He must never learn that you are mine, warned Moray in her memory, and she slipped the chain off with reluctance. ‘Here,’ she said to Kirsty, handing her the ring.
‘I’ll guard it well.’
Sophia knew that. But she would have given much to feel the comfort of that ring against her heart to give her courage as she carefully descended to the drawing room to greet the Duke of Hamilton.
‘Your Grace.’ Was that her voice, she wondered, sounding so composed? ‘You do us honor with your visit.’
He looked much the same as she remembered—the elegant clothes, and the curled black wig styled in the full height of fashion to fall past his shoulders. But she fancied the still-handsome features had hardened to something less pleasant in places, a self-serving mask that he wore to a purpose. His eyes, although languid, were watchful and noticing. In but the space of a breath they had taken her measure. The duke gave a bow. Raised her hand to his lips.
‘Mistress Paterson. The honor is all mine, I can assure you.’ His smile, as charming as before, was meant to put her at her ease. ‘I must say, living here at Slains does appear to agree with you. You are more lovely even than I did remember.’
‘You are kind.’ Politely, she reclaimed her hand, and took a seat so he would do the same. She found it easier, to face him sitting down.
‘I’m told the countess and her son are not at home?’ His tone was casual, but underneath Sophia thought she sensed a probing pause that she was meant to fill. She filled it cautiously, her own voice light.
‘They are expected back at any moment.’ Then, to turn the tables, she said, ‘You will stay, I hope, until they do arrive? They would be, I know, most sorry to return and find they’d missed you, and would surely have not ventured from the house if we had known that you were coming.’
There, she thought. Let him explain his visit, and the reason he’d come all this way without first sending word. If what the countess thought was true, he’d likely come to spy on them, and gain his own intelligence on what was being done at Slains in preparation for the king’s arrival. If that was so, Sophia thought, then he must now be thinking himself fortunate to find, in place of the more suspicious countess and the forceful young earl, a mere girl, on her own and—to his mind—a lamb to be easily led.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I do regret I am come unannounced, but till today I did not know my business would compel me so far north. I thought only to pay my respects, I’ll not trouble the family by staying. No doubt they’ve had enough guests, lately.’
She saw it for herself, that time—the briefest flash behind his smiling eyes, but still she saw it, and knew she had done right to treat him warily. ‘No guests as gracious as yourself,’ was how she stepped around the trap. And then she asked, as any young and guileless girl might ask, what news there was from Edinburgh, what gossip from the English court, and what the latest changes were in fashion.
Their conversation was a sort of dance, she thought, with complicated steps, but as the time wore on she grew to know the way of it, and when to step, and when to twirl, and when to simply stand and wait.
He led with skill, not asking questions outright but arranging his own statements so that she would follow on with some small bit of information, but she kept her own wits sharp and always countered with a seemingly ingenuous response that gave him nothing in the way of satisfaction.
She felt sure he did not know she was doing it deliberately—the duke was not the sort of man to credit someone like herself with that kind of ability—but still, throughout the afternoon his speech took on a faint edge of frustration, as a man might feel who tries to do a simple task and finds himself confounded.
Yet he did not leave, not even after four o’clock had come and they’d been brought the usual refreshments for that hour of wine and ale, and little cakes in place of bread today because there was a visitor. Sophia had thought, after that, the duke would surely take his leave and carry on his way to where he meant to spend the night, but he did not. He only settled deeper in his chair, and spoke at greater length, with greater charm, to make the dance steps still more intricate.
Sophia matched the effort with her own, but found it tiring. By the time she heard the sound of steps and voices from the entry hall that told her that the countess and her son had finally come, Sophia’s mind was near exhaustion.
She was grateful when the countess, with her vibrant presence, swept into the drawing room. ‘Your Grace, this is an unexpected pleasure.’ From her easy smile one would have thought she meant it. ‘I confess that I did scarce believe the servants when they told me you were here. Have you been waiting long?’
‘I have been well attended,’ he assured her. He had risen from his chair to greet her, and now gave a nod towards Sophia. ‘Mistress Paterson and I have passed the time in conversation.’
The countess’s own glance at Sophia betrayed none of the concern she must have felt at that revelation. ‘Then I do not doubt that you have found her as delightful a companion as I do myself. Her presence in this house does daily bring me joy, especially since all my girls are married now, and gone from home.’ Returning her attention to the duke, she said, ‘You will stay the night?’
‘Well…’ He made a show of protestation.
‘Yes, of course you will. ’Tis nearly dusk, you cannot venture out upon the road so late.’
The Earl of Erroll, coming through the doorway of the drawing room, agreed. ‘We would not hear of it.’ He gave the duke a hearty greeting, proving that his acting skills were equal to his mother’s. ‘It has been some time since you were last here. Come, let me show you the improvements we are making to the house.’