A Scot's Pride by Eliza Knight

Author:Eliza Knight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eliza Knight

Freya’s head was buzzing by the time they arrived at the grand manse north of Sunderland. The ride had taken about an hour. She needed fresh air after her mother, along with Leila, sucked all the breathing room out of the carriage.

Their carriage was already on the smaller side, and when six women were added, it made the quarters more than tight. When the footman had opened the door, they’d practically spilled out, and Leila even groaned and put a hand to her forehead as if she might faint. Her middle sister’s theatrics were enough to get her a job in Covent Gardens if marriage didn’t work out for her.

The Palladian manse was colossal, built of white stone. Freya’s gaze scanned the Corinthian columns, carved angels and dozens of sparkling glass windows. To the right and left of the stone steps that led up the main door were dozens of rose bushes with towering topiaries between each one.

The doors to the grand home opened, and a liveried butler ushered them inside before guiding them into a grand drawing room. Chintz and gilt and flowers were everywhere, adding opulence to opulence. But Freya’s gaze centered where Bryson sat with Lady Daven, another older woman Freya assumed to be Lady Heaton and a young woman she didn’t recognize. On the other side of the young woman was Lord Ashbury, who fairly leapt from his chair in his haste to receive them.

Bryson stood along with the others and welcomed them in such a reserved manner she thought she’d imagined him personally coming to find her this morning to deliver the invitation. “May I introduce ye to my aunt, Lady Heaton? You know my aunt, Lady Daven. And this is my sister, Miss Lucy.”

Leila let out a not-too-quiet gasp in surprise to see his sister standing before them when all had presumed her perished or banished. But Freya and Riley didn’t flinch, greeting Lucy as manners besuited and hoping Leila’s gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in their ears. Of course, Freya had told Riley about her previous conversation with Bryson about his older sister passing away and that she assumed he had a younger sister hidden somewhere.

There she was in the flesh. Tiny and pretty. Dark hair, like her brother’s, was neatly swept up into a bun, and curls framed her face. Her eyes were the same gray as Bryson’s too. But where he was rugged angles, she was soft.

Lucy, who was closer in age to Leila, took her by the hands and smiled with all the enthusiasm of a young lady who’d not seen someone her age in years. “Do you play the piano?”

Freya was surprised at the lack of a Scottish burr in Lucy’s voice. She had clearly been raised in England, which made sense. And given her age, she would not yet have come out to the ton, which explained why they hadn’t made her acquaintance yet and why the rumors continued to fly.

“Oh, yes.” Leila flashed Molly a look that said, “Don’t you dare try.

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