Lucy Muir Read Online Free

a barbarian.
    But Lord Murray had found the situation to be quite otherwise. Upon his arrival yesterday he had been informed by his host that the ball his wife planned for the next night to introduce the earl to Society promised to be the event of the Season, thanks to his being a Scotsman. The immense popularity of Mr. Scott’s poem, Lady of the Lake, had made all things Scottish quite the rage, Lord At-wood had informed his guest, a twinkle in his eyes. He would have his pick of all the unmarried ladies in London for a wife, he was assured.
    Another man might have enjoyed such notoriety, Lord Murray mused, but he preferred a quiet life and found the prospect of unlimited adulation daunting. Still, he could not embarrass his host by leaving, any more than he could shirk his responsibilities and return to Perthshire unbetrothed. His aunt was getting too old to supervise the running of a large Scottish castle, and he had no younger close single female relatives to take over the reins.
    Besides, his people expected him to have a wife to attend to her share of the many duties entailed in running a Highland estate, and were becoming impatient with his tardiness in fulfilling his obligations to his name. Only this last week his housekeeper had taken him to task about it. True, his butler had defended his laird’s single state, but only because of his long-standing rivalry with the housekeeper. Lord Murray had seen the reproachful look in Balneaves’s eyes that told him the butler felt his lord was forcing his faithful servant to defend the indefensible.
    Lord Murray took another sip of the fine claret and silently thanked his host. Lord Atwood had been most congenial, as had Lady Atwood and their two children. He had not known, however, when he accepted the baron’s offer of accommodation, that his host had had a single daughter of marriageable age. He most likely would not have accepted Lord Atwood’s hospitality if he had known, given his stated purpose in coming to London. It could lead to complications, should Miss Atwood conceive a partiality for him that he did not return.
    Yet Miss Atwood might well be a possibility in his search for a bride, Lord Murray admitted to himself. She had the proper background and breeding, and she was very beautiful—tall, with sleek dark brown hair, a fine figure and clear blue eyes. She would not look amiss in his castle by the loch. He shook his head to clear it of his fantasies and placed his empty glass on a side table. It was time to join his hosts.
    * * * *
    As the guests began arriving, Lord Murray knew that he would indeed have many women to choose from as unmarried girl after unmarried girl was presented to him. They all regarded him with apparent admiration, some shyly, some boldly, and some, from their deep breaths and fade-away looks, seemingly ready to swoon. He did, however, notice a few looks of disappointment as they surveyed his clothing. A wry smile touched his lips as he realized they probably expected him to be clad in full traditional Highland attire.
    For his part, he found that while many of the young women were attractive, none particularly stood out as anyone he wished to know better. And as time passed, the sheer number of women presented to him caused them to blur together. He was beginning to wonder how he would ever be able to make a choice of a bride when he could not even distinguish the ladies one from another, when his eye was caught by two girls standing together in the receiving line. They were of the same height and build, and dressed similarly, but of strikingly different colouring, one of them having red hair, and the other black. Sisters, perhaps?
    A Mr. and Mrs. Hartwell were presented to him, and then the first of the two girls stood before him.
    ‘‘Lord Murray, may I present Miss Hartwell? Miss Hartwell, Lord Murray, Earl of Abermaise,” his host said formally.
    Miss Hartwell curtsied, and Lord Murray surveyed her with pleasure. Tousled red