … empowering to have these men, this family, at her back. Even as a young girl, she’d rarely dared to stray from the path set out for her, because once a five-year-old heard that if she didn’t do as she was told she would be left outside for the gypsies, she tended to believe it.
After a brief respite for the orchestra, Lady Fenster announced the waltz. Temperance’s heart jumped, and she grabbed Coll’s hand and squeezed it hard. Then, without a backward look, she strolled forward and intercepted the rooster on his way to meet Eloise’s swan.
He took a half step backward as she blocked his path. “Excuse me. I have a partner for this dance.”
“Yes, the swan. I’ve traded with her.”
“That is not how—”
“Dance with me, cousin Robert,” she said deliberately.
Brown eyes widened behind the rooster’s beak. “Good … good Lord! Temperance?”