The Highlander And The Governess

Chapter Two

Lachlan wasn’t at all certain he wanted any kind of lesson. He decided that if Miss Goodson grew too overbearing, he would return to the house. After all, she was departing in the morning. But as they walked, he saw her marvelling at Locharr. She appeared enchanted by the stone archway that led to the gardens, and he had to admit, it had been some time since he’d viewed the estate through the eyes of a stranger.

The gravel pathway meandered around the green lawn towards a stone fountain of Venus. Miss Goodson had insisted upon a chaperon during their walk, so he had asked Elspeth to follow at a close distance. He deliberately kept his pace slow, so as not to overexert the elderly maid. Even so, he couldn’t understand why his governess found it necessary to be shadowed at all times.

‘How lovely,’ Miss Goodson breathed when she saw the fountain. Water spilled from the hands of Venus into the small pool, and a small frog swam within the fountain. She walked alongside him, her hand pressed against his arm. The slight touch made him feel conscious of Miss Goodson’s every movement, and it was strange to realise that he was enjoying her company.

Her green eyes shone with fascination and she was delighted with the garden, even though naught was blooming. ‘It will be filled with roses, come the summertime.’

‘There are roses, aye.’ He didn’t know what else to say besides that. Miss Goodson waited a moment, as if she were expecting more. When he said nothing, she stopped beside a stone urn and offered an encouraging smile. It was almost a silent battle of wills, as if she expected him to say more and he didn’t want to. He had never been one for long conversations.

‘Is there anything you would like to converse about, Locharr?’

He shrugged. ‘Nay.’ He liked the calm feeling of quiet. But from his governess’s expression, she appeared concerned.

‘When you are in London, be careful about long moments of silence with Lady Regina,’ Miss Goodson said. ‘She is the shyest young woman I’ve ever met, and I fear that if the conversation stops, it could be very uncomfortable for her.’

He didn’t see a problem in that, but he supposed some women might feel that way. ‘What are you wanting me to do?’

‘If you do not know what to say, you can always ask a question. Why don’t you ask me anything?’ Miss Goodson waited, and when Lachlan realised she wasn’t going to relent until he said something, he fumbled for a question. But came up with nothing.

He finally shrugged again and answered, ‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Let’s try this. Pretend you are the lady.’ She lowered her voice and said in a growling tone, ‘Lady Regina, how long have you been in London?’

‘That’s a daft question. They come to London every Season.’

She bit back a laugh. ‘Yes, you and I know that, but won’t you play along for the sake of conversation? Just give it a try.’

He raised his voice to a falsetto and said, ‘You already know I come to London every Season.’

Miss Goodson held back her smile, though her eyes shone with mirth. In a low tone, she said, ‘The weather has been very rainy, as of late.’

Honestly, her idea of a conversation was not that interesting. ‘Why should I care about the weather?’ he asked. ‘Why should she?’

Miss Goodson reached out to touch his arm. ‘Patience, Locharr. Just give me a moment longer, won’t you?’

He couldn’t conceive of how this could have any merit at all. And she was making him feel foolish by playing the part of the lady. ‘Fine,’ he gritted out.

‘Let’s try it one more time. Now that we have talked about her travels and the weather, I might venture onto a new topic to get better acquainted.’ She cleared her throat and stared up at him. ‘You should try to make eye contact with the lady when you are speaking to her. So much is revealed in the eyes.’

Then she straightened and said in a deep voice, ‘It has been many years since we have seen one another, Lady Regina. I was wondering how you enjoy spending your time. Do you paint?’

Lachlan understood what she was trying to show him, but he couldn’t resist the urge to make the conversation more interesting. In a falsetto, he said, ‘No, I find painting dull. I prefer hunting.’

Miss Goodson bit her lip hard and shook her head. ‘A lady might not indulge in hunting.’

‘Now you’re wrong in that,’ he countered. ‘Many ladies enjoy hunting. And I thought you were wanting to play along?’

‘Fine,’ she sighed. In her deep voice, she uttered, ‘Fox hunting or deer?’

‘Boar,’ he said in the high-pitched voice. ‘I enjoy gutting pigs.’

At that, Miss Goodson no longer suppressed her laughter. Her eyes filled with mirth, and her hearty laugh brought about his own smile. ‘You are incorrigible, Locharr.’

He knew it, but he hadn’t been able to resist the urge. ‘And now you see that giving me lessons would be impossible.’

She shrugged at that. ‘Actually, I believe it would be very rewarding to help you. I should be glad of the opportunity.’

They walked out of the garden and into the inner bailey of the castle. Miss Goodson glanced up the staircase and asked, ‘Might we walk along the battlements so I can have a look at the sea?’

He saw no reason why not and guided her towards the stone stairs. The castle had been built so long ago, there was a walkway along the parapets where the archers used to keep guard. The wall along the edge was low enough that she could see the expanse of trees below and the sea in the distance. The morning sun was hazy, but it sparkled upon the surface of the water.

Miss Goodson’s face brightened at the sight of the water. ‘You truly have the most beautiful home, Locharr. I should love a view like this. It’s wonderful.’

‘It is verra fine,’ he agreed. ‘But it’s a costly view. And if I mean to keep this castle, I will need those twenty thousand pounds.’

‘Lady Regina is a most fortunate woman,’ Miss Goodson said. ‘I would marry you myself to live in a castle like this.’

Though her words were light-hearted, his imagination conjured the vivid image of Miss Goodson walking along these parapets as Lady of Locharr. Her blonde curls framed a lovely face, and her green eyes warmed at the sight of his home. He wondered how she would look after being thoroughly kissed. Would a soft moan escape that mouth while she surrendered to his touch? Was there more to Miss Goodson beneath those prim and proper ways? A darker side of him thought about unravelling her sensibilities, tempting her into sin.

It led him to wonder why she had not married after her father had left them. Her sisters had done so. What had caused her to seek employment on her own instead of seeking help from her family? He studied the young woman, wondering what secrets she was hiding. Though Miss Goodson was cheerful and seemed glad to be teaching him, he suspected that there was more beneath the surface. Her eyes gleamed with enthusiasm as he’d shown her Locharr. It was a sharp contrast to his own weary view of the world.

‘Would you like to walk a little further?’ he suggested. ‘There’s a glasshouse in the gardens on the opposite side of the grounds.’

She brightened and took his arm again. ‘I would love to continue our walk.’

He guided her through the gardens towards the structure that was inspired by a birdcage. The maid was falling further behind, but it seemed that Miss Goodson was either unaware or didn’t seem to mind. As long as there was a chaperon within a certain distance, that was all she cared about.

His grandfather had built the glasshouse for his wife, and it contained some of the more exotic plants and trees that were too fragile for Scottish weather.

Miss Goodson appeared in awe of the building, and for a moment, she was quiet as she explored the plants. When she reached one of the trees, she asked, ‘Is this a banana tree?’

‘Aye. My mother had it brought over from the Caribbean.’

She reached up to touch the tiny green bananas as if she could not believe they were real. ‘I’ve never seen a banana tree before. It’s smaller than I thought it would be.’

‘This one is,’ he agreed. ‘But they can grow much larger. We have to keep it inside the glasshouse.’

‘I wonder what else your mother will bring back from her travels?’ Miss Goodson mused. ‘It sounds fascinating.’

‘Ever since my father died, she has spent most of her time in different countries. She tries to bring me a gift from each country she visits.’ It was part of the truth. Catrina had been devastated at Tavin’s death. While Lachlan had shut himself away from the outside world, his mother had consoled herself by running away. The travel expenses were very dear, but Lachlan didn’t have the heart to cut her off. It was her way of managing her own grief.

‘How wonderful. She sounds like an adventurous lady.’

Adventurous was one way of describing his mother. But Catrina reminded him of a gust of wind, moving wherever she chose, heedless of whoever she knocked over along the way. It was more peaceful when she was gone. But when she returned, he intended to have words with her about her decision to hire a governess.

‘When I thought you had a daughter, I imagined teaching her about botany in an environment just like this,’ Miss Goodson said. ‘Only there are so many plants I’ve never seen; your mother would likely know more than I.’ She drew closer to a flower and leaned in to inhale the fragrance. ‘Any child who would grow up in a home like this would be very fortunate.’

‘Then you understand why I must do anything to protect it,’ he said quietly.

Miss Goodson nodded. ‘I do understand.’ With a smile, she added, ‘And I am positive that Lady Regina will be delighted to marry you.’ She softened her tone and said, ‘I know that you don’t want me here, Locharr. But please trust that I have your best intentions in mind. I want to help you.’

‘In other words, you want to tell me what to do.’

‘Only to guide you. And because of it, you will become the most desirable bachelor in London.’

‘You have only today,’ he reminded her. ‘What could you possibly teach me in that time?’

Her green eyes warmed with interest. ‘Wait and see.’

Frances knew she would have to use unconventional lessons to attract the interest of the laird. He had no faith in her, and she had to prove her usefulness. She sensed that Locharr was a man of a competitive nature. And she thought of a way to win a third day at the castle.

‘Do you play cards, Locharr?’ she asked.

‘Only when I’m planning to win money.’ His gaze narrowed, and his scar stood out on his face, reminding her of a pirate. Which made her imagine being stolen away by a handsome buccaneer. Her brain really needed to stop thinking of such things.

But she squared her shoulders and forced herself to concentrate. ‘I was thinking we could make a wager. What do you think?’

His expression grew interested, his pirate smile making her imagination conjure up more inappropriate visions of conquest. ‘For what stakes?’

‘If I win, you will complete a lesson and allow me to stay another day. If you win, I shall help you with anything you desire.’

‘Anything?’ he mused, and her face reddened at the sudden innuendo.

Not that. But she pretended as if there was nothing untoward about her words. ‘Within reason,’ she corrected.

He eyed her with interest and shrugged. ‘I suppose we could play whist.’

‘Where shall we have our game?’ she asked. ‘Elspeth can come and chaperon again.’

‘In the parlour,’ he said. ‘But Elspeth may be tired from her walk this afternoon. She may wish to rest in her room instead.’

No. Being unchaperoned and alone with a pirate was a Very Bad Idea. ‘Or Elspeth might also welcome the chance to sit for an hour,’ Frances countered.

‘I don’t ken why we need a chaperon. I’m no’ about to try and seduce you.’

She blinked at that. Well, then. He’d made his opinion quite clear. Frances cleared her throat and said, ‘It’s merely a habit you must acquire, Locharr. In London, you may not go anywhere without a chaperon. Whether your intention is seduction or not.’

He frowned at that. ‘It seems like a waste of time.’

It was clear that he didn’t understand what she meant. ‘It is always necessary to have a chaperon. It’s protection for you, or else you might find yourself the target of another young lady’s interest. And unless you wish to wed her, you’d best never be alone with her.’ Her tone came out sharper than she’d intended, but he needed to understand the gravity of the situation. For a moment, he stared at her in a silent war of wills. Frances crossed her arms, refusing to yield.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she detected a faint note of approval from the laird. And he did call out to Alban, ordering Elspeth to join them in the parlour.

Frances tried not to gape as they walked through the halls. Although she had spent the night here, she could not resist smiling at the white columns that encircled the spiral staircase leading up. Truly, this was a magnificent castle fit for a princess.

The laird stopped in front of a smaller room and led her inside. She paused a moment to admire the parlour. ‘This is lovely.’

And it was. The crimson wallpaper was cheerful, and she liked the cosy hearth, even if there was no fire in the grate.

‘There are too many paintings,’ Lachlan countered. ‘Eight landscapes is too much for one wall.’

‘It gives one the opportunity to study a different painting each time,’ she said tactfully, though privately she agreed that it was indeed a lot of art for one room. A large portrait of an older nobleman hung over the fireplace, and Frances rather thought the man was leering at her.

MacKinloch led her to a smaller gaming table, and then he went to find a deck of playing cards. Frances shuffled the deck and remarked, ‘We really ought to have two more players for this game. Elspeth could join us. Or possibly Alban.’

‘She may not want to play,’ he pointed out. ‘And Alban has his duties to attend.’

‘Well, we can offer.’ She felt badly that the older woman had been required to traipse around the castle grounds and now had to sit in a chair.

‘She’s as deaf as a fence post. And I’m no’ in the mood to be shouting.’

‘You needn’t be rude or insensitive,’ Frances countered. ‘She cannot help her inability to hear.’

‘She’s lucky to be employed,’ he muttered, and Frances pretended not to notice.

When the elderly woman arrived in the parlour, Lachlan motioned for Elspeth to sit on the far side of the room. She sank gratefully into a chair, leaning back. ‘Thank you, Locharr!’ she shouted.

Frances was taken aback by the woman’s bellowing, but she approached Elspeth. In a loud voice, she asked the maid, ‘Would you care to play whist?’

The woman shook her head and put her hand to her ear. ‘What was that?’ she bellowed.

‘Cards!’ Frances shouted in return. ‘Do you wish to play?’

Elspeth shook her head and waved her hand. ‘Nay, lass! But thankee!’

She nodded and stepped back. To Lachlan, she said, ‘I suppose if Elspeth has no wish to play, we’ll just lay out the other hands after I deal them.’

Frances dealt out the cards and sorted her hand. She arranged her cards, trying not to think of how close his legs were to hers. He was staring at his cards as if he didn’t like what he saw. The frown made his scar more defined, but instead of frightening her, it made him appear wild and untamed. His blue eyes narrowed a moment before he fixed his attention on her again. Was he trying to distract her by flirting? There was a slight smile playing at his mouth.

Frances took a deep breath and focused on her cards again. ‘I will take the hand across from me, and you do the same. That way we will keep taking turns, and neither of us has an advantage.’

‘Or we could lay the opposite hand down,’ he suggested.

‘If we do that, there won’t be any element of surprise. I’ll know what card you’ll play next, and I’ll know where the trump cards are.’ She thought a moment. ‘We could stand up and change chairs. That could be amusing.’

He looked doubtful and then shook his head. ‘We’ll stay where we are and switch hands.’

‘Very well.’ Frances examined her hand and was pleased that there were several trump cards. ‘I shall lead.’

With that, she laid down the ace of hearts. The laird countered by throwing away his lowest heart, giving her the trick. She claimed a second trick, but on the third, he trumped her.

‘This one is mine.’ His hand brushed against hers as he collected the cards. His touch was bold, and she tried not to think of what those hands could do to a woman.

Concentrate, Frances, she warned herself. He was trying to distract her so he could win.

As the game progressed, it soon became clear that Lachlan MacKinloch was quite competitive. He delighted in winning and grimaced at the lost tricks. They each won a game. In the corner, Elspeth was quietly snoring, her mouth open as she dozed. So much for a chaperon, Frances thought. And then she wondered if Lachlan had deliberately chosen the old woman for that reason.

‘Do you think you can win?’ he asked, his voice rough and deep. His expression taunted her, as if he held a secret.

‘I know I can. But you can give up, if you wish.’ Her last card was an ace. There was no doubt in her mind that she would take the game and his forfeit. She smiled at him.

‘I never give up.’ He tapped the card against the back of his hand. ‘Ladies first.’

Frances responded by laying down the ace, smiling broadly. ‘The game is mine.’ Triumph spread across her face, and she was glad of the victory.

And yet, the laird had a gleam in his eyes. With that, he laid down a two, the lowliest of cards—but it was the trump suit.

‘No!’ Frances expelled a groan and shook her head with exasperation. ‘I thought it had already been played. I must have miscounted.’

MacKinloch took the trick and leaned back in his chair, quite satisfied by the outcome. It made her wonder exactly what he wanted from her now. Her wicked brain conjured up the idea of him kissing her, though she knew the very idea was ridiculous. But she forced herself to ask, ‘Well, what is my forfeit? Is there something you need help with?’

He stood from the table and drew closer until he towered over her. ‘Oh, aye. There are a great many things I need help with.’

His voice was low and resonant, causing her mind to think of even more scandalous thoughts. But she pretended as if his request was ordinary. ‘What do you need, Locharr?’

Oh, heavens, her voice sounded breathless, as if she was glad that their chaperon was fast asleep. When the truth was, her nerves had gathered, causing her heart to pound rapidly.

‘I need you to come with me,’ he said.

Into a darkened corner where he would press her back, his warm mouth against her cheek? Her imagination went wild, and she tried to push back the scandalous visions in her mind.

Her face flamed, but she asked, ‘Locharr, what is it?’

MacKinloch finally said, ‘It’s a task that I loathe and despise, but it must be done. My father left the estate ledgers in a terrible state. For your forfeit, I want you to help me sort through the papers.’ With a wry smile, he added, ‘Afterwards, you’ll be wanting to flee back to London. It’s horrifying.’

Relief soared through her, and her expression turned sympathetic. ‘Of course, I will be glad to help you.’ Without thinking, she touched his hand with her own. His eyes darkened, but not with anger. No, there was a flash of heat that rose up, tempting her towards more. Frances snatched back her hand, feeling like an idiot.