Snowy Night with a Highlander Read Free

chaise no less, which, I said to me wife, Lucy, was quite a step up for our girl, it was—”
    “ Uncle, ” Fiona said stiffly.
    “Pardon?” he said to her. But with one rather stern look from her, he nodded. “Aye.” He glanced at Cameron again. “Here she is, then, our lass, Fiona, returned to us, but desperate to speak to her brother, the earl, and there he is, all the way to Blackwood. She’s determined to go to him and the wife and I, we canna stop her, for Fiona can be a bit headstrong when she’s of a mind,” he blithely continued as Fiona sighed heavenward.
    “Nevertheless, the wife and I thought perhaps the laird or some of the Buchanan people would be returning to Blackwood for Hogmanay, eh? And would it no’ be lovely, sir, if Fiona could just”—he made a gesture with his fingersthat looked like someone running—“tag along? Mrs. Seaver and I could rest comfortably knowing she’d gone on with the Buchanans and no’ on her own with naugh’ more to protect her than the wisp of a girl she calls a lady’s maid.”
    “I beg your pardon, sir, but the lady wishes to travel to Blackwood at this time of year?” Cameron repeated carefully.
    “What’s that you say?” Seaver said.
    “Yes sir, to Blackwood,” Fiona said politely.
    Cameron fidgeted nervously with the cuff of his shirt. “My lady, you are surely aware that the roads are hard to travel this time of year, aye?”
    “I am indeed aware of that. But they are traveled, sir.”
    “Aye, they are,” Cameron said. “Would you be traveling alone?”
    “With a lady’s maid, as my uncle said. If she can be accommodated, of course.”
    “What’d he say?” Seaver demanded, leaning into Fiona.
    “He inquired if I would have a proper chaperone!”
    “Oh aye, of course,” Seaver said, nodding. “You donna think we’d send her off willy-nilly, then, do you, sir? Aye, of course she’ll have her lady’s maid. Good solid lass, that one. Sheridan is her name, but we call her Sherri. Been with the family for nigh on ten years now, and she’ll brook no tomfoolery. She’s no’ always been with Fiona, no, but she had a hankering to see London, and there was Fiona, off to London to be with her brother. We were sorry to lose her—”
    “Uncle,” Fiona said, laying a delicate hand on his arm. “I am certain Mr. Cameron does no’ have time to hear our entire family history.”
    Seaver looked at Cameron. “All I mean to say is that Sherri’s done quite right by my niece and is a proper chaperone.”
    “That’s . . . fortunate,” Cameron said uncertainly. “Lady Fiona, I must warn you that what with the snow and rain we’ve had, no’ to mention the bitterly cold weather, the roads to Blackwood are treacherous. And there is the constant threat of highwaymen once you reach the Highlands.”
    From where he sat, Duncan could see Fiona folding her hands primly in her lap. “While I appreciate your concern, sir, I must speak with my brother as soon as possible. It is a matter of great urgency.”
    “A letter willna do, then?” Cameron gamely tried.
    She shook her head. “I wouldna risk putting it to paper.”
    That was curious. Duncan knew Lambourne was a risk taker with a penchant for trouble, just as Duncan had been once. He guessed there was a debt of some sort, and probably a sizable one to prompt this foolish venture on his sister’s part.
    “And what if the laird declines?” Mr. Cameron asked.
    “Then I shall take a public coach,” the lady said.
    “The public coach only goes as far as Aberfeldy,” Cameron reminded her.
    She straightened her back and raised her chin stubbornly. “I shall make do from there.”
    Make do from there? She was mad! Duncan certainly did not recall Fiona Haines as being mad as an old hen.
    “Well then,” Cameron sighed. “I shall present your request to the laird. You should have word at week’s end.”
    “Week’s end ?” she cried.
    “What comes at week’s end?” Seaver demanded,