Samantha James Read Online Free Page B

masquerade, then,” the baron had insisted. “Please, you will offend me deeply if you refuse.”
    Murdoch extended a hand. “Then we have no choice but to accept your gracious offer. But we will be off, bright and early, the morning after.”
     
    So it happened that she was here, in the baron’s home.
    Beneath the same roof as the Black Scotsman.
    The sound of Eileen’s cheery voice brought her back to preparations for the masquerade. “Shall I tighten the back laces of your vest, my lady?”
    Maura clasped her hands around the bedpost.
    “Goodness, my lady, never before have I tended a lady with so tiny a waist!” the girl marveled as she began her task. Maura scarcely heard.
    Knowing the Black Scotsman—she might as well leave off trying to think of him otherwise—was here, somewhere, sent a skitter of anxiety all through her.
    Eileen guided her to the dressing table, chiding her. “Do not frown so, my lady. A woman’s brow must be smooth as a baby’s bottom. Can ye imagine that? I never believed it until I tended a lady from England. Beautiful she was, with nary a wrinkle. It was achieved, she informed me, by neither frowning nor laughing. And if a smile must be displayed, it must be done only with the most demure sense possible.” In the mirror behind her, the girl demonstrated. “Her face was wooden. She even walked about as if she had wooden sticks for legs!” She started to laugh, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened. “Oh, forgive me, milady—”
    But Maura was laughing along with her. She realized it was the first genuine laugh she’d had since Papa’s death nearly ten days ago. Perhaps, she decided cautiously, the luck of the McDonough had already begun to change…for the better.
    “The baron,” said Maura. “Does he entertain often?”
    “Oh, two or three times a year.” Eileen picked up a hair brush. “A house party later in the summer. It’s lovely then, milady, ye should see it! All green and bright with flowers. He keeps the garden exactly the same as when his dear wife was alive, ye know. And usually another house party during hunting season.”
    Eileen ran the brush through Maura’s hair. “Such lovely hair ye have, milady,” said the girl. “So thick and dark and shiny. Will ye be leaving it loose beneath yer scarf?”
    Maura nodded. Eileen had already proved to be a font of information. Her father was the head groomsman for the baron. She was the eldest of eight children and had been in the employ of the baron for three years.
    “And this party? The masquerade?” Maura edged her back to tonight’s event. “Will there be many guests?”
    “A fair amount. The baron’s friends from Dublin and neighbors mostly,” Eileen supplied. “And the masquerade is in honor of the duke. His father and the baron were great friends, ye know.The duke’s father often came to fish, and the duke has continued the tradition every few years, I’m told.”
    The girl already knew how she and her “uncle” had met the baron, because of Maura’s letter regarding the baron’s late wife. Maura feigned innocence. “The duke?” she queried. “I wasn’t aware there would be a duke in attendance.”
    “Oh, aye.” Eileen’s eyes began to sparkle. “The Duke of Gleneden. Scots, he is. I heard Mrs. O’Hara say at luncheon today that when she was in England last, she heard that every young miss in England and Scotland longed to become his duchess—and not only for his money and title. I should imagine it’s surely the same for any woman in our fair isle! The Black Scotsman, he’s called.”
    “Really.” Maura feigned indifference. “And what other reason would these women have for wanting to marry the man other than his wealth and title?”
    Eileen fairly giggled. “Ye will know when you see ’im, milady.”
    Maura raised her brows. “How can you be sure?”
    Eileen chuckled. “Oh, I doubt ye will miss ’im,masquerade or no. His hair is as black as yer own. He