Part 17 (2/2)
Fiona's jaw tightened. ”Actually, it's Lady Kincaid.”
She wished the woman were not so breathtakingly beautiful, with her thickly lashed eyes and outrageous figure. This was exactly the type of woman one could imagine with Jack. They must have turned heads every time they were together, the woman so blond and Jack with his auburn hair and dark blue eyes.
”Welllll...” The woman walked slowly around Fiona, looking her up and down. ”So you are the lucky woman who managed to snare Black Jack Kincaid. I can't imagine Jack getting married.” The woman's gaze narrowed. ”And here I thought he would only go to the altar kicking and screaming. Or perhaps...unconscious?”
Blast it, why had Jack told this wretch how they'd wed? She imagined Lucinda's shocked expression. Or worse, perhaps she'd laughed. Laughed at Fiona's desperateness. Laughed that Jack had been caught.
”Really,Lady Kincaid-” The woman made a mockery of the words, her smile as false as she was. ”But somehow, you don'tlook like a Lady Kincaid.” As her eyes dropped over Fiona's form, Fiona suddenly felt...fat. Fat and dumpy and just plain unattractive.
Which was patently untrue. She might be a bit plumper than she should have been, but that did not make her fat. Furthermore, Jack seemed to like her well enough.
His reaction to her in the garden just ten minutes ago was proof of that. Though she wasn't fool enough to think he wouldn't have the same reaction with another woman, it was rea.s.suring to remember the heat of his hands, the quickness of his breath as he caressed her.
”Poor Jack! He was quite humiliated by the whole ordeal.” Lucinda leaned against a marble-topped table that held a flower vase. ”Jack is pained that he has to spend so much time with you.”
”Oh?” Fiona said sweetly. ”He certainly seems enthusiastic in his...enjoyment...when we are private.”
”You don't know how close Jack and I are,” Lucinda hissed. ”If you had not pulled this trick on him, he would have marriedme by now.”
Fiona lifted a polite brow. ”What a shock that would have been forLord Featherington.”
Lucinda curled her lip. ”I cannot believe a little mouse like you thought to capture a man like Jack Kincaid. He needs far more than you have to offer. He needs a real woman, someone who understands his wants and needs. Someone like me.”
Fiona's nails bit into her palms and a faint rumble of thunder arose from outside. The broad doors rattled
against a sudden onslaught of wind.
”It must be difficult for you to know you won your husband only through force and deception,” Lucinda said in a falsely solicitous voice. ”That you literally dragged the poor man to the altar. I don't know how I would hold my head up if it were me.”
Fiona pasted a fake smile on her face. ”How amusing to hear you speak of deception. At leastJack has a wife he can trust. That's more than your husband can claim.” She turned to leave, her entire body rigid with anger.
Lucinda stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
”Move,” Fiona bit out.
”I am not through speaking to you,” Lucinda said, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng angrily.
”You will movenow ,” Fiona said.
”n.o.body tells me what to do.” Contempt roiled through Lucinda's voice. ”Especially a country b.u.mpkin
like you.”
Lightning crackled outside as fury bubbled through Fiona's veins. She picked up the flower vase andremoved the flowers. Lucinda shrieked as the water hit her full in the face. Lucinda gasped, her hair hanging in clumps about her head, kohl streaking down her face. ”You-you- I can't believe you-”
Fiona leaned forward. ”Do not attempt to spread your poison to me or mine. I am a MacLean, and the MacLeans protect what is theirs. The next time I ask you to move out of my way, I suggest you do so.”
The door to the hallway opened, and two gentlemen appeared, talking animatedly about the merits of snuff over cigars.
They stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing Lucinda standing sopping in a puddle in the middle of the
hall. Their startled gazes fell on Fiona. Smiling stiffly, she replaced the vase on the marble table and calmly began arranging the flowers.
”Good G.o.d! Lady Featherington! What happened?” The taller man hurried forward.
He had left the door open, and now several other people were peering out at them as well.
Fiona dipped a curtsey to Lucinda. ”Good evening, Lady Featherington. If you wish to find the repairing chamber, it is down the hall to your left.”
”Oh! You-you-” Lucinda's voice cracked.
Other people crowded into the hallway. A number of men looked upset, even angered, but every woman within sight had a smile on her face.
Fiona lifted her skirts and stepped over the puddle. ”Excuse me. Jack is waiting.”
Lucinda sent Fiona a look of such venom that the gentleman hovering nearby took a hasty step back. ”You will regret this.”
”Try your best,” Fiona said coldly. ”I shall be ready and waiting.”
She found Jack by the refreshment table. He made his excuses to the gentleman he'd been speaking with, and then escorted her to the main hall. A crowd at the other end obscured Lucinda from view.
”I wonder what that's about?” Jack asked as they gathered their cloaks.
”I believe a cat had a mishap with a vase of water.”
They stepped outside to find the wind gusting, lightning flas.h.i.+ng overhead, and the telltale scent of lilacs.
Jack looked up at the sky, his expression suspicious. ”Fiona?”
”Gregor must be about,” she said smoothly.
”I've never smelled lilac during one of his storms.”
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