The Untamed MacKenzie
Page 27
“Or maybe punched you in the face,” Daniel continued, casting a critical eye over Fellows’ bruises. “I take it the other bloke looks worse?”
Fellows’ gaze went back to Louisa. “The other bloke is in Newgate awaiting trial. And, yes, he looks worse.”
Daniel chuckled. “Good for you. A villain, is he?”
“One of the worst. Don’t waste sympathy on him.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Daniel turned to look where Fellows’ attention had been dragged. “Ah. That explains the gut blow.”
Fellows wrenched his gaze away from Louisa again. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“I’m not a fool, Uncle. Our Louisa is beautiful. Why wouldn’t you fall for her?”
In all his life, Fellows had never considered marrying, no matter how many dalliances or flirtations he’d had. He’d assumed himself too buried in his work, too ruthless and suspicious, or simply not interested in marriage. He’d never seen a good example of it, had he? He’d spent his childhood wishing he belonged to a family who’d made it clear he wasn’t wanted. He’d grown up with a mother angry at a rich man who’d charmed her, used her, and cast her aside.
None of that had relevance now. As Fellows looked at Louisa, he knew why he’d never married. He’d been waiting for her. And now she danced and laughed with a young man of her class who held her admiration.
“She’s not exactly our Louisa,” Fellows said. “Yours, maybe.”
He felt Daniel studying him. His irritation rose. Daniel gave him a knowing, and also sympathetic, grin. “Ask her to dance,” Daniel said.
“I don’t dance.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Never had a dancing master.”
“I advise you to learn. Ladies love a gentleman who can spin them about the floor. Once they know you can dance, they’ll follow you anywhere.”
“You speak from experience?”
“Aye, that I do.”
None of the Mackenzie men had ever had trouble attracting women, and Daniel, despite his youth, was no different. The ladies here, of his age and a few years older, were eyeing him with interest. Daniel was young, virile, handsome, and rich. He would come into the money left to him in trust by his mother when he was twenty-one, and would inherit everything Cameron had at Cameron’s death. Then he’d be a wealthy man indeed, and powerful. The fact that he stood a few steps removed from a dukedom only added to his desirability.
“Watch yourself,” Fellows advised. “One of these hopeful mamas will have you in the noose before you know it, if you’re not careful.”
“I’m always careful,” Daniel said, speaking with confidence above his years. “But the matrons have started flinging the debutantes at me, haven’t they? Some of these girls are barely out of the schoolroom. They should still be in short skirts and pigtails.”
“That’s aristos for you. Marry young, repent for many years to come.”
“And put seventeen heirs in the nursery while you’re at it,” Daniel finished. “Cynical, Uncle. Whatever happened to true love?”
“Love is for the middle class,” Fellows said. “The poor can’t afford it, and neither can the rich.”
“A sad thing to say, but probably true. These mamas who are eyeing me like sharks would be devastated to know I don’t plan to marry for many years. First, I’m going to travel the wide earth, and then learn how to build all the machines I have in my mind. The world’s on the brink of great change. Many people fear the change, but I want to be at its forefront, looking down its throat.”
“The enthusiasm of the young,” Fellows said.
“Not only the young. I know plenty of older chaps ready to face it with me. Now if I can ever find a lady like that—she’s who I’d marry.”
Fellows had already returned to watching Louisa. “Perhaps you and Louisa should make a match of it.”
Daniel’s attention came back from his future, and he bent his shrewd stare on his uncle. “Louisa and I have become great friends,” he said, as though choosing his words with care. “But no. I don’t believe we would suit.”
“Maybe not now. In a few years, though . . .”
“No. I’m thinking that in a few years, she won’t still be waiting.”
Daniel was right. Louisa shone with brilliance. She was kind, warmhearted, and stronger than she understood. As soon as Fellows proved her innocence and all this blew over, Louisa would be snapped up by any of a string of eligible bachelors. The newspapers would make much of the marriage between the earl’s daughter and some sprig of aristocracy. She’d marry in glory, and then be gone. She might greet Fellows at family parties, but Louisa would have her own life, no longer connected with his.
Louisa and her partner whirled closer to the corner in which Fellows and Daniel stood. Daniel lifted his whiskey glass in salute. Louisa smiled back at him, then her gaze landed on Fellows.
Her smile vanished, and the light drained from her face as though someone had extinguished a lamp. She stumbled. The gentleman with her caught her, so smoothly no one but Fellows and Daniel saw the near fall.
The gentleman said something to her, and Louisa laughed. The light returned, she spun away from Fellows, and resumed the dance.
Fellows felt as though someone had crushed all the air out of him. He might as well be lying at the bottom of a pile of bricks, with no hope of clawing his way out.
Fellows’ gaze went back to Louisa. “The other bloke is in Newgate awaiting trial. And, yes, he looks worse.”
Daniel chuckled. “Good for you. A villain, is he?”
“One of the worst. Don’t waste sympathy on him.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Daniel turned to look where Fellows’ attention had been dragged. “Ah. That explains the gut blow.”
Fellows wrenched his gaze away from Louisa again. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“I’m not a fool, Uncle. Our Louisa is beautiful. Why wouldn’t you fall for her?”
In all his life, Fellows had never considered marrying, no matter how many dalliances or flirtations he’d had. He’d assumed himself too buried in his work, too ruthless and suspicious, or simply not interested in marriage. He’d never seen a good example of it, had he? He’d spent his childhood wishing he belonged to a family who’d made it clear he wasn’t wanted. He’d grown up with a mother angry at a rich man who’d charmed her, used her, and cast her aside.
None of that had relevance now. As Fellows looked at Louisa, he knew why he’d never married. He’d been waiting for her. And now she danced and laughed with a young man of her class who held her admiration.
“She’s not exactly our Louisa,” Fellows said. “Yours, maybe.”
He felt Daniel studying him. His irritation rose. Daniel gave him a knowing, and also sympathetic, grin. “Ask her to dance,” Daniel said.
“I don’t dance.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Never had a dancing master.”
“I advise you to learn. Ladies love a gentleman who can spin them about the floor. Once they know you can dance, they’ll follow you anywhere.”
“You speak from experience?”
“Aye, that I do.”
None of the Mackenzie men had ever had trouble attracting women, and Daniel, despite his youth, was no different. The ladies here, of his age and a few years older, were eyeing him with interest. Daniel was young, virile, handsome, and rich. He would come into the money left to him in trust by his mother when he was twenty-one, and would inherit everything Cameron had at Cameron’s death. Then he’d be a wealthy man indeed, and powerful. The fact that he stood a few steps removed from a dukedom only added to his desirability.
“Watch yourself,” Fellows advised. “One of these hopeful mamas will have you in the noose before you know it, if you’re not careful.”
“I’m always careful,” Daniel said, speaking with confidence above his years. “But the matrons have started flinging the debutantes at me, haven’t they? Some of these girls are barely out of the schoolroom. They should still be in short skirts and pigtails.”
“That’s aristos for you. Marry young, repent for many years to come.”
“And put seventeen heirs in the nursery while you’re at it,” Daniel finished. “Cynical, Uncle. Whatever happened to true love?”
“Love is for the middle class,” Fellows said. “The poor can’t afford it, and neither can the rich.”
“A sad thing to say, but probably true. These mamas who are eyeing me like sharks would be devastated to know I don’t plan to marry for many years. First, I’m going to travel the wide earth, and then learn how to build all the machines I have in my mind. The world’s on the brink of great change. Many people fear the change, but I want to be at its forefront, looking down its throat.”
“The enthusiasm of the young,” Fellows said.
“Not only the young. I know plenty of older chaps ready to face it with me. Now if I can ever find a lady like that—she’s who I’d marry.”
Fellows had already returned to watching Louisa. “Perhaps you and Louisa should make a match of it.”
Daniel’s attention came back from his future, and he bent his shrewd stare on his uncle. “Louisa and I have become great friends,” he said, as though choosing his words with care. “But no. I don’t believe we would suit.”
“Maybe not now. In a few years, though . . .”
“No. I’m thinking that in a few years, she won’t still be waiting.”
Daniel was right. Louisa shone with brilliance. She was kind, warmhearted, and stronger than she understood. As soon as Fellows proved her innocence and all this blew over, Louisa would be snapped up by any of a string of eligible bachelors. The newspapers would make much of the marriage between the earl’s daughter and some sprig of aristocracy. She’d marry in glory, and then be gone. She might greet Fellows at family parties, but Louisa would have her own life, no longer connected with his.
Louisa and her partner whirled closer to the corner in which Fellows and Daniel stood. Daniel lifted his whiskey glass in salute. Louisa smiled back at him, then her gaze landed on Fellows.
Her smile vanished, and the light drained from her face as though someone had extinguished a lamp. She stumbled. The gentleman with her caught her, so smoothly no one but Fellows and Daniel saw the near fall.
The gentleman said something to her, and Louisa laughed. The light returned, she spun away from Fellows, and resumed the dance.
Fellows felt as though someone had crushed all the air out of him. He might as well be lying at the bottom of a pile of bricks, with no hope of clawing his way out.
