Free Somewhere My Lass by Beth Trissel Page B

cut.”
    “Aw, go on, Neil. You’re just his type,” Fergus added.
    Mora had no idea what they were blethering about, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Neil. His presence triggered less than ladylike sensations in her nether reaches.
    “I put Mora’s dress on your card too, and those darling shoes,” Wrenie added.
    “The shoes are fine as long as she doesn’t actually have to walk in them,” he tossed back. “Well, Mora, let’s see this new dress.”
    She hesitated. “There’s not a great plenty of cloth.”
    The smile curving his lips sent a fresh charge tingling through her midriff.
    “Don’t be shy,” he coaxed. “Show me and don’t mind Fergus.”
    “No one does,” he mumbled.
    Mora slowly opened the arisaid and unveiled her revealing gown. “Wrenie told me ’tis for the Yuletide festivity.”
    Neil swept his approving gaze over her. “The fit is perfect.”
    Mora had wondered at the fit after hearing the woman assisting her mutter something about why were all the girls so thin these days. As the woman wasn’t the least bit thin Mora had assumed plumpness to be the fashion.
    Wrenie stuck her head around the doorway. “It’s retro eighties.”
    Neil rolled his eyes. “What else?”
    “Don’t you love the green on black, with those sequins?”
    Approval warmed his gaze. “Lovely. And generous of you to allow the green. Figured you’d deck her out in all black. But why a holiday gown?”
    Wrenie shrugged as though it were obvious. “If you wait until December, they’ll all be snapped up. And then what will she wear to parties?”
    “What is she to wear to, oh say, the grocery store?”
    “Are you taking her grocery shopping?”
    Neil shook his head. “Not now.”
    “I’ll get her something else later then.” With that, Wrenie returned to the kitchen.
    He let the matter rest and beckoned to Mora. “Come sit with me. I need to speak with you.”
    Weren’t they already speaking?
    Perplexed, but without the slightest objection, she went willingly. Her skin prickled at his touch as he took her arm and drew her down onto the couch beside him.
    If he noticed her involuntary response, he gave no indication. “While you were out, I returned home to restore some order and feed the cat.”
    “Ye have a cat?” The Neil she’d known seemed unlikely to find pleasure in such an animal, preferring his big deerhound. Some folk even thought cats were evil, but Mora delighted in the purring creatures.
    “I’ve had Sebastian for years,” he said, without any further explanation, or the mention of a dog.
    She sensed an underlying tension in him. “How did ye find yer house?”
    “Covered in powder from where the police dusted for fingerprints.”
    “A strange business, to add dust to one’s home.”
    “I suppose so, if you think of it that way. I wiped it up as best I could in a hurry.”
    “Sech cleaning is a servant’s work.”
    His gravity deepened. “I don’t know how many servants you’re used to, but my one and only housekeeper is gone. There will never be another like her.”
    “Aye,” Mora nodded. “I’m pained for yer sadness. ’Tis a grave matter, the felling of an old woman.”
    “Your own aunt.” He studied her closely. “Don’t you remember her at all?”
    Mora squirmed under his appraisal. “I’ve nary an aunt who goes by the title of Mrs. Dannon.”
    He bent forward. “Maybe you knew her by another name.”
    “Mayhap,” Mora agreed, partly to appease him. “Did ye blot up all the spilt blood without a hand to help ye?” She shot Fergus a reproachful look.
    “Fergus is squeamish about such matters,” Neil said.
    Fergus grimaced. “Yeah. I’m weird that way.”
    “I’m not,” Mora insisted. “I should have given ye aid.”
    “Surely a young woman isn’t accustomed to dealing with such grim business,” Neil reasoned.
    Mora met the earnestness in his eyes. “Few live long in the Hielans without looking on the face of maiming and death. Even the