Teach Me Under the Mistletoe (10 page)

Drawing the brush along the friendly chestnut’s rounded, if somewhat chunky, contours relaxed the turmoil raging through Hugh’s mind. He pulled the comb through the mane and tried not to think of how a certain young lady’s silky dark hair would feel when threaded through his fingers.

It seemed Lady Caroline was determined to follow him into his thoughts during even the most menial and simple task.

“Ye’re late gettin’ to it, aren’t ye?”

Hugh stilled the comb but didn’t turn. Dougal’s tone had been genial; his words, however, anything but a simple observation. Rather, they were a demand to know where he’d been. “My head was ailin’. I went for a walk to clear it.” He took up another section of mane and pulled the comb through.

“A walk to the follies?” Dougal’s tone sharpened.

No longer any need to wonder if Dougal had read the note. Unless he’d been seen. As he turned, he ordered his features into a bland expression. “I may have ended up there.”

“I thought we’d agreed that ye’d no’ do anythin’ foolish.”

A smile threatened to take hold of Hugh’s lips. If Lady Caroline thought
his
accent deepened when his emotions took over, she should spend time with Dougal. Of course, given their respective stations, she’d never be afforded such an opportunity. The thought had an oddly irksome effect that drove him to turn around.

“Actually, ye’re the one who did all the agreeing.” Hugh dropped the currycomb into a nearby bucket with a clatter. “As I told ye, I’m doing nothing wrong. But I did feel as perhaps the lass oughtn’t be left waitin’ up there in the cold.” Gentle old Patty tossed her head in reaction to his agitation so he stroked her neck. “There now, easy ye go.” He widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest. “Or are ye tellin’ me ye’d have left her there waitin’?”

Some of Dougal’s bluster seemed to leave him. He shook his head. “No, ye’re right. I wouldn’t. But I don’t want trouble between Joseph and yerself, hear?”

Hugh’s tension drained. Dougal still labored under the misapprehension that it was Henrietta he’d met at the follies. He nodded. “There’ll be no trouble between us. I’m not sweet on his lass. I’m helping—” He sighed, the lie of omission not setting well with him, and he’d not yet omitted anything. Inspiration struck like a spark. “When ye worked at the dinner party hosted by Lord and Lady Braithwaite…”

Dougal made a sour face at the name. It hadn’t been a particularly happy occasion when Lady Frances had conscripted Dougal’s services as a footman to help serve dinner. She’d made certain he’d attended her seat, a task which apparently had come with surreptitious touches to his person by the lady herself. Still, the reference served its purpose to change his brother’s focus.

“What made you think of
that
?” asked Dougal in a low, angry tone.

Hugh shrugged. “As I said, I’m helping with something.” He angled his head, taking in his brother’s ruddy face, and suppressed a smile. “I was wondering… how were the guests announced. Did ye hear? Do ye recall?”

A grim expression settled over Dougal’s face. “Aye, that I recall.”

Chapter Nine

Kitty kept her steps sedate and ladylike as she strolled along the garden path. Mr. Abnernathy had finished cutting back the hedges. Flower beds had been covered with leaves like children tucked up in bed in the nursery. Groups of boxwoods that had been planted in the shapes of spades and diamonds in the center of the lawn had darkened to winter gray-green that not even the brilliant midday sun could lighten. The terrain roughened as she approached the outcropping of gorse bushes. A thin layer of white frost clung to the green spikes where the sun had yet to reach with its melting rays, lending a bluish cast to the underbrush.

As soon as she passed the bushes, Kitty tossed a glance over her shoulder. A patch of dark red brick was all she could see of the house. Minding the pebbles strewn along the path beneath her feet, she gathered her skirt in one hand and quickened her pace. As soon as the follies loomed ahead, she slowed her steps again lest Hugh McCollum mistake her eagerness as desire for his company. For it was not. She only wanted to know what he’d meant by getting back on the horse.

She rounded the last bend and there he stood, in the center of the stone terrace. Her traitorous heart quickened at the sight of him. His worn gray coat had been replaced by dark tweed, somewhat less frayed, and likely a good sight warmer. It was buttoned and fit him nicely. The sun glistened off his dark hair, which was again uncovered.

But it was the terrace itself that captured her attention — and her sense of whimsy. For he’d decorated the columns with twines of ivy. Delight allowed a bubble of laughter to escape before she pressed her fingers to her lips. As Kitty moved to step from the path, Hugh held up a hand, indicating she should wait.

“Beg pardon, m’lady, but there are some people awaiting entry ahead of you.”

Kitty gasped and darted her glance around the terrace, her heart drumming a staccato beat in her throat. Who had he brought along?

Two small wooden crates stood side by side before a privet hedge. On these sat four brown burlap bags, heavy with whatever they contained, grouped two-by-two. They looked so much like the chairs overflowing with debutantes that traditionally lined the dance floor at the best balls, that Kitty’s laughter returned, and this time it wouldn’t be held back.

When her giggles slowed, Hugh stepped forward and to the side and then spoke in a toneless voice. “Announcing Sir Frolicsome of Effervescent Manor and Miss Flighty Hoyden.”

More laughter threatened, and Kitty rolled her lips inward to still it. Goodness, how did Hugh keep such a straight and sour face?

“Presenting Lord Wants-Dowry and Lady Has-Dowry.”

The laughter was getting harder to contain. Where on earth had he arrived at such outrageous — albeit true enough — names?

“Announcing the arrival of Mr. Fable-Teller and Miss Have-You-Heard.”

Oh, dear. A small titter leaked through her tightly sealed lips, and she bit down harder.

“Presenting Lord Snobbish of Arrogance Hall and Lady Nose-in-the-Air.”

Unable to restrain herself any longer, Kitty found herself rocked by gales of laughter.

Hugh regarded her in silence, one eyebrow raised, obviously waiting once again for her to control herself.

Kitty gulped in several deep breaths and forced her merriment into submission. She swallowed and straightened her shoulders, striving for a regal posture of which her mother could be proud.

“Presenting Lord Stumble-About of Falldown Hill and Lady Caroline Helena Lucille Tyndall, daughter of the Eighth Earl of Strickland and her Ladyship, the Countess of Strickland.”

In mid-giggle, Kitty’s breath caught.
How did he learn my whole name?
And did it truly matter? The way it had rolled off his tongue… his Scot accent slightly deepened as it often did when his emotions led him… She forced herself to take a deep, even breath but nothing she did steadied the staccato rhythm of her heart.

Hugh canted his head sideways, both eyebrows raised in challenge.

Affecting as majestic a manner as possible in the midst of her tumultuous emotions, Kitty curled her arm outward, placing it into the “elbow” of her nonexistent escort. She raised her foot and took a step.

And stumbled forward when the heel of her boot landed too close to the edge of the stone.

Before Kitty’s cry of alarm even left her throat, Hugh closed his arms around her waist and drew her up tight against him. How on earth had he managed to close the distance of several paces that had lain between them?

As his familiar earthy scent enveloped her, Kitty sighed and slid her arms upward, twining them about his neck. With a sigh, she rested her forehead against his shoulder and waited for her racing heart to calm.

The heat ebbed from her face, and Kitty leaned back, meeting Hugh’s concerned gaze with a smile of gratitude. “Kind sir, you seem to be in the habit of coming to my rescue. Perhaps you should follow me around to save me from my own stumbling feet.”

His answering grin flashed widely. “A task I would happily undertake, m’lady.”

Kitty’s knees weakened, and heat invaded her cheeks again. His eyes sparked with an intensity that held her captive. Goodness, why had it suddenly become impossible to breathe?

Abruptly, Hugh cleared his throat and stepped back. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he averted his gaze to the right.

Cool air swirled around Kitty with his sudden departure from her proximity, and she shivered but refrained from wrapping her arms around her middle. She pushed her lips into what she hoped was a smile. “Perhaps I am
not
ready to make a grand entrance after all.”

Hugh stiffened and squared his shoulders. “Nonsense. ‘Tis only a matter of practice.” He turned back to her and offered his arm. “That and perhaps ye need the correct escort.”

As she placed her hand in the crook of Hugh’s elbow, a tingle of awareness buzzed from the tips of Kitty’s fingers, spreading upward and then inward, settling into her middle like a hive of busy bees.

* * * *

They spent perhaps an hour parading about the stone terrace. Hugh tried and failed to determine why Lady Caroline referred to herself as clumsy and awkward.

“Ye caught yer foot on the edge of a stone is all,” he argued. The look of sheer distress on her face made him want to reach out and smooth away the fine lines marring her forehead. He stepped back a pace. Best he remember he did not have that right. “Ye won’t have to negotiate uneven slabs of rock while ye’re entering the ball.

“‘Tis more than that,” she said, shaking her head as she sank onto the stone bench with the grace of a petal drifting to the ground. “I get… anxious. I worry about falling and then my feet begin to feel as if they are
made
out of stone.”

Hugh’s lips worked into a smile he didn’t bother to hide. “Well, if ye have heavy feet, that ought to keep ye from being upended, I should think.”

The lady’s face colored up into a pretty pink. He’d never look at a wild pink rose again without thinking of Lady Caroline and her delicate blushes. Once again, he tore his gaze off her. “How are ye at the dancing?” Stepping back, he cast a critical glance downward, where he could just make out the toes of her half-boots.

The tint of her rosy cheeks deepened. “I managed to avoid stomping on any feet at my parents’ last dinner party.”

Aye, that she had, from what he’d seen. Suppressing a sigh, Hugh nodded. It didn’t seem he could prolong the lesson. “Well, then, I suppose—”

“I often say the wrong thing!” blurted Lady Caroline.

“Beg pardon?” Hugh leveled her in his stare. “How can ye say the wrong thing?”

“I-I go on about inanities.” She stood and gestured at the geese rippling the water in the reflecting pool as they cut a V across the surface. “Things like the migrating habits of the greylag goose. D-did you know he should have departed more than a month gone? Yet he chose to stay. One of his wings hangs a bit awkward, so I think perhaps he cannot fly.” She shrugged. “Those… sorts of wrong… things.”

Once again, Hugh found himself marveling that she apparently saw so little value in herself, when in reality she was of more worth than all of the peerage put together. Would her intended understand that? Likely not. He smiled against the heaviness in his heart. “I’m afraid I cannot assist you with conversation. The topics I choose are usually more suited to the things one might say to a horse.”

The soft trill of her laughter set tiny fires in his blood. “Perhaps we should practice anyway. I could teach
you
a bit.”

Hugh studied the ground. To what purpose? He’d never be joining Lady Caroline or her family in the drawing room. Still, if it would help her achieve her dream… And it would prolong their time together. Those torturous hours during which he found he needed to constantly remind himself of the boundaries between commoner and noble. Those glorious moments when she laughed at his silliness or met his eyes and smiled… only for him. Shaking his head, he forced the thoughts from his mind.

“I suppose we shall meet on the morrow then,” he murmured, offering his elbow. “Come, I’ll escort ye to the bend in the path.”

As self-torment went, it wasn’t the worst abuse he’d ever committed.

* * * *

The newest footman held the door and Kitty marched through, sending him a smile. The sense of giddiness that set her blood to thrumming erratically in her veins had proven impossible to restrain.

Some of her merriment collapsed when she bumped full tilt into her father as he exited his study. “There you are. Where have you been?”

Her heart began pounding in her throat for a completely different reason. “Father! How… that is, you were looking for me?”

“I was, actually. Why don’t you join your mother and myself in the drawing room in a half hour.” He gave a crisp nod, turned, and entered his study again, almost as though he’d forgotten which way he’d been going in the first place.

Kitty’s heart sank as she trudged across the foyer and began to descend the staircase. Had they discovered what she’d been up to?
Hugh!
Surely, her father would punish him if he knew they’d become friends. She paused with her hand on the cool brass side rail. Should she send word? No, she should wait and see what her father was after, she realized, tossing her head. But Hugh must be protected at all costs. He’d done nothing.

Well, next to nothing, whispered her heart. There was that one little thing he did just by breathing. He made her feel things she’d never known a woman could feel. If only—

The door to her rooms was flung open before she touched the latch. Jenny stood on the other side, eyeing her with suspicion. “And where have
you
been?”

Kitty staggered back a step. Had everyone been searching for her? What if they’d found her?

“I went for a stroll.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes. “Outside? In the cold and damp air?”

“You sound like Mother,” grumbled Kitty, untying her hat and lifting it from her head then setting it on her dressing table. “I like the cool weather. I’m looking forward to when it gets cold enough to ice skate on the reflecting pool.” Her hands faltered at the fasteners on her cloak. Oh, dear! She should have kept that thought to herself. Now Jenny might figure out where she took herself off to.