When a Scot Loves a Lady

have notice, only little interest.”

But she was interested. More than she could bear.

The dowager reached for her arm, but she turned away. If she had told her mother the truth years ago, perhaps she could confide in her now. But it was too late. She must bear this uncertainty and confusion alone.

She searched for Emily again and found her by a portrait of a peasant girl sitting beside a brace of soggy birds tied with twine.

“It is quite lifelike, don’t you think?” Emily said pensively.

“Too.” Kitty took her arm and drew her away, sucking in steadying breaths. “What have you been doing this past sennight back in town, Marie Antoine?”

“I have finished with that name, Kitty,” she replied. “I am resolved to find another.”

“I am certain you will come up with something lovely, as always.”

Beneath her hand, Emily’s body went stiff and she halted. Kitty followed the direction of her attention. Several yards away through a parting in the crowd stood a young, darkly handsome gentleman with a striking beauty on his arm. Mr. Yale with Lady Constance Read, Leam’s cousin.

“Why look, Emily. It is Mr. Yale,” she said quite unnecessarily, but her thoughts had scrambled.

“Have you seen him since Shropshire?”

“No.” Emily’s lips were tight. Kitty’s heart thudded. The gentleman and his companion were looking quite obviously at them. If she spoke with them, she might hear something of Leam. He had made her no promises. She didn’t even know if he remained in London. Apparently he had found the ability to resist her after all, but that certainty made no difference to her aching heart and the warmth in her blood each night when she lay awake thinking of him. Thinking of him and wishing she lived another woman’s life, a woman who needn’t regret and remember and fantasize, yet never truly live.

“He has seen us. We must say hello.” Kitty drew her friend forward.

Mr. Yale smiled quite pleasantly. Emily slipped her arm from Kitty’s, turned completely about, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Lady Katherine, how do you do?” He bowed. “Allow me to present to you Lady Constance Read.”

The sumptuous girl smiled and made a very pretty curtsy. She was taller than Kitty by an inch or two, all golden tresses, fashionable attire, and vibrant blue eyes.

“Lady Katherine, I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” she said with a soft northern lilt.

“My friend here has told me such diverting stories of your holiday sojourn in Shropshire. My cousin is rather more close-lipped about it, but you know how Scottish men can be rather taciturn.”

Kitty’s hands were damp. Abruptly she felt … studied. Both pairs of eyes watched her, it seemed, the sparkling blue and the silver rather too acute for a chance meeting.

“I know very little of Scottish gentlemen, in fact, Lady Constance,” she said quite honestly.

“But your mother’s beau, Lord Chamberlayne, is my countryman, of course, although from quite farther north than either Read Hall or Alvamoor,” she said with a lovely smile that looked perfectly genuine. “You are better acquainted with Scotsmen than you know.”

Kitty met Mr. Yale’s quick gaze.

“My intended spurns me, it seems,” he only said, glancing into the crowd.

“Then I am to understand Lady Constance knows of your charade at Willows Hall?”

“She does.”

“It had the desired effect, you know. Her parents have left off with their plans to betroth her to Mr.

Worthmore. Did she thank you?”

“A terse word or two.” He smiled slightly. “And speaking of charades, my lady, have you come across our other mutual acquaintance recently? This week, perhaps?”

Kitty struggled for words. “I think you must know I have.”

“More recently than in the park with our worthy viscount? By the way, neither of them told me of that meeting or I would have been there to throw down my gauntlet on your behalf, before both.” He bowed. “I was obliged to learn of it through other channels.”

She could barely think. “I don’t know what you mean to ask me.”

“He means, Lady Katherine—Oh, may I call you Kitty?” Lady Constance said prettily. “I do so dislike excessive formality.”

Excessive?

Kitty nodded.

“He means to ask, Kitty, if you have seen Leam in the past several days since he re-donned his farmer’s garb and began going about ladies’ drawing rooms with his dogs again?”

“Slow down, Con. You are bewildering the lady, I imagine.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kitty replied with more composure than her racing pulse recommended, “but I am not such a slow top as all that.” Lady Constance was involved in the secrets, clearly.

“Of course you aren’t. Pray, forgive me, ma’am.”

“Do cease all this bowing, sir.” The visitors to the exhibition seemed to flow about her like a quick creek, she in the center of it with her feet sunk in icy water. She was bewildered, and yet her skin prickled with excitement. They were speaking to her as a confidante, as if they knew she knew everything. But, after all, they were spies. Or not quite, if Leam was to be believed. “If he did not tell you about the meeting with Lord Gray, then does he know you are speaking with me like this now?”

Mr. Yale shook his head slowly.

“Why are you? Isn’t this all secret information?”

“In point of fact, we are no longer at it, my lady. We’ve all quit, except Gray, which makes it all the more worrisome that Blackwood has returned to it. He was the one who most wanted out.”

“More to the point, Kitty.” Constance laid a gentle hand on Kitty’s arm. “My cousin trusted you.”

In Shropshire it had all gone too fast, their coming together like a sudden storm. It felt the same now, the rush of the unreal carrying her away. But, just as before, she welcomed it. She longed for it.

“He said he intended to abandon that role and return to Scotland. Why is he doing this?”

Lady Constance lifted slender brows. “We thought perhaps you might know.”

“Did you come here today to speak with me, then?”

The golden beauty nodded.

“I feel as though I am being watched.”

Mr. Yale grinned. “You are.”

“But not only by Mr. Grimm,” Lady Constance said. “Which is why we are seeking your assistance now. Will you help us? In doing so, you will be helping your mother, of course. You cannot like not knowing the truth of matters.”

“What—what do you think I know?”

“Something of what we know.” A glimmer lit Mr. Yale’s eyes. “That there are those who suspect Chamberlayne of consorting with Scottish rebels, perhaps even instigating rebellion and selling state secrets to the French, and that you were asked to provide information corroborating this. Have you?”

She shook her head.

Lady Constance smiled. “Good, because we have a better plan, one that should end this business once and for all.”

“A plan?”

“One that you may not entirely like,” Constance added.

Kitty remained silent.

“Not long ago an English ship with a valuable cargo went missing off the east coast of Scotland.

We want you to pretend to Lord Chamberlayne that you have had an affaire with Leam during which he revealed to you that he was involved in this piracy, and that you are now willing to share this secret with your mother’s trusted friend because Leam broke your heart and you wish to get revenge upon him.”

The wide chamber seemed to close in on Kitty, centuries of vibrant colors and saints’ faces crowding