Once Upon a Tartan

you’ll perk up in no time. Ariadne MacGregor, are you scampering about unescorted again?”

Ian did flirt, and charm, and yet all the while, Hester had the sense he was masking an alert watchfulness, and then it occurred to her Tye was not yet in evidence. Hester had seen him cantering up the drive—yes, she’d watched out her window like the veriest schoolgirl—which meant he was likely in the stables, fussing his horse.

“If you’re looking for Spathfoy,” Hester said, “he’s not yet back from making arrangements to ship Flying Rowan down to Aberdeen on the train. Tea, Ian?”

“Of course. Where’s my little Fiona, then? Did she cadge a ride with her bonny new uncle?”

Ariadne glanced up from the tray. “The child is in the library, reading and drawing pictures. She’s taken to drawing lions and is getting quite good at them.”

Ian accepted his tea and stirred it slowly. “If she drew one more unicorn, I’d have to paste a horn to poor Hannibal’s forehead. I’ll look in on the girl before I go. You’ve not said anything to her?”

He aimed his question at Aunt Ariadne, which was odd. Hester had been the one to greet him, and if Fiona had learned Ian was visiting, she would have dropped her lions and stories and insinuated herself into her uncle’s company in the next instant.

So what had he meant, about not saying anything to Fee?

Ariadne glanced at Hester fleetingly. “I haven’t said a word.”

Hester set her cup and saucer down carefully. “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?”

“Yes.” From Ariadne.

“No.” From Ian.

They exchanged another glance, then Ian shot to his feet and went to the window. He spoke with his back to them. “Am I to understand Spathfoy has said nothing to Hester?”

Ariadne remained seated. “As far as I know, he’s said nothing to Hester or Fiona.”

“Said nothing about what?” Hester didn’t recall rising, but she was somehow across the room, beside Ian, her gaze locked on his.

“Now, lass, there’s no need to get into a dither. We’ll get it sorted out soon enough.”

She wondered wildly if Jasper Merriman had decided to come visit her in the Highlands. “No need to get into a dither about what?”

Ian shot her a single, tormented glance. “Come with me.” He took her by the wrist and led her toward the door. “Ariadne, if Spathfoy shows up, kill him for me.”

“Of course, Ian.”

“Ian, you are not making sense. Why would you want to kill—?”

He came to an abrupt halt outside the library door. “The sodding bastard is taking Fiona with him when he leaves tomorrow, Hester. That’s been his purpose for coming here, though I suspect he’s a reluctant minion for old Quinworth. I’ve come to tell Fiona she’ll be taking a journey with Spathfoy, though how I’ll look that child in the eye—”

He looked away. His grip on her wrist was nearly painful.

“Spathfoy is taking Fiona from us?”

Ian dropped her wrist. “I canna stop him, lass. The local courts can’t help, because Fee’s possibly an English citizen. Mary Fran left me no documents, and Spathfoy has an affidavit from the marquess. The old man swore in writing that Gordie’s will says Fee is to be raised by her paternal relatives. We will get her back, though. I vow that to you and to the child herself.”

He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself, but all Hester could think, all she could take in, was that Tiberius Flynn had become her lover all the while he was planning on stealing Fiona away to be raised by strangers.

Her lover, and if he had his way, her fiance. Doors were slamming, Ian was speaking, but Hester could not make sense of the words over the thundering of her heart.

“Balfour, I wasn’t aware you’d scheduled a call.”

The voice was coldly, obscenely beautiful. Hester could not face the man who spoke, the man who’d joined his body so tenderly to hers just the previous night.

“Fiona deserves at least a day to make her good-byes,” Ian said. He did not offer Spathfoy his hand, and at that moment, Hester would have been glad to see Ian draw a pistol on their guest.

Their guest. Her would-be fiance, Fee’s long-lost uncle, Hester’s suitor—his list of transgressions grew with every breath Hester took. She fisted her hands at her sides and raised her chin to meet Spathfoy’s calm green-eyed gaze.

“My lord, perhaps you’d like to join us. Ian and I were just about to explain to Fiona that you’ll be taking her to live in England.”

“To visit,” Ian said though clenched teeth. “It might be a ten-year-long visit, though I can assure you, Spathfoy, it will be the longest, most miserable ten years you or your benighted excuse for a father pass on earth. I will bankrupt you with lawsuits, spread the scandal wherever I go, trade on my acquaintance with the Sovereign, and deluge my niece with letters, ponies, and visits from her Scottish relations until that girl comes home to the people who love her—and my efforts will be as nothing compared to what Mary Fran and Matthew will do.”

Hester risked a look at Spathfoy’s face. His features might have been carved in marble, so austere was his expression. “You do what you must, Balfour, as do I. Miss Daniels, I regret that you’ve learned of this development from someone other than myself. I had intended to tell you after the meal tonight.”

Was he insinuating he’d have told her when she was naked and panting in his arms?

“Ian has spared you the trouble, my lord. Perhaps we ought to concern ourselves with conveying Fiona’s good fortune to her?”

She kept her voice perfectly, lethally civil.

Spathfoy looked uncomfortable. “Hester, I had hoped to be able to tell the girl you’d be joining us on our travels.”

“Hopes get dashed with appalling regularity, my lord. Ian, this task is not made easier by putting it off.” She took Ian’s arm and let him escort her into the library, leaving Spathfoy to trail after them and close the door quietly.

“Uncle Ian!” Fiona shot away from the big estate desk and wrapped her arms around Ian’s waist. “Is Aunt Augusta with you?”

“She is not, though you’ll see her soon, I’m sure. What have you been drawing, Fee?” He hoisted her to his hip, as if she were a younger child, and carried her to the chair behind the desk.

“I’m working on my lions, like the lion that was Androcles’s friend. I can’t get the nose right, but I thought I’d go out to the stables and look at the cats, and maybe that would help.”

“Any excuse to visit the stables, right?” He sat with her in his lap, leaving Hester to go to the window and try to shut out the conversation taking place. She was aware of Spathfoy standing beside her and tried to shut his presence out as well.

“Fiona, you know your uncle Tye must leave us tomorrow?” Ian’s voice was conversational and pleasant, not at all the tone of a man imparting bad news.

“Yes, but he might visit again, mightn’t he?”

“He’s your uncle, so we’d never turn him away, but he’s offered to take you with him on his journey. To take you on the train clear down to Northumbria.”

Ian made it sound as if this were a grand adventure, an unparalleled opportunity, and viewed dispassionately, perhaps it was.

More likely, Spathfoy’s “offer” would ruin a fragile child’s last prayer of happiness. Hester wiped a tear from her cheek and tried to figure out what, exactly, Spathfoy had done wrong. She wanted to name his sin and hold it close for as long as it took to forget him.

“If you’ll agree not to do this, I’ll marry you, Spathfoy.” She kept her voice low while Fiona asked Ian a question about how fast the trains went.

“You’d hate me if I accepted that offer, Hester. I’d hoped you would understand. This is for the child’s own good, though if the choice were mine, I’d leave her here.”

“The choice is yours.”

“It is not.” He held out a handkerchief to her. She ignored it and fumbled for her own.