A Scotsman's Promise

Chapter 24 (part 1)

Calen couldn't believe she was gone. She was standing right in front of him, but as soon as the door opened, she would vanish. Already it seemed as if there were an ocean between them. She was about to cross the threshold into wealth, to rejoin the upperclass, and he would be left behind.

He had almost asked her to wait, almost asked her not to go inside, not to leave him, but he knew it was not his place to do so. She belonged in this unfamiliar world. She belonged in this big house surrounded by others like her. She belonged here, and he did not.

The moments they stood silently waiting for the door to be answered seemed an eternity. After seveal agonizing seconds, a young woman opened the door, her plain brown dress and white starched apron and cap displaying her position in the household.

"Yes?" she asked in a tone that was a far cry from welcoming.

Calen watched Cara's face, curious to see how she would respond to such a greeting. He saw the surprise enter her features, and then watched as it turned to indignation when she registered how she had been treated. Calen couldn't stop a small smile as he waited to see how she would handle it.

"I am here to see Mrs. Freeman," Cara stated.

The blonde maid did not flinch at Micara's stern voice. "I am sorry, Miss, Mrs. Freeman is not at home."

Micara frowned. She was obviously not impressed by the young woman's manner. "When will she return? I shall simply wait here for her."

"I am afraid that will not be possible. Mrs. Freeman was called away on an important personal matter. No one is permitted inside without her specific instructions, and she will not be returning for at least a fortnight."

Cara's mouth dropped open slightly. Calen bit back a smile as he waited for her reaction. "Your pardon, Miss," she said in the aristocratic voice Calen remembered so well, "I am Micara DeMonae, Gladys Freeman's niece. She is expecting me and I demand entrance to this house."

Micara looked as surprised as Calen felt when the maid remained staunchly positioned in the doorway.

Mrs. Freeman will return in two weeks. You may take your story to her then. Until that time, please remove yourself, your luggage, and your filthy companion from this property."

Cara let out a raging breath when the impertinent blonde scrunched her nose distastefully in Calen's direction. However, the maid did not let either of them get another word out before she bid them a final good bye and closed the door, effectively ending the conversation.

Cara stood confounded for a few moments before taking hold of the door knock and rapping it even more forcefully than before. This time there was no answer. After a minute or so of angry, silent waiting, Cara turned from the door and let out a furious spell of French words.

Calen could hold back no longer. His pretentious princess had met her match. A laugh broke free, cutting of Micara's streak of offended French babbling. Cara immediately turned her indignation on him, demanding to know what he had found so amusing.

Calen grinned mischievously, knowing she would not like his answer, but giving it anyways, "She beat ye at yer own snobbery."

He chuckled once more at her look of outrage.

"That is not the least bit funny," Micara informed him angrily, "She treated me as if I were some dirty beggar looking for free lodging."

Calen gave her an understanding smile. "Ye can't blame the lass too much," he said gently, "Ye don't exactly look like a duchess at the moment."

He retrieved her trunk from beside her on the stone step and carried it back to the carriage that had been waiting to take him back to the docks. He opened the carriage door and held out his hand.