bone china sparkled upon the long table covered by fine linen, silver, crystal and lit by candles in silver holders in the earl’s enormous dining room papered in burgundy and with mahogany wainscoting. Footmen stood ready to wait upon the lord and lady, with the butler to oversee them.
Esme, however, was blind to the glories of the expensive setting and scarcely tasted the excellent meal. She was discovering it wasn’t nearly as easy to pretend to be ignorant and silly as she’d supposed. Not only did she have to guard her tongue constantly, but wearing costly clothes like this beautiful, low-cut gown of emerald green silk was also a nerve-wracking torment. She worried she was going to spill wine or soup, a piece of sauced fish or roast beef, on it and ruin it.
It didn’t help that MacLachlann was revelling in the role as lord of the manor, while she was so constrained by hers as his ignorant, vapid wife.
Or that he looked even more handsome in evening dress. The cut of his black evening jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, while his tight-fitting knee breeches and stockings emphasized his leanly muscular legs.
“Yes, the finest gelding I think I’ve ever seen,” he said, referring to the saddle horse he’d bought in London with Jamie’s money and had sent to Edinburgh, as if there weren’t any good horses in Scotland.
She mentally shuddered as she considered how much such an animal and its transportation must have cost.
“Should bring a tidy profit if I ever decide to sell it,” he noted.
Was he telling her that would be the horse’s fate when their task was complete? “You’d sell it?”
“Of course. If I could get the right price, I’d sell it tomorrow.”
So, he didn’t intend to keep it—thank goodness.
“I should be able to get a damn good price for it here. There’s no finer beast in Edinburgh—probably all of Scotland. I trust your mare will be just as fine.”
Esme nearly dropped her sterling silver fork. “You bought two horses?”
Then she remembered she was supposed to be dim, so she added a giggle and widened her eyes. “You don’t mean you bought a horse for me? I don’t ride.”
That was quite true. When she’d been growing up in the Highlands, they hadn’t been able to afford a horse. Jamie had learned to ride later; she never had.
MacLachlann laughed, and this time she did not find the sound of it nearly so appealing. “Well, now that we’re home, you’ll have to learn.”
If ever there was a time to be vapid … She clasped her hands together like a penitent supplicant. “But, Ducky, horses are so big and prancy, I’m sure I’ll fall. You wouldn’t want your dearest love to hurt herself, would you? And you wouldn’t make me do something I really don’t want to do, would you?”
He looked mildly annoyed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a horse.”
Undeterred, Esme put her napkin to her eye and sniffled as if she were weeping. “Is Ducky going to be cruel to his dearest, sweetest love?”
MacLachlann scowled as he reached for his cut-crystal goblet of excellent red wine. “If you really don’t want to ride, very well, don’t.”
“And you’ll sell the mare?”
His frown deepened for a moment, then it was as if he’d suddenly seen an angelic vision. “I should be able to make an even better profit on it,” he declared with obvious satisfaction, “so yes, I’ll sell the mare.”
A predatory gleam came to MacLachlann’s blue eyes. “Dry your tears, my sweet, and come give your husband a kiss.”
With the servants in the room, what could she do except obey? So she did, keeping her eyes demurely lowered and sliding an apparently bashful glance at the nearest footman before she gave MacLachlann a peck on the cheek.
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