The characters and events portrayed inthis book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living ordead, is purely coincidental and not intended by theauthor.
Landing a Laird
Copyright © 2013 by JaneCharles
Smashwords Edition
Cover Design by Lily Smith
All rights reserved. No part of thisbook may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanicalmeans—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in criticalarticles or reviews—without written permission.
This ebook is licensed for yourpersonal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or givenaway to other people. If you would like to share this book withanother person, please purchase an additional copy for eachrecipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, orit was not purchased for your use only, then please return andpurchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work ofthe author.
For Christy & Jay
~ Jane
Note from the Author
Landing aLaird, a novella, first appeared inanthology, The Betting Season. Itlater appeared in acompilation, Scots, Spies and Salacious Lies.While it is not technically a TenaciousTrents novella, one is present in thisstory.
If reading the TenaciousTrent series in order, Landing aLaird, took place betweenCompromised for Christmas and A MisguidedLord.
Mr. Fiske bets Lord Alstonthree hundred pounds that Lord Lydell will allow encourage
be compromised by LadyMoira Kirkwood and be hauled off to Scotland
before the end of theSeason. ~ April 19, 1813
Lady Moira Kirkwood stretched her armsabove her head, opened her eyes, and immediately sat up. “Goodness,what time is it?”
Beatrice, her maid, popped her headout of the dressing room. “It is close to noon, Lady Moira, but Iam not surprised you slept so late, last night being your firstball and all.”
If Moira hadn’t insisted Beatrice notwait up for her, the maid would have known she hadn’t been outuntil the wee morning hours, but that was not the case.
In fact, she’d barely made anappearance at the Heathfields’ ball before her mother determined itwas time to leave. The only friend she had seen was her dearfriend, Pippa, Lady Philippa Casemore, and that was from across thevast ballroom. They’d shared a quick wave before her mother hadpulled her away. Once the introductions were out of the way, Moirahoped to find Miss Patience Findley and join Pippa, who seemed tobe having a grand time, but her mother insisted onleaving.
“It adds mystery,” Motherhad insisted.
Mystery? “This is my first ball. May I at least stay long enough forone dance?”
“No, you maynot.”
And that was it. An hour after theywalked through the door, they were walking back out. Upon arrivinghome, her mother sent her to bed for a good night’s rest so thatshe wouldn’t develop wrinkles or bags or circles under her eyes,and to consider the gentlemen she had met that night.
Instead of doing as she was told,which Moira rarely did, she made a list of the few eligible menthat had made her acquaintance that evening. There had to be atleast one Scotsman, with an estate close to Edinburgh, preferably.The Highlands would never do because they were far too remote. Onemust have access to a good modiste, a lending library, and ahaberdashery if one was to survive so far away from friends andfamily.
Moira rose from her bed, walked to herdesk, and picked up the list she had penned before falling asleep.There were only five names, and none of them sounded even remotelyScottish. If her mother was going to limit her time at balls toonly an hour, Moira needed a new plan.
“The light blue will looklovely on you.”
Moira glanced at thewalking dress Beatrice laid out on the bed. Walking dress. She was to meet Pippaat the entrance of Hyde Park today. Moira glanced at the clockagain. She still had two hours until their appointment. At leastPippa would have stayed for the entire night and probably had awonderful time. Moira couldn’t wait to hear the stories. Oh, whycouldn’t she have an old, lax guardian instead of hermother?
A scratch at the door drew Moira’sattention. “Come.”
Mary, another maid, popped her headinside the chambers. “Lord and Lady Hearne to see you, LadyMoira.”
“Tell them I will be rightdown.” Why were her brother and sister-in-law here? “And have teaand cakes delivered. Lots of cakes, please.” Her stomach grumbled.Normally, she would have had her morning meal beforenow.
“Very good.” Mary bobbed aquick curtsey and closed the door.
Moira rushed through her toilette,without allowing Beatrice to do much with her hair except brush andto pin it back before rushing to meet her brother andsister-in-law. Nyle and Alvina had been at the Heathfields’.Perhaps they would have stories to tell.
“Moira Kirkwood, ladiesdo not run downstairs. They do not appear below stairs without their hair being arranged andtheir clothing properly attired.”
She skidded to a halt, her slipperscarrying her a few extra feet on the marble floor, the moment sheheard her mother’s voice. Moira glanced down at her gown. It wasprecisely what she’d planned on wearing to meet Pippa later thatday. Oh, she so hated changing clothing three, four, five times aday. It was a terrible waste of time when one could be reading,shopping or simply enjoying a glorious day.
She turned to face the woman who wasthe bane of her existence. “Alvina and Nyle are here. I wished tosee them and they don’t care how I’m dressed.”
Her mother reached the foyer andraised an eyebrow. “What of other callers? They willcare.”
Moira suppressed a sigh. “There are noother callers, Mother, nor do I expect there to be any.”
“Of course there will becallers,” her mother insisted. “You made quite an impression lastevening. I expect they will be arriving within thehour.”
How did one make an impression whenbarely a few words were spoken and her outing had only lasted allof sixty minutes in a room full of at least one hundred people? Hermother was daft.
“Go upstairs and changeinto a morning gown, and have Beatrice do something with that hairof yours. Then you may visit with your brother and that wife ofhis.”
Moira resisted the urge to roll hereyes, but she turned to do as her mother bade. Thank
