Page 22 of Hit Me With Your Best Scot
“Yer proposal, then,” he said aloud, “is that I escort ye about and see that sandbags dunnae dare drop in yer presence, and in exchange ye’ll help me figure out how to chat with a lass and nae cause her to faint or run away or scowl like I have fleas or someaught.”
“And I will aid you in figuring out which lass wants you, and which one only wants to be a viscountess.”
Something occurred to him, and he frowned. “I’m nae some virginal bairn, ye ken. I’ve had lasses aplenty. And nae a complaint from any of ’em.”
The soft-looking skin of her cheeks darkened. “If you were a virginal bairn, my lord, we would be having a different conversation.”
“Coll.”
“Coll,” she repeated. “I’ve acted a lady more times than I can count, and I’ve watched silly boors become proper gentlemen during the course of a two-hour play before they resort to themselves again. I can help you catch the lass you want. And if it turns out the sandbagswerean accident and not a parting gift from Claremont, then I suppose you will have gotten the better part of the deal.” She twisted in the seat to face him. “Ifwe have a deal. Do we?”
“I keep lads away from ye, and ye show me how to entice proper lasses. Aye. I’ll agree to that. Saint Andrew knows I’ve nae had much luck on my own, and I’ll be damned if I let my own mother choose me a wife.”
He stuck out his hand. When she proffered hers, he shook it, declining to ask about any more… personal aspects of this agreement. He’d had enough rules for his life written out. This one, he’d manage all on his own. And this lasswouldend up naked in his arms, because he’d been imagining it since the first moment he’d set eyes on her.
“These were farms here?” Coll asked.
“Yes, dairy and hay, mostly. And some small houses and shops. James Burton purchased them all.”
“And that’s his grand house there?” He gestured toward the Holme.
“Yes.”
“The man likes attention.”
Persephone chuckled. “I cannot argue with that. But it will be lovely, I think. They say John Nash is overseeing the design.”
“M’laird, I’ve set out yer luncheon,” Gavin said, a half-eaten biscuit in one hand as he approached to check on the horses.
“And ye’ve sampled it as well, I see.”
“The biscuit fell out of the basket, I swear it.”
A few people walked and rode across the half-finished terraces and trails, most of them likely on their way to or from their places of employment. Once the park was finished, no doubt the parades of the finely dressed would begin and she would have to find another place for riding and walking, but for now, Persephone rather liked its busy, unfinished chaos.
She seated herself on the blanket, legs curled to one sideas she settled her yellow muslin skirts around her. Goodness, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a picnic. Even if she’d been in a position to be courted, at eight-and-twenty she was well on the shelf. That, added to her profession and social status, limited her opportunities for al fresco dining to nearly nil.
“I like it here,” Coll announced, sitting opposite her and folding his knees, adjusting his kilt to keep it covering his nethers with an unconscious ease that told her firstly he wore a kilt frequently, and secondly that hehadbeen on picnics before. “It’s nae as crowded as Hyde Park, and a lad can walk about without worrying whether he’s about to trample someone’s wee dog.”
She grinned. “You are not like any other viscount I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” His deep green eyes danced as he held out a bowl of strawberries to her. “My da warned me that all Mayfair lasses were hothouse flowers, wee and delicate and fainting, and that a man had to take a ridiculous amount of care with them or they’d wilt.”
“That sounds fairly accurate, actually,” she noted, trying not to groan as she bit into the sweet, sugared strawberry. Ladies weren’t the only things that lived in hothouses here in London.
When she looked up, his gaze was on her mouth, which made her exaggerate the bite—just because it was nice to be admired in such a voracious manner. She’d been pursued before and had even dined out with a man on occasion, but she generally set out rules beforehand to avoid any unpleasantness later. This time, she could tell herself it was purely business, a trade of specialties for mutual benefit, but they both knew it was more than that.
Last night, when she’d strolled offstage to see him standing there, her breath had actually caught. He’d seemed not so much from another play as another realm, a placewhere gods walked the earth and flirted with actresses who’d spent so much time playing romantic heroines that sometimes they couldn’t recall who they were outside the theater. His appearance had been… thrilling. And while she wouldn’t have invented an excuse to keep him about, she wasn’t above using a possible accident to do so.
Physically, he was a lion, a maned predator who brooked no rivals and had never been defeated in battle. At the same time, he’d clearly at least read the Scottish play and seemed familiar withAs You Like It. He’d figured out her motives for approaching him, and actually seemed to approve of the logic behind it. At the same time, he had already announced that he wanted her, and he’d done so without first plying her with food and gifts and making her feel obligated.
So muscular, intelligent, and insightful. A formidable trio under the best of circumstances. The Earl of Claremont had come in full of charm and gifts, which had been appealing because once she chose a protector, the wolves might not stop circling, but they would stop biting at her heels. Most of their conversations had involved his wealth and power and her beauty, and she’d tolerated it because it was easy. She lied for a living, after all.
Coll MacTaggert was far more direct than the earl, though, and she would have been willing to wager that his wits were keener, too, even if he lacked a great deal of Claremont’s refinement. She liked that this arrangement was actually mutual; she imagined he might take advice from her when he wouldn’t from Lady Aldriss. And if Claremont did mean trouble, this man seemed more than a match for him.
The only downside, if it was one, was that shedidfind Coll attractive. Damnably so. If they spent a moment or two in each other’s company, well, that might be tolerable. More than tolerable. Hopefully once they’dindulged that… interest they shared in each other, that would pass, because he needed to find a wife, and she was the farthest thing from marriageable that she could imagine.
“Where do ye hail from?” he asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
