She eyed him and bit her lower lip. Then she frowned and dipped her pen into the inkwell, writing furiously.
Aye, it wasn’t right for a man to finish his wine in one gulp. Even so, he couldn’t deny the urge to tease her. He reached for the decanter and poured himself another glass. There was a pained look in her river-green eyes, and she bit her lip, drawing his attention to its fullness. She was a bonny lass, indeed. Whether she knew it or not, Miss Goodson was a danger to herself. She might be posing as a governess, but this young lady was a walking temptation.
‘Would you be wanting some wine?’ he offered, holding out the decanter.
‘No, thank you. I do not partake in spirits,’ she answered. ‘And next time, you should ask your butler to pour the wine. Or a footman.’ She dipped her pen in the inkwell and wrote a few more sentences on the scrap of paper.
‘If I waited for them, we’d have no food,’ he pointed out. ‘They’re no’ exactly making haste to get here.’
‘Be that as it may, if you are a guest at a supper party, wait for the servants to pour the wine.’
A few minutes later, Alban brought out the next course. It was a mutton pie, and Lachlan cut into it with his fork, while steam rose from the pastry crust. Miss Goodson was still writing furiously, in between bites of her own meal. What could she be worked up about now? He’d done nothing wrong.
Finally, she set down her pen and took a sip of water from her glass. ‘How long ago was this marriage arranged with Lady Regina?’
He stabbed the crust with his fork and brought up a bit of mutton and gravy. ‘Our fathers went to school together and were good friends. They spoke of it for years, though ’twas only in jest. After my father died two years ago, Havershire wanted to fulfil Tavin’s wish. We set the wedding date for this May.’
At that, she set down her fork. ‘Without asking Lady Regina? And you haven’t seen her in ten years?’ Her expression was aghast.
‘Nay. But she’s an obedient lass.’
Miss Goodson took a bite of her mutton pie, but he could see her thoughts turning over the matter. ‘Why would you agree to marry a woman you haven’t seen in that long?’
Because it had been his father’s greatest wish. Lachlan had wanted to give that gift to Tavin, even if he hadn’t been able to save his life. A dark twist of guilt rose at the memory, prickled with grief. He didn’t want to marry anyone, and he knew he was hardly a fit candidate for a husband. Lady Regina would be horrified by the sight of his scarred face. But if he fulfilled his father’s last desire, at least it was one thing he could do for the man.
‘As I said before, Lord Havershire and my father wanted to unite our families together.’
‘Even so, why would you agree to wed her without meeting her first?’ Miss Goodson enquired. ‘You might not like her any more.’
‘I like the twenty thousand pounds her father has promised.’ Lady Regina’s dowry was money he needed, because repairing a five-hundred-year-old castle was costly. The offer of marriage was a welcome means of absolving him from financial ruin, for he hadn’t realised how deeply Tavin MacKinloch had fallen into debt. Lachlan had already cut back on as many expenses as possible, but he didn’t want to dismiss any of his staff. They needed their wages, and he’d do whatever he had to if it meant protecting his clansmen.
‘That is a great deal of money,’ she agreed. ‘But I don’t understand why Lord Havershire would offer so much.’ She set her fork down and pondered a moment. ‘Lady Regina has plenty of suitors. She simply turns them all away.’
‘Because she’s promised to me,’ he countered.
‘She doesn’t want to marry anyone,’ Miss Goodson predicted. ‘I have met her on several occasions. They call her the Lady of Ice.’
Lachlan didn’t concern himself with his fiancée’s reluctance. There was no reason for her to raise objections to the marriage—particularly since he intended to let her live her life as she chose.
‘Lady Regina values a gentleman with manners,’ Miss Goodson warned. ‘If you wish to marry her, you will need to make a good impression. I could help you with this.’
‘I’ve no need of your help.’
But the young woman ignored him and held out her list. ‘I’ve written down possible lessons for you. Dining, dancing, conversation, and so on.’
Dancing? Lachlan despised dancing, and he would never engage in such a pastime. ‘I won’t be dancing, Miss Goodson.’ He loathed the very thought.
‘Oh, but you must. At a ball, you will be required to dance with Lady Regina. Only once, of course, but it is necessary to making a good impression upon her.’
Lachlan would rather cut off his thumbs than dance in public. ‘I willna make a fool of myself.’
‘Of course not,’ Miss Goodson answered. ‘I will ensure that you are well prepared. And you may find that you enjoy dancing. It can be delightful.’
‘You won’t be here to give any lessons,’ he reminded her. ‘The coach will be here first thing in the morning.’
‘But I just thought that—’
‘You’ll find another position,’ he said. The last thing he wanted was a woman staring at him and making lists. ‘I don’t need you. I don’t want you here.’
She grew quiet, and the melancholy on her face made him feel like he’d just killed her cat. It took an effort to stop from apologising, though he hadn’t been the one to hire her. This was all due to his mother’s meddling.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. Her river-green eyes gleamed with unshed tears. ‘It’s just that, I had such hopes.’
‘Go home, Miss Goodson. Your family can take care of you now.’
She shook her head, gripping her napkin. ‘I cannot go back to them.’
‘Why?’ He levelled a hard stare at her.
Her expression grew strained, as if she didn’t want to speak of it. After a pause, she said, ‘It’s complicated.’
He could tell she was trying to avoid the topic by any means necessary. But her past intrigued him, and he pressed further. ‘Are they cruel to you? Or violent?’
She shook her head but kept silent. He found himself wanting to know more, despite her reluctance. At last, he offered, ‘If you tell me the truth about why you don’t want to return home, I will grant you a second day here.’
Hope dawned in her green eyes, and her mouth softened, almost in a smile. She said, ‘As you guessed earlier, I wasn’t always a governess. My father was a baron.’
‘Then why would you seek employment?’
‘The desire to eat,’ she admitted. ‘My father disappeared one afternoon with his mistress. I never saw him again, and he left us destitute.’ She took a sip of water and said, ‘My sisters were already married, and I had no wish to be pitied and live with them. I had a good education, and so I decided to put it to use.’
‘What of your mother?’ he asked. ‘Why not go and live with her?’
Her expression tightened. ‘Suffice it to say, I preferred supporting myself without relying upon anyone else. I might have been arrested for murder, had I stayed with my mother.’
He could understand her desire for independence and respected it. If she were sent home, it would make her feel like a failure, though it was through no fault of her own.
‘One more day then,’ he repeated. ‘And I will have the coach take you wherever you wish to go, after that.’
She paused a moment and said,