For The Love Of My Scotsman (Complete!)

Ripped Seams and Bloody Boots

After Lottie bathed, careful not to smear the makeup that Thomas had painted in place of her burned-off eyebrows, she snipped the ends of her burnt hair with a pair of scissors. With the browned, curled ends gone, she could almost believe that her experiment hadn't gone horribly wrong.  Almost.

Sally arrived soon after to help her dress for dinner. "Miss, the seamstress sent a letter asking about your dress for the Christmas Masquerade ball—Oh my."

Lottie winced, discretely covering her eyebrows as best she could. "I know, I know," she groaned.

Sally shook her head, eyes wide with innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, Miss."

Lottie sighed and gestured for the note. "Oh well, perhaps the guests won't be as observant. What does the letter say?"

Taking her place behind Lottie to style her hair, Sally took up a brush. "She believes she has found a costume that will suit you and wants to come tomorrow for a final fitting."

Lottie nodded absently, her thoughts drifting to Thomas. Would he be there at the ball as a footman? It would be so much easier if she could dance with him instead, but it would never be allowed. After all, he was just a servant, and Lottie was the charge of the Earl and Countess of Durham.

***
Checking her hair one last time for any burned ends that she might have missed, Lottie joined the Earl and Countess beside the door to the dining room. Their heads were bent together, deep in discussion about preparations for their new grandchild, and Lottie smiled at the sight. The Countess had been quite difficult when the Atwell sisters first arrived in England, but behind her fierce countenance was a soft, loving woman who truly doted on Lottie and Fidelia.

William's cane clicked in the hallway and Lottie turned, brightening to see Fidelia sitting in the wheeled chair, pushed by Thomas.

"Fidelia!" Lottie ran to kiss her sister's cheek. She looked more tired and pale, but her green eyes were bright as ever.

"Devil's beard!" William squawked and Lottie cringed. "What happened to your eyebrows?"

Lottie sputtered, pointing to her face, and then towards her laboratory. Finally, she shrugged and looked to Thomas for help. All eyes turned to him.

Thomas held up his hands and imitated an explosion with his fingers. "Ka-boom!"

William nodded slowly, his lips parted in a cringe. "Ah-hah..."

Fidelia giggled, patting Lottie on the hand. "You will likely kill that man one of these days," she whispered.

"So he tells me. Daily," Lottie muttered, taking the wheeled chair from Thomas.

Behind her, Thomas leaned close to William and whispered, "I do believe Miss Lottie is certifiably insane."

William chuckled, "It's genetic, my friend. Entirely genetic."

Lottie and Fidelia both whipped around to glare at the men.

Thomas and William gulped simultaneously. They were saved by the arrival of the other guests, and Lottie quickly busied herself with helping Fidelia so no one else could comment on her missing eyebrows.

At supper, Lottie found herself seated with Octavia on one side, and Mrs. Ashdown on the other. Sir Roland and Mr. de Lacy sat across from them, engrossed in conversation with Lord Campbell.

"When should we expect an announcement of your wedding?" Mrs. Ashdown asked suddenly.

Lottie choked on her soup. Octavia patted her on the back gently, and Thomas, from his position with the other footman across the room, stepped forward as if to come to Lottie's aid.