Intrigue and Infatuation

Chapter 3

It had been two years since Lachlan set foot in the assembly rooms for a ball. He found himself much changed with the exception of his willingness.
He could not say if the styles in fashion had changed, but to his eye, it seemed that all of London had stayed the same. The same faces. The same dances. The same banal exchanges. The same tang of sweat and candelsmoke hung in the air, punctuated only by the smell of the overly-perfumed in attendance. The only marked difference was the wide berth and the looks of disdain that everyone gave him.
When Lord Fraser finally arrived, even more heads turned his way. "Captain Shawe!" His voice, louder than was necessary, carried over the din of the crowd and instantly the candlelit faces around them shifted from contempt to curiosity.
"Lord Fraser," he replied warily and at an appropriate volume.
Suddenly the crowds that had been intent on keeping him at arms length pressed in close. Mothers vied for Lord Fraser's attention in the hopes that he would introduce his wealthy and venerated friend to their daughters.
Lord Fraser thankfully ignored them. "Today's endeavor was a failed one. Our assassin remains illusive," he whispered.
"So they didn't come for the message?" Lachlan asked hopefully.
Keir grimaced. "No. He picked up the note, but he eluded our capture."
"Ach." Lachlan ran a hand over his beard. "And what you're not saying is that I'm now this assassin's only target."
Keir slapped a hand to Lachlan's left shoulder. "Don't you worry. This coward wouldn't stand a chance against The Viking."
Lachlan shrugged off Keir's hand with a growl.
"This should cheer you up; I intend to stay with you until this assassin makes a move."
"That's supposed to cheer me up?"
"Of course. You said you wanted to be introduced to all the most eligible young ladies in London."
"No. What I said was that I want to find a sensible wife to manage Dunloch while I'm away. I don't expect a silly debutante would have the fortitude for such a task."
"You underestimate the fortitude of debutantes, Captain." Keir grinned mischievously. He appraised Lachlan with a quick survey of his appearance. "Why haven't you shaved? I told you to shave."
Lachlan replied with a low growl.
Keir held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. Not much can be done now. Come. I have many introductions to make."
To Lachlan's dismay, he soon found out Keir was not exaggerating when he said he was going to introduce him to every eligible debutante. The stream of introductions and dances seemed endless. Lachlan found little to be impressed by in the women Keir selected for him to meet. In fact, as the night continued on, it increased in its tedium and the quality of his companions decreased. Keir had indeed saved the best for first.
Lachlan wished he was still a fixture against one of the walls to be ignored by London society. Like the last ball he attended, he spied Andrew Rowley lurking in the crowd. After Rowley seemed to have spotted him, Rowley disappeared, less than eager to repeat the unpleasant events of their last meeting.
The rest of the night, Lachlan caught himself searching fora glimpse of flaming red hair. He tried to recall the finer details of the face of Rowley's cousin: the young woman who had promised to pray for him. But memories from beyond his time at sea were hazy as if they belonged in a dream. Another life.
Had she prayed for him? he wondered during a spirited reel with a particularly quiet partner. There were several moments in battle where a peace with no explanation had seized him. And there were times, when plagued with difficult decisions, where a confidence that seeped deep into his bones came as if the Lord were whispering his next move in his ear. Were those moments where the Lord had prompted this woman to faithfully pray for him?
A cynical streak in Lachlan told him this woman had kissed him and promptly forgot him at the sight of another gentleman in uniform. Undoubtedly, she was already married. So why am I still looking for her then?
When the set ended, Lachlan returned his partner to her chaperone and while he half-heartedly searched for Keir, he stumbled into an unaware debutante. "My apologies," he grumbled bitterly as the jostling and the prolonged dancing had awoken the wound above his right shoulder blade. Upon second glance, he realized this wasn't a stranger. No, this woman would've been familiar to him anywhere. "Maria!"
Maria Mowbray's eyes widened with surprise. "Lach!"
Whether she had intentionally placed herself in his path or not, Lachlan couldn't be sure.
"I almost didn't recognize you," she said. "You look... different." All traces of her Scottish accent had disappeared.
Lachlan's stomach jumped as she appraised him. Did she still find him as handsome as she once had? "You look... the same." He might have said beautiful at another point in time for her dark eyes, dark hair, and pale complexion were still as striking as he remembered. "How have you been?" What he didn't ask was, are you still engaged?
Maria turned her gaze to the floor before she looked up at him through lowered lashes. "I am well. And you?"
The answer was more complicated than Lachlan cared to share in a ballroom. "I am well," he answered. A half truth.
She looked up at him expectantly as he fumbled for what else to say. "Is your fiancé in attendance tonight? I should like to meet the man."
Maria's lips pulled into a smile and her cheeks colored. She ducked her head briefly and when she returned her eyes to Lachlan's they sparkled in the candle light. "I'm no longer engaged to him."
"Oh. My apologies."
Maria waved a flippant hand through the air. "I had my reservations from the start, but my parents were eager to see that I accepted a proposal at the end of my debut season. He is a man of fashion who was always more concerned the tie of his cravat than my welfare."
"Silly fops," Lachlan muttered.
Maria hid a musical laugh behind her hand. "Indeed. I knew it would upset my parents, but I had to detach myself from him in order to pursue suitors of a more sensible nature."
"And you should never be begrudged for your sensibility."
Maria lowered her head to look up at him bashfully. "So you don't begrudge me for my decision to end our understanding in the hope of making a suitable match?"
Lachlan expected his pulse to rise, anger and hurt to surge through his blood, but he felt...nothing. "No. We were not formally engaged. I have forgiven you for whatever pain I might have felt, but your letter was clear and your sensibility evident. I never should have asked you to wait for me. To ask you to wait on the hope of a fortune that may never have come was asking too much of a promising young woman such as yourself. Will you forgive me?"
Maria touched a gloved hand to her chest. "Of course. But there is nothing to forgive. I am just relieved. Immensely relieved. I would be dismayed to discover there was any enmity between us after all this time."
"I as well."
"Will you be in London for the duration of The Season?" she asked hopefully.
"No. I must return to Scotland to check on the repairs to Dunloch Castle. My architect assures me that everything is proceeding faster than expected, but I'm eager to see for myself."
Maria's countenance turned wistful. "It's been such a while since I've been to Dunborough, but the last time I was there the whole village was atwitter with the hiring of so many tradespeople. Your commissioned repairs were a boon to whole town."
Lachlan smiled to himself as pride filled his chest. To be able to restore his family home and to help put food on the tables of his neighbors made some of what he'd seen and done in the past two years worth it.
"I find myself jealous that you shall get to see it before me," Maria said.
"You wish to see it? Truly?"
"Of course!"
"Would you like to visit at Yulemas? I'm planning to host a ball for all my friends and family to celebrate the finishing of the ballroom. Of course there's still a lot of work to be done and I am poorly suited to the task of picking the decor—"
"Of course I'll come! And... if you need someone to suggest some design schemes for your ballroom I'm well suited to the task, having danced in the best of them."
"You would really do that?" The wheels in Lachlan's head began to turn.
"I wouldn't hesitant to come to the aid of an old friend. I hope I'm not too impertinent in offering."
"No," Lachlan replied emphatically. He was looking for a wife, capable of managing Dunloch, and Maria seemed to be the perfect candidate. He had thought the very same thing prior to his commission. Had the Lord brought her back into his life for that very purpose?
A firm hand on his left elbow interrupted his thoughts. "Miss Mowbray," Keir said icily.
"Lord Fraser," she replied with a curtsy, but her countenance turned stony.
"I need to speak with, Captain Shawe. Promptly." He steered Lachlan away before Maria could bid them good day with a strength that was belied by the man's gentlemanly nature.
He shoved Lachlan through the door to a billiards room. "What do you think you're doing?"
At the sight of conflict, the other gentleman occupying the room made a hasty exit.
"What do you mean?"
"You were supposed to come find me after you returned your partner to her chaperone and instead I find you talking with Maria Mowbray." He practically spat out her name.
"Dinna say her name like that. We were just conversing."
"Lach." Kier ran a hand over his face. "I will say the name of the woman who broke my friend's heart how I chose to say her name."
"She didn't break my heart — I see now the sensibility of her decision."
"No. No. No. You can't rewrite a history that we both lived. I was there when you received her letter. What I don't understand is why you haven't given her the cut and are instead chatting like old friends."
Lachlan paced to the other side of the room, putting the billiards table between them. "Because we are. We have put the past behind us and I wish you would too. I've never known you to be so unforgiving."
"I forgive her and wish her well, but I don't trust her with your heart and I'm not sure I trust you not to fall for her again."
"No. I shall not give her my heart. But you will give her the courtesy of civility if you intend to stay by my side. I have invited her to visit Dunloch for the finishing of the ballroom."
Keir fisted hands in his hair. "No... Lach. You're supposed to be finding a wife and you've already given yourself such a short amount of time. I don't think women will take well to your childhood sweetheart hanging around you."
"If they can't handle that then I doubt they are made of the sterner stuff I'm looking for in a wife. In fact, I don't think any of the women you introduced me to tonight seemed capable of scaring the Kerr goons off the property."
"You met them in a ballroom! In a different context any of these women could surprise you."
"Well, I know Maria could," Lachlan muttered.
Keir braced his hands on the table and leaned across. "What?"
"Nothing."
"No, I heard you perfectly well. I am simply incredulous because it sounds like you are actually considering Maria as a wife."
Lachlan cast his eyes askance, unable to look his friend in the face but unwilling to lie.
"Unbelievable!" Keir threw his hands in the air. What are you thinking? So you've just resigned yourself to a loveless marriage?"
The thought of falling in love made Lachlan's lungs constrict with panic but he pushed the feeling aside. "Not everyone is allowed the luxury of a love match."
"Fine. But you would marry a woman you wouldn't trust with your heart? 'Till death' is a long time for a woman who couldn't wait more than two months for you. Two!" Keir held up two fingers for emphasis.
"Which I never should have asked of her. She had to be sensible—"
"She isn't sensible. She is ambitious, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but Maria Mowbray is ambitious at the expense of others. From the moment she set foot in London, she was taken with the glamour of society's upper echelons. She charmed many influential people her first season, but when her fortune hunting became apparent, she fell quickly out of favor. She is only in search of wealth and status and her endeavors to find a husband with both have only been modestly successful." Keir rounded the table so there was nothing between.
"I cannot fault her for trying to move up in the world—"
"Nor I, but Maria will not be content to spend long northern winters tending to the needs of Dunloch while the Ton moves on without her."
"And you know Maria well enough to declare her character so deficient?" Lachlan turned his back to Keir.
"I've seen enough in the past two years, Lach. Please. You must listen to reason. I won't see my dearest friend unequally yolked!" Keir closed the distance between them and grasped Lachlan's right arm to turn him around.
Pain seared in Lachlan's shoulder and a breath hissed through his teeth. He pulled his arm free. "I am perfectly capable of discerning whether or not Maria has any interest in being mistress of Dunloch."
"And I can't help but wonder if your past history is clouding your judgment —"
Lachlan massaged his shoulder and let out a growl at the pain. "I think I've heard enough for tonight. I do not need your assistance, nor did I ask for it."
Lord Fraser ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry about your shoulder — I forgot, but please don't leave up in a huff."
"I'm not leaving in a huff. I'm tired. I'm sore from all this dancing. Good night." Before Keir could stop him, Lachlan exited the room and made a hasty retreat to his carriage.