Joan Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

Douglas asked carefully.
    Ian swallowed his sausage and raised his coffee cup. “Not yet. But she will. She’s got this fixation about me not joining the army. I’ll have to persuade her.”
    “You’ll have to persuade your mother first,” Douglas said dryly.
    Ian grinned, his teeth very white in his dark face. “If Frances says she’ll marry me, mother will come round.”
    “Is that why you want to marry her?” Douglas said harshly. “To force your mother into buying you a commission?”
    Ian put down his cup and looked at Douglas. “What a stupid thing to say.” His voice was quiet and very hard.
    Douglas’s eyes fell before that sword-like look. “It was, rather. I’m sorry.”
    Ian began to eat again. “What else is there to do in this town besides courting Frances?”
    Douglas sighed. “The same things there are in Edinburgh, only more of them.”
    Ian looked bleak. “God, Douglas, if I don’t find something to do with myself soon I shall go mad! Or die at an early age from too much drink.”
    His cousin laughed. “How are things in Scotland?”
    “Not good,” Ian said grimly. “More and more landlords are bringing in sheep. All they want is to take as much of the profits as they can and spend it all in London. No one is plowing anything back into the land. I’m sorry to say that my brother is as bad as the rest of them. Consequently there are more and more people living on smaller and smaller pieces of land. And no one is trying to do anything to remedy the situation.”
    “I know,” Douglas said quietly.
    “That’s one of the reasons I want to get away, Douglas,” Ian said desperately. “I can’t bear to see what is happening to the Highlands. And it is our own leaders who are doing it! The disaster of the ‘45 will be as nothing compared to what is coming now. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.’’
    “I know,” Douglas said again.
     
    * * * *
    Frances was sitting in her aunt’s drawing room with Lady Mary, the Marquis of Bermington, and the Earl of Chilton when Ian arrived in Hanover Square that afternoon. He paused on the threshold, a startled look on his face as he took in the room’s inhabitants. “Ian!” Frances looked lit from within as she said his name.
    “I didn’t realize you were holding court, Frances,” he said, moving across the room with a catlike grace unusual in so big a man.
    She gave his hand a warning squeeze. “I don’t think you know my aunt. Lady Mary Graham. Aunt Mary, may I present Mr. Ian Macdonald.”
    “How do you do, Mr. Macdonald,” Lady Mary said discouragingly. She was a small, dark woman and her eyes widened slightly as he came across to bow over her hand. “Goodness, but you’re big!”
       Ian smiled charmingly. It was part of his policy to make a good impression on Lady Mary. “I am so pleased to meet you, Lady Mary,” he said in his deep, slow voice.
    Frances introduced him to Lord Bermington and Lord Chilton and invited him to sit down. He was eight years younger than Chilton and twelve years younger than Bermington, but both those sophisticated men of the world paled beside his intensely alive presence. He sat down, crossed his arms, and lifted an ironic eyebrow at Frances. Your move, his eyes said to her unmistakably.
    “I promised Ian I would drive out with him today, Aunt Mary,” she said promptly.
    “But Miss Stewart, I thought you were driving with me,” protested Lord Chilton.
    “I am so sorry, my lord,” said Frances with sweet earnestness. “But Mr. Macdonald and I are childhood friends, you understand. We haven’t seen each other in ages and we have so much catching up to do. How is your mother, Ian?” she asked, turning to him.
    “Very well, Frances,” he answered gravely, but his eyes glinted with amusement.
    “I’m so glad. You must tell me all about Castle Hunter.” She rose. “If you’ll excuse me, Aunt Mary, gentlemen, I will go and get my hat.”
    She exited gracefully, leaving