Secrets to Seducing a Scot

SIX

Though the long trip from London had been arduous, Serena and Earlington received a warm welcome when they arrived at Copperleaf Manor.

Their hosts, Lord and Lady Askey, were as pleasant and hospitable as Serena could expect. Though he was English by birth, Lord Askey’s family had held lands in Scotland for generations, and he spent a great deal of his time there. He loved Scotland and its people, but he was a loyalist and he advocated a unified Britain. Politically, he was the perfect man to host Commissioner Marsh, being so well liked among the Scots. And personally, he and his wife made every effort to ensure that Serena and her father felt at home.

Josiah Askey was a man of fifty whose graying hair seemed to have melted from the top of his head to the sides of his face. He had a jolly air to him, and when he smiled his eyes became little blue crescents. Comfortable living had given him a paunch, but he was yet a man of unbounded energy.

His first wife had died of the fever, but she had given him two daughters: Lady Georgina, who had married the year before to a young man of means in Dumfries, and Lady Zoe, who was only fourteen. Although Serena was homesick for London, Zoe’s youthful zest and irrepressible friendliness made the separation easier to bear.

Rachel Askey, his young wife, was only slightly older than Serena, but her May–December marriage seemed to have been made in heaven. Rachel Askey was a Scot from a noble family. She had a creamy complexion and strawberry freckles on her face that matched the rosy tones in her lovely hair. Recently delivered of an infant daughter, she was never seen without her nearby. She was bright in face and mind, and her kindness drew in the young Zoe, who embraced her as an older sister rather than as a stepmother. They were a warm family, and tried very hard to make Serena feel at home.

But home was back in London. Serena made every attempt to keep her chin up for the family’s benefit, but she was secretly very unhappy. Being away from the City—at the very height of the Season—was a misery. At this very hour, she’d probably be climbing into a carriage, en route to a ball. She’d be wearing her new cornflowerblue confection with her pearl necklace and her white silk gloves, and her hair would be done up à la cascade with blue ribbons interwoven through the curls. It was a fashion she was looking forward to showing off. Her styles were always talked about and emulated.

She’d be drinking champagne and dining on lobster, Cornish hens, and vegetables in heavy French sauces. She’d be surrounded by peers, politicians, and playwrights—men of ideas and influence—and ladies who drove the culture of the day. She’d attend the theater, Almack’s, museums. There’d be lawn tennis, picnics, card parties, and dancing. There’d be no end to her laughter and her discourse.

Until Scotland.

Zoe came in through the open drawing room door, munching on an apple. Her reddish brown hair streamed down her back. “The sun has come out. Would you like to go riding today?”

Writing was what Serena really hungered to do, and the activity she missed the most. But she didn’t want to be a misery around the girl. “Certainly. Though I must warn you that I haven’t had a chance to buy a riding habit this season, so please don’t gasp in horror when you see me in last year’s style.”

Zoe rolled her pretty brown eyes. “Once we leave the stable, it wouldn’t matter if you rode completely unclothed. There’s no one to see you for miles.”

Serena smiled, but there was no mirth behind it. She closed the book she was reading. “Zoe, I’m really grateful to your father and stepmother for sharing their home with us. And staying in Fort Augustus has been most restful. But sometimes I wonder if it doesn’t get rather lonely here for you. Is there no set to which you belong, no place for you to enjoy the company of others your own age?”

Zoe sat next to Serena. “Of course! Sometimes I’ll drive down to Dumfries and stay with my sister and her husband. Or we’ll drive to Glasgow and stay with my cousins. They’ve just had their coming out.”

Serena blinked, trying to phrase her question better. “What I mean is, is there anything for you to do that doesn’t require two days’ journey and several changes of horses? A party or ball to go to, at least once a week? Somewhere where there’s food and entertainment, and lots and lots of people? Where you can see what ladies and gentlemen are wearing, and where you can show off your latest design, too? A place where people of all sorts get together, and they talk about things that matter … or things that matter just to them? Where people whisper their dastardly little secrets, and other people whisper them over to the next person? Fun places like that?”

“Well,” Zoe began, “in the fall, when we return to York, we reunite with our friends by organizing an autumn ball.”

“In the fall,” Serena repeated with an edge to her voice. “And meanwhile? What will you do here in Scotland during these interminable summer months?”

“Um … well, there will be the Saint Swithin’s Day Festival in Invergarry next month. That’s a great deal of fun, with lots of people. The Highland Games will be held then … apple juggling, caber tossing, and beer-cask rolling. And you can get all sorts of delicious sweets at the festival. That is, of course, provided there’s no uprising to cancel it.”

Next month? Serena smoothed out an invisible wrinkle in her new silk dress. There was no way she was going to endure another month without the distraction of a social gathering. It was bad enough that she was far removed from the thrilling bustle of London, but to have to wait another month for the relative excitement of apple throwing, caber eating, and beer bathing was just too much to endure. She had to do something about this.

She had to do something now.