The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“Oh, there’s a pretty red and gold shawl.” Nancy scuttled over to the chair and returned with the square of silk. “I don’t suppose it will keep out the cold, but it will complement your dark hair.”

The women fussed over her for another few minutes before escorting her down to the great hall.

The thud of Mackenzie’s boots, as he paced the flagstones, echoed through the dank corridor. He swung around upon hearing their approach and glared at Nancy. “Can you not tell the time, woman? You’re ten minutes late.”

“Oh, silly me,” Nancy retorted. “I forgot to check my pocket watch.”

Mackenzie tutted, but as his gaze fell to Lillian, he clutched his chest. “Praise be, you’re a sight to behold, lass.”

Nancy huffed. “You can’t be calling the mistress of the house lass.”

“Och, I mean no disrespect.” He bowed. “Forgive me, my lady, for my heathen ways. A lifetime aboard a ship can rid a man of all sense of propriety.”

“Don’t you mean it can rid a man of all sense?” Nancy said.

The other women grinned.

“You’re forgiven, Mackenzie,” Lillian said. His tone brimmed with warmth when he called her lass. There was something genuine and honest about him, dare she say trustworthy. “You may call me lass in private. When we’ve company, you’d best call me my lady.”

The man’s fiery beard twitched as he smiled and puffed his chest. “Thank you, my lady.”

“I trust his lordship is waiting at the church.” Lillian hadn’t spoken to Fabian since she’d agreed to marry him. He’d not bothered to inform her personally that she had but hours to prepare for the wedding, but instead had pushed a note under her door. She’d spent the night tossing and turning, mulling over her decision. Would she find the courage to make the declaration before God?

“His lordship is out riding, my lady, and has been gone all morning.” Mackenzie squirmed on the spot, and his cheeks flamed. “He’ll be here for the service. You can be sure of that.”

Would he? Fabian’s contempt for her family knew no bounds.

Lillian snorted in an attempt to ease the sharp stab in her chest. It was foolish to expect Fabian to show her the same consideration he had in his youth. Now he was a man of numerous identities: lord of the seas, a pirate, the Raven. The ceremony was a mere formality. A union of necessity. She’d spent the morning doing her utmost to look her best. No doubt Fabian would turn up splattered in mud, wearing the crumpled clothes he’d slept in the night before.

“Perhaps we should wait until his lordship returns.” Lillian feigned a smile. “I see little point riding to the church when in all likelihood he might change his mind.”

Mackenzie frowned. “When Lord Ravenscroft makes a promise, you can be certain he’ll keep it.” Admiration and respect filled the Scot’s voice. “His lordship will be at the church. I’ll stake my life on it.”

Mackenzie’s comment went some way to restoring her faith in Lord Ravenscroft. When a man commanded the respect of his people, he was obviously doing something right.

“Then you may escort me to my carriage,” Lillian said with a teasing grin.

“Carriage?” Mackenzie struggled to look her in the eye. “I’m afraid the best we can do is a horse and cart, my lady.”

Lillian did chuckle then. If she didn’t laugh, she might cry. “Do I get to ride up front or am I to sit with the turnips?”

“Come with me, my lady.” Mackenzie led them out into the bailey. “I’m happy to say there’s not a turnip in sight.”

“I think you’ll like what they’ve done,” Penny said, clapping her hands as she skipped at Lillian’s side. “My parents spent all morning getting it ready.”

The sight of the decorated cart brought them all to an abrupt halt. The smartly dressed man perched on the seat wore a green coat and top hat. Next to him, a red velvet cushion with gold tassels marked the spot where Lillian should sit. Thick swags of green foliage threaded with pink roses hung from the sides of the cart.

“It’s beautiful, Mackenzie.” Lillian looked up at him and offered a beaming grin.

“The Browns deserve the credit. I just told them to make it pretty.” Mackenzie walked over to the cart and held out his hand. “Let me help you, my lady. We’d best be on our way if we want to arrive on time.”

Lillian climbed up and sat on the padded cushion. The women were all set to wave her off until Mackenzie told them to remove their mobcaps and aprons and climb into the back of the cart.

A flurry of excitement erupted as the women set about straightening their hair and clothes. Penny rushed to fetch her mother, who appeared looking confused and dazed.

Once they were all inside the cart, it rattled out of the bailey, through the gatehouse and along a narrow road running parallel with the cliff edge. The sight of the sea had a calming effect, and the women’s raucous laughter proved infectious.

“Are you touching my leg, Malcolm Mackenzie?” Heather teased.