Chapter Ten
Mari nearly bounced in delight as she stepped down from the carriage in front of the Theatre Royal on Drury Lane.
Aunt Agnes frowning at her made her remember decorum reigned this evening.
Still, it was terribly exciting to be entering such a magnificent building that hosted so many cultural events.
Smoothing the lines of the blue silk gown Madam Dubois had managed to finish in record time, Mari glanced up at Nicholas.
He was ever so elegant in his formal black coattails with satin lapels, silver-threaded waistcoat and lavender cravat tied in the rather scandalous Napoleon knot.
The cloth only wound about the neck once, giving the wearer a leisurely, rakish look.
Coupled with the slight slant of his green eyes, he did indeed look somewhat amorous.
“I am so glad you were able to secure tickets for the Beethoven recital,” Mari said as they moved to take their place in line.
Nicholas gave a slight bow. “My pleasure, to be sure. A lady as beautiful as you deserves to be surrounded by only the best Society has to offer. I intend to see that you experience it all.”
Behind them, Jamie cleared his throat.
Drat. In her excitement, Mari had almost forgotten that Jamie and Maddie had followed in a second carriage, along with Maddie’s parents.
She remembered Jamie’s glower when the invitation arrived from Nicholas three days ago—and then the smugness of Jamie’s smile when he’d produced four tickets of his own.
She wasn’t quite sure how he’d done that.
“I understand the pianist this evening actually studied with the maestro in Vienna,” Nicholas said as the line moved forward.
“Oooh,” Maddie squealed. “Wasn’t Vienna once ruled by Charlemagne’s knights? How romantic.”
Nicholas frowned. “I had not heard that. Actually, the romantic movement in music and art is more about individual freedom and personal expression than it is about the medieval connotation of sentimentality.” He turned toward Mari.
“My own painting reflects the current tendency to include pastoral scenes in the background as a way to counter the rigidness of the classical works.” He leaned closer to her.
“You will see,” he finished in a near whisper, “when I decide which country scene to use to paint you.”
Mari felt herself blush. Whether Nicholas thought it was romantic or not, she felt like a princess having her portrait painted. She could hardly wait to find out what kind of country spot he would choose.
Nicholas offered her his arm as they made their way to the box seats along the right side of the balcony. His forearm did not feel as hard and massive as Jamie’s, but then Nicholas did not go slinging a huge sword like Jamie waved around.
Nicholas was a true gentleman, although Mari had to admit Jamie looked rather respectable this evening as well. She stole a glance over her shoulder. Maddie was smiling at Jamie, her eyes sparkling, her hand tucked inside his elbow. Mari knit her brows momentarily and then smiled at her friend.
“I am so glad you were able to come, Maddie.”
“I am too,” Maddie replied, barely taking her eyes off Jamie. “It was so kind of Mr. MacLeod to invite us.”
“I quite concur,” Lady Dunster said, looking almost as pleased as her daughter. “I usually have to drag the baron to these things.”
Her husband guffawed. “Now, dear, you know I would rather be in the country enticing a fish onto my hook.”
“Aye,” Jamie said. “Sittin’ by a loch with a line in gives a mon time to think.”
“That it does,” Baron Dunster agreed. “I say, perhaps we could do a spot of fishing in the Kennet once Parliament adjourns and we can all return to the peace and quiet of our estates.”
“’Twould be a pleasure.”
“I will look forward to it then.” Maddie’s father nearly beamed at Jamie. “I would enjoy hearing about that sea monster that dwells in one of your lochs as well.”
Jamie laughed. “Well, Nessie is a wee bit shy, but then, ’tis the way of kelpies.”
“What is a kelpie?” Maddie asked.
“’Tis a faerie horse who lives in the water,” Jamie replied. “It allows fair maidens to ride its back as it swims through the waves.”
“Mon Dieu! Quelque stupide,” Nicholas muttered.
Jamie continued on. “’Tis said, though, the kelpie have nae liking for arrogance. A mon who dinnae believe disappears into the black depths of the loch.”
Mari stifled a laugh. Jamie talking about arrogant men was pure irony, although she was sure he did not see it. More than likely, it was a dig at Nicholas for saying the little story was stupid.
“Oooh,” Maddie squeaked. “Is the story true?”
The story actually sounded credible the way he told it, Mari thought.
“Mon Dieu,” Nicholas said again.
Jamie ignored him, fixing his golden eyes on Mari before turning back to Maddie. “Aye, lass. All the faeries ask is that ye believe.”
Curled up once more on the window seat in Mari’s bedchamber the next day, Maddie hugged her knees. “Did you know the MacLeods have an actual faerie flag?”
Mari smiled at her. “I think you take Jamie much too seriously. Faeries do not really exist.”
“Maybe not, but there is a flag. Mr. MacLeod says it is quite old, of yellow silk and kept at Dunvegan Castle on Skye.”
“Probably a flag used in some early battle. Those northern isles were invaded by Vikings, for goodness’ sake. Highlanders have been feuding for centuries.”
Maddie shook her head. “According to the legend, the MacLeod chief met a faerie with whom he fell in love. The King of the Faeries only allowed the maiden to spend one year in the human world. During that time, she and the MacLeod chief had a son. When it came time for her to return to the realm of faerie, she left her faerie shawl with the baby to protect him and the clan as well. If ever the clan had need, they would wave the flag three times and the Knights of the Faerie Raide would ride to their rescue.” Maddie stopped as if remembering the rest. “Mr. MacLeod said it could only be used three times and has been used twice—once when Clan Donald besieged the MacLeods, and another time when a terrible plague nearly killed all the cattle, leaving the clan to starve. There is still one wish left.”
“Jamie certainly tells a fine tale,” Mari said drily.
Maddie turned to watch Jamie practicing swordplay in the small courtyard below, a dreamy expression in her eyes. “Mr. MacLeod makes it look so effortless. I can almost see him as one of King Arthur’s knights.”
Mari made an unladylike snort and moved to look over her friend’s shoulder at the scene below.
Jamie was putting both Joseph and Robin through their paces, side-stepping and circling like a wolf playing with its prey.
The young footmen were red-faced, although whether from embarrassment or the exertion of jumping away from Jamie’s sword, she didn’t know.
She watched as Robin lunged at the same time Joseph attempted a cut to the left.
Jamie parried and spun, knocking the sword from Robin’s hand and stopping with his sword pointed at Robin’s throat.
Robin’s face blanched, and Jamie lowered the sword.
Mari did have to admit there was a certain grace to Jamie’s movements.
“I would wager Mr. MacLeod will be an excellent dancer,” Maddie said as he walked away from the footmen and she turned back to Mari. “Have you taken him to Miss Berry’s dance studio yet?”
“Not yet, although I suppose I should. If the girls would get him to sign their dance cards, he would be kept busy instead of hovering over me.”
Maddie gave Mari a strange look. “You really want Mr. MacLeod to take an interest in the other girls?”
“Of course. How else will I ever be able to be alone with Nicholas?”
“Your aunt would not allow that, Marissa Barclay, and you know it.”
“Well, maybe not completely alone, but you have to admit Jamie hulking over my shoulder does put a damper on things. Nicholas and I barely had a conversation last night.”
“Mama thinks Mr. MacLeod is a nice man.”
Mari groaned inwardly. Jamie had managed to win over yet another woman.
How did he manage to do so? Of course, he didn’t persist in following anyone else around, managing to interject his opinions and give orders like he did to her.
“Nice? I suppose if you have not seen his annoying side, you might think so.”
Maddie was quiet for a moment. “You really do not like Mr. MacLeod?” she finally asked.
“I—” Mari stopped to consider. “It is not that I do not like him. I do not like him ordering me about and telling me what I can—or cannot—do. Neither do I like the fact that he believes in violence. To Jamie, things get settled with a weapon or fists. You know how I feel about men who use brute force. I never want to have the encounters Jillian had to endure.”
Maddie grimaced. “The old marquess was horrible. Rumors abounded about what happened to his first wife. You cannot truly believe Mr. MacLeod would strike you?”
“No.” Mari remembered how light Jamie’s touch had been when he’d wiped away her tears while they were at Newburn, and how gentle his hand had been when he made her eat. “No, I do not think he would. He is just not a refined, elegant gentleman like Nicholas.”
“What is really important to you?” Maddie asked. “How does Nicholas make you feel?”
Feel. Mari frowned slightly. She had not felt anything when she laid her hand on Nicholas’s arm last night, nor had her butterflies fluttered the one time he’d managed to brush his thigh against her skirts before Jamie leaned forward to ask a question, forcing Nicholas to move back.
Jamie’s breath on her nape had made her skin tingle and sent a delightful shiver down her spine.
Gads. How could she be so physically attracted to a man whose core beliefs about violence were so opposite of hers?
She was so confused.