A Highwayman's Honor: (A Highland Highwayman Novella #1) by Michelle McLean Read Free Book Online Page A

excited and yet so full of despair all at the same time bemused her. A ball at the palace of Whitehall in London with the merry court of King Charles II was a sight to behold. The fact that it was most likely the last ball she’d attend made the experience bittersweet. Her decrepit but extremely wealthy betrothed, Sir Robert Whitely, was not one for merriment. Or so she’d been told. In fact he rarely left his country estate, preferring the quiet life far from the hustle and bustle of the court. Though at his age that was probably to be expected.
    The music swelled and she watched the swish of the women’s skirts as they danced. She longed to be back on the dance floor herself, but any more exertion and she might make a complete disgrace of herself. For a moment she wished she hadn’t had her maid lace her up quite so tight. But Mother had wanted her looking her best. For him. The man she’d soon be tied to for the rest of her life. Though she doubted the old curmudgeon could even see her, so the effort seemed wasted.
    Then again, she was free to enjoy herself for the moment as he’d failed to make an appearance. And at least one man seemed to appreciate the efforts which had gone into her dress for the evening. Their eyes met for the dozenth time and she hid a coy smile behind her fan. She’d seen him around court before and had always noticed him. It would be difficult not to. The  man exuded a vitality that seemed to draw women to him like bees to a banquet. She’d never asked about him though, not wanting to be just another of his multitude of admirers. But now…something about him seemed so familiar.
    “Alice,” she said, nudging her friend in the ribs.
    Lady Alice Chivers, bell of nearly every ball they’d attended since they were old enough to lace up their first gowns, turned to her. Elizabet held her fan high enough to hide her mouth as she spoke.
    “Who is that man over there? The large one who fills out those breeches so well.”
    Alice looked with interest in the direction Elizabet indicated. “Ah yes. I see what you mean. That satin is no match for the strapping body it’s encasing, is it?” she asked with a giggle.
    “Shh,” Elizabet warned, her eyes darting about for signs of her mother.
    “Oh, have a little fun, Bess. You’ll have little enough of it once you’re wed, that’s for certain.”
    Elizabet sighed. “That’s true enough.”
    “Poor Bess.” Alice wrapped her arm around Elizabet’s waist and hugged her, her perfect brunette ringlets tickling Elizabet’s face. “You must be optimistic. Surely he can’t live for too much longer. And then you’ll be a rich widow, free to do whatever you please.”
    “Alice!” Elizabet said, though she couldn’t hold back her laugh.
    “Oh, you know you’ve thought it. And if you are too miserable in the meantime, perhaps a discreet dalliance with a sinfully handsome gentleman will cheer you.”
    Alice nodded in the direction of the man Elizabet had indicated. “He certainly seems taken with you. I wouldn’t mind a bit of a distraction with him myself.”
    Elizabet gaped at her and Alice winked. “That is Lord John Ramsay. Devilishly handsome, richer than Croesus with several sizable holdings including some godforsaken pile of rock in Scotland he inherited from his mother. Lucky for us, he prefers his English roots and stays mainly with the court. Very good friends with the king though not one to flaunt it. Too bad your parents couldn’t have made you a match with him.”
    Elizabet sighed. “Like most eligible men in court, he’d have expected a decent dowry. Sir Robert was the only man of any substance willing to take me without one. He’s gained enough wealth from his previous three wives that he’s not too concerned with accumulating more. What he still hasn’t managed to get is a son. The only thing he’s interested in is a new wife young enough to get an heir on and pretty enough to make the deed enjoyable. At least