Chapter Twenty-Four
The carriage merged with a stream of conveyances rumbling over cobblestones. Hooves clip-clopped, horses snorted, and harnesses creaked. Snippets of conversation from people strolling by filtered through the open curtained windows.
Lachlan sat inside the plush compartment opposite Helene and her sister, Prudence, whom he’d met not an hour ago. She’d been flanked by Penforth and his son, each with a supporting hand under one elbow and upper arm in assisting her down the stairs.
She wore a gown of silk brocade in ivory, yellow, and green, and her dark hair, covered with a little lace cap, fell at her back in curls with a braid pinned to the head.
For all her fashionable finery, the lass lacked physical strength and looked poorly and pale.
Lachlan could only surmise her ill-fitting clothes were a result of her having lost weight.
Her eyes, a cloudy shade of green, had settled kindly on him when being formally introduced by her father.
Lachlan had respectfully greeted her with a low bow and engaged her in polite conversation.
Though he’d given Prudence his undivided attention, he’d been all too aware of Helene descending the stairs behind her family.
Being apart from her this afternoon had seemed like an eternity, especially after having spent so much time in each other’s company since their first meeting in Scotland.
He yearned to pull her into his arms, hold her tight, never again to leave her side.
Only now, inside the carriage, could he fully appraise Helene’s appearance.
She looked tired, drawn, and like Prudence, she’d dressed as befitting an earl’s daughter, in a steel-blue silk mantua with the lappets of her lace cap framing her face.
Her hair was dressed like her sister’s, and Lachlan marvelled at their similar features.
He assumed they resembled their mother in appearance, for neither of them had inherited their father’s likeness.
Time spent alone with Penforth and his son earlier today had given Lachlan the opportunity to stand firm and have his say, leaving the men in no doubt as to his feelings for Helene.
His declaration of love for her, and requesting her hand in marriage, had been met with utmost surprise.
While not accepted, neither was his proposal rejected.
To Lachlan’s chagrin, they’d outright refused his offer to care for Prudence at Drumocher.
When challenged, they’d apprised him of Prudence’s fast-deteriorating health and shared with him additional private information, recently come to light, about her childhood accident.
Little wonder the two men were contrite in their countenance towards Helene.
Though it had pained him to have left her with her father and brother this afternoon, he’d done so in firm belief of her safety.
Besides, some discussions were only to be had between family members.
Lachlan was not family, and in understanding that, he carried the burden of guilt for being privy to crucial facts that Helene had yet to learn from Prudence.
For better or worse, it would significantly impact the way Helene viewed the past, the present, and her future.
Distant jocularity, incongruent with the sombre mood inside the carriage, dragged Lachlan from his thoughts. His love for Helene deepened as he watched her lay, with meticulous care, a blanket across her sister’s lap.
Prudence broke the silence between them, her voice soft yet assertive. ‘My lord. I must admit to being a little disappointed.’
Her statement took Lachlan by surprise. ‘Disappointed? With what?’
‘You!’
Lachlan glanced at Helene. Her face fell, and the hand of failure squeezed his heart. Disappointing Prudence was to disappoint Helene. Something he wished to avoid at all costs.
‘I’m verra sorry if I’m a disappointment to ye, Lady Prudence. Please do tell me in what way I’ve let ye down, and I’ll do my verra best to make amends.’
She swept a critical eye over him. ‘Well, I had hoped to see you dressed as a Highlander, kilt, broadsword, and all. Yet here you are, elegantly dressed in a grey wool coat with narrowed sleeve cuffs, matching breeches, and a white silk waistcoat.’
An unsteady slim finger pointed to his wrists. ‘I’m sure cotton ruffled shirt cuffs are not the order of the day when traversing the Highlands on horseback.’ She glanced down. ‘Nor would be white silk stockings and black shoes with small silver buckles.’
Her frown deepened when she glanced up. ‘And your hair! I’d imagined a wild, windswept look, not neatly tied back at the nape of your neck with a black ribbon. You are ruggedly handsome, indeed, but where is the barbaric clansmen I had hoped to meet?’
Her words of reproof rendered Lachlan absurdly speechless, his mind a complete blank. He blinked, unable to trust himself to string a coherent sentence together, let alone vocalise the words even if he knew what to say. He chanced a look at Helene, who looked as perplexed as he.
Prudence flicked her gaze between Helene and Lachlan.
From one instant to the next, she burst into fits of laughter.
‘Forgive me for teasing you. I only meant to lighten the mood between us so that we might relax in each other’s company.
If you could see your own face right now!
’ She clutched her belly as another trill of laughter escaped her.
Helene pressed a hand to her chest and laughed with what sounded like equal parts shock and relief. At the same time, Lachlan’s shoulders shook with amusement before the rumbling in his chest morphed into deep, resonant laughter.
Prudence had taken him and Helene by surprise, and though her comic ruse was at their expense, she’d created a moment amidst great solemnity whereby laughter was especially welcome. Seeing the sisters laugh together was a joy to behold. The memory would stay with him.
Prudence struggled to catch her breath when her laughter subsided. Helene was swift to react. She reached into her reticule, produced a small flask, and held it to her sister’s mouth. ‘Sip slowly.’
Lachlan caught the scent of the familiar medicinal brew. ‘Is that made from Mairi’s herbs?’
‘Yes, it’s a relaxant.’
The elixir took immediate effect, and Lachlan made a mental note to personally thank and commend Mairi when he returned to Scotland.
‘My lord?’ said Prudence in a weak voice.
‘Please, do call me Lachlan.’
Prudence smiled. ‘Lachlan, you do not disappoint me in the least. In fact, quite the opposite.’ She paused for a few breaths. ‘Thank you for bringing my sister home to me.’ She took hold of Helene’s hand. ‘I could not have been blessed with a greater gift.’
‘Yer sister is indeed a treasure, and one I’m most reluctant to relinquish.’
Prudence’s eyes widened when she looked sidelong at Helene. ‘Dear sister! You blush.’
Helene used her hand to fan her face. ‘Blush? You’re mistaken! If my cheeks are flushed, it’s because this summer evening is insufferably warm, as is this gown.’ She hid her face by turning away to stare out the window.
Lachlan could not take his eyes off Helene, pleased his compliment had brought colour to her cheeks.
When he glanced back at Prudence, it was to find her making a quiet study of him.
She raised a brow, gave him a knowing smile, and then discreetly inclined her head in recognition of him having feelings for her sister.
Christ! Was it so blatantly obvious that he was enamoured with Helene, or was it that Prudence, despite her frailty, was not only witty but also possessed a sharp mind?
Lachlan answered Prudence’s questions about his homeland, its history, and its people during their journey to Spring Hill.
On arrival, he spread blankets and cushions on the ground and placed several oil lanterns at the periphery.
He assisted in comfortably seating Helene and her sister, whereupon he sat down to unpack and enjoy with them a sumptuous supper.
Helene took the lead in conversation, and it warmed Lachlan’s heart to hear her speak fondly of his sister and mother, of Donnie, Aila and Ross, Greer and Mairi.
She gave animated descriptions of woodlands and lochs, wildlife, and the shielings.
Thankfully, the only danger recounted was her brush with death, first with the cattle stampede and then her near-drowning in the river.
‘If not for Donnie shoving me into the water,’ she explained, ‘I’d have been trampled beneath a herd of Highland cows, and it was Lachlan who rescued Donnie and myself from the raging river.’
It was at this point in Helene’s account of her adventures that Prudence leaned forward to lay her hand on Lachlan’s sleeve. ‘Who better to watch over and care for my sister than you and your clan?’
Prudence fixed him with a level gaze, and Lachlan had the distinct impression she’d chosen those words to convey a message stronger than her grasp on his arm.
‘The light is fading fast, and the sun has almost set,’ she said. ‘Lachlan, would you be so kind as to give me a moment alone with my sister?’
Prudence’s faltering smile worried Lachlan. ‘Aye. Of course. Give me a shout when ye’re both ready to leave.’
He stood, bowing slow and deep. As he straightened, he glanced at Helene, her expression pensive. He picked up one of the blankets and draped it about the sisters’ shoulders.
‘Thank you,’ the sisters said in unison.
‘Aye.’
Lachlan backed away and headed towards the lantern-lit carriage.
He stopped and turned around, within clear sight of the sisters, yet respectfully out of earshot.
The air was still, and fading light had long since triggered nighttime songsters like the bubbling exuberance of a nightingale, churring nightjars, and ever-present robins with their sweet, melodic war cry.