Page 79 of Hit Me With Your Best Scot
“I had a miraculous recovery. Dunnae question my behavior when ye’ve been seen running about London in naught but a claymore.”
“I was after a snake. Nearly took off his ear too,” Coll retorted.
“Good.”
“Aye.”
They managed to get Eloise’s favorite dressmaker to the house by half nine, and Temperance had a midnight blue silk and lace gown that fit her like a glove and flowed like water by half ten. Niall volunteered to go speak to the pastor who’d married Aden and Miranda about certain legalities, while Francesca herself summoned her solicitor for a chat about special licenses and names.
Before that fellow arrived, Coll, Temperance, and three capable lads headed for the Saint Genesius and the last dress rehearsal for the Scottish play. Watching her transform into the cold, regal, and viciously ambitious Lady Macbeth continued to stun him, especially in the moments when they stopped and she laughed at something one of her fellow actors said, back to herself again.
“You’re marrying her, Persephone says,” Charlie Huddle said, coming to a stop beside where Coll sat on a crate of wooden swords.
“Aye.”
“She has a contract through next Season to perform at the Saint Genesius, and I—”
“That’s nae my affair,” Coll interrupted, “unless she doesnae want to be here.”
“She’ll be Lady Glendarril, though. Doesn’t that trouble you?”
“Nae in the least. Think of the publicity for the Saint Genesius, though.” Hiding his grin, Coll watched the theater manager absorb that bit of information.
“I… am. Now—oh, my. This could be—we could see our most profitable Season ever. I…” Huddle strode away, calling over his shoulder, “Excuse me, I need to do some figuring.”
People kept telling Coll he should be mortified at the idea of having a wife who acted onstage. If he cared what other people thought, it might have made a difference, but he hoped it wouldn’t have. Seeing how good she was at it and knowing how much she enjoyed it, he couldn’t imagine even trying to take it away from her. As he’d told his mother, the Season only lasted from mid-spring to late summer. He could spend that in London with her. The rest of the year could be for Scotland.
His father had refused to make that compromise for his mother, and Coll wasn’t about to repeat those mistakes. Aside from that, just the idea of seeing Temperance sad or lonely left him angry. If he could prevent that by coming down here among the dandies, he would damned well do so.
Ten minutes later, Temperance strolled up to him, not stopping until she’d slid her arms around his shoulders andkissed him, her soft mouth smiling against his. “I’m nae complaining, lass, but what did I do to deserve that?” he asked, putting his hands on her trim waist.
“You told Charlie that my staying or going wasn’t up to you,” she murmured.
“And what else would I say?”
“You? Nothing else. Ihavebegun to wonder if you’re so accustomed to looking after the needs of other people that being selfish simply doesn’t occur to you.”
“I am being selfish,” he returned. “I like seeing ye happy.”
“And I like being happy,” she whispered back to him. “I’ve been content with my life until now, I think, but you… you make me truly happy.”
“M’laird,” Gavin called down from his perch in the rigging, “ye said ye wanted to be back to Oswell House by six o’clock. It’s nearly that now.”
“I shouldnae have given him a pocket watch,” Coll muttered, reluctantly releasing Temperance. “Are ye finished here? There willnae be food tonight at the ball, Eloise says, so I plan on having a large dinner.”
“Yes, we’re finished. Ready as we can be for tomorrow.”
She didn’t say anything else, but he heard the nerves in her voice. It wasn’t only about playing a complicated lass in front of hundreds of people—or more, once the news got around that Persephone Jones was to wed Lord Glendarril. “If I have to personally separate every man in the audience from his pistol before they set foot inside the Saint Genesius, I will do it,” he stated. “Ask me if I’m jesting.”
“I know you’re not. It’s all been fairly subtle so far. A pistol is much more direct. I’m still worried about sandbags and falling forests.”
“I helped make Birnham Wood. It willnae fall on ye.”
He followed as she went into her dressing room tochange out of her rich, dark robes and into the more proper green muslin walking dress Miranda had lent her. She also donned her wig of ivory blonde hair after she pinned her own up.
“What do you think? Passable? Most of the rest of my wigs were at my house, I’m afraid.”
“Aye. More than passable. Ye take my breath away.”
