Chapter Four

After Lord Lyle had taken his leave, Crystal made her way to the small dining room at the back of the three-bedroom apartment she occupied in the house. Although the building had once been the height of fashion, grand in its vicinity to the high street, the need for income had seen the family modify it into six separate apartments. The rents were sorely needed, with the falling price of black angus cattle and the halving of the revenue from their kelp farm.

Crystal had taken residence here three months ago, after her father’s death, needing to get away from the family lands in the far north. The earl had fallen in battle in Spain, a musket shot and a well-aimed kick to his head from his stallion causing his demise.

Her grief at her father’s loss disturbed her in its complexity. How often she had wished him gone due to his heavy drinking and dominating behavior—and now he was. When she was a girl, she’d ridden at his side in the hunt, and he’d taught her much, as if she’d been a son. How she’d loved him. When she was full-grown, their relationship had changed. The earl never had a happy word to say, but plenty about her place and her duty. Still, grief was grief.

Hilda placed milk and broth made from a hen in front of her. Kale and carrots bought fresh from the market had been added to the soup, and she ate it, delighted with the rich flavor. It was only after she’d finished her supper and Hilda came to collect her bowl that she realized her maid wore a disapproving look, black enough to scare demons back to hell.

“Delicious broth,” Crystal said lightly. “Thank you.”

“That man had the look of a fox after a rabbit,” Hilda said with a huff.

“I take it you dinnae like him?”

Although her maid was a servant, she was also a distant cousin and a clan member of Crystal’s late mother. Hilda had needed a job when she’d lost her husband. Crystal allowed her to have her say because the woman had been with her and her sisters since the cradle. When her mother had died five years ago of the wasting disease at the age of forty, Hilda became the one Crystal confided in. Hilda had told her that her mother started off a strong, vibrant woman when she’d wed Crystal’s father at eighteen, but after so many years of brutal domination, she had wilted like a flower deprived of sunshine and water until she had become a husk of herself.

Crystal still mourned her beautiful mother, and anger resided in her chest at her mother’s terrible treatment. She was lonely, too. She had no one except her two sisters and Hilda.

The maid crossed her meaty arms. “I promised your mother on her deathbed I’d take care of you, and mark my words, that lord wants something from you.”

“And he’s going to get it.”

Hilda made a spluttering sound. “What?”

Crystal pushed her plate away and stood, weary from the difficult evening. “Lord Lyle is the heir to a dukedom, and he’s invited me to spend the weekend with his family. He wants me to meet his father. Other members of the family will be there, too. I was going to ask you to accompany me, but since you’re so disapproving…”

“Aye, and which duchy would that be?” Hilda muttered. “I’ve heard your speech. The duchy of independence, more like. Though I’m sure gentlemen think you’re offering favors.”

“Really, Hilda, you are being far too coarse for my liking. I also talk about educating women and their rights. The duchy of Lomond is an old and respectable estate.”

Hilda gasped.

Crystal bit her lower lip, trying not to laugh. She left the dining room and headed to her bedroom down the hall, knowing Hilda would follow.

“But that’s one of the richest in the land and not that far from here!” Hilda declared. “My cousin works as a carpenter on the new house the duke is building. He tells me it’s verra beautiful.”

“So, now you approve?” Crystal sat in front of her dresser and started pulling pins from her hair.

“Not exactly. Lord Lyle has hardly given you notice, and that’s most ungentlemanly. Admittedly, though, I’m interested to see Lomond House. It’s right famous,” Hilda said. She picked up the hairbrush and started brushing Crystal’s hair. “I cannae understand. Why is he asking you to meet the duke? I’ve not heard that his grace concerns himself with the issue of women’s education. Certainly not with the French war at our doors.”

“Lord Lyle claims he wants my support because he doesn’t believe in forced marriage, but I confess, I’m not convinced that’s why he has developed a sudden interest in me. But his father is very important. He has a seat in the House of Lords and wields much influence. I’d do well to curry favor with those who have the power to create change.”

“Do you really think a grand aristocrat will support your radical views?”

“Tonight, many did not. But at other meetings, the men saw the sense of what I’ve been arguing. They also understood the injustice of our property laws. After all, men have mothers, sisters, and daughters. They may not talk about it publicly, but plenty have seen their womenfolk hurt by fortune seekers and scoundrels.”

“You’ve a good heart, my lady, but I’m not convinced Lord Lyle was thinking of social justice when he invited you to visit.” Hilda glanced at Crystal’s reflection in the mirror as she unbuttoned the back of her gown. “You’re a strip of a lassie with strong ideas. You’re not going to Lomond House without me as your chaperone, for that lord had ravishment in his eyes. You mark my words.”