Page 34 of Hit Me With Your Best Scot
“What the devil’s wrong with ye?” Niall hissed from his shoulder. “That lass actually walked up and spoke to ye. About a horse. Ye should have been down on one knee, proposing.”
Coll turned around, changing his retort as he remembered that he’d told everyone but Eloise that he had a bride in mind, already. “As I toldmàthair, I have a lass I’m to wed,” he returned.
“Then why have ye been talking to all the unmarried young ladies here this evening?”
“Habit.”
His youngest brother narrowed his eyes. “What are ye about, giant? If ye dunnae marry, all Aden and I have done is for naught.”
“‘All ye’ve done?’” Coll repeated, scowling. “Ye found lasses ye loved and married them. Or rather ye’ve married, and Aden will in a week. What sacrifice are ye referring to?”
“Ye ken what I mean. We all came down here to honor our parents’ agreement. Ye’re n—”
“Just a damned minute, ye flea,” he cut in, using his old nickname for Niall despite the fact that the twenty-four-year-old now stood three inches above six feet. “We came down here to throw that agreement back in Lady Aldriss’s face and march back to Scotland. And then ye took the lass she chose for me for yerself.” When Niall opened his mouth to respond, Coll held up a hand. “Aye. I ken I walked out on Amy. I was there. My point being, the only thing ye and Aden have sacrificed is spending yer nights alone. So leave off. I’ll wed before Eloise does.” He put a slight grin on his face. “Ye and yer proper wives may nae like who I choose, but I’ll damn well marry.”
“Coll, dunnae t—”
“Leave off.”
Niall subsided at his tone, as Coll had known he would. Aye, he could quote Shakespeare and had a finer education than most folk realized, but his brothers knew better than anyone that pushing him could well mean a fight, and he tended not to lose.
They were correct, of course, because hehadn’tyet found a bride. Even so, he’d given his word that he would escort Persephone to the theater in the morning. And he could acknowledge to himself that he would have been at the Saint Genesius tomorrow whether he’d made an agreement with her or not.
“You gave him your address?” Flora pulled a green muslin gown with elbow-length sleeves from the wardrobe and held it up.
“I did. No, not that one. Try the blue and white one.”
“The one with the little red roses on it?”
“Yes, that one.” As she spoke, Persephone pulled her night-rail off and left it crumpled on the quilted bedspread. She’d overslept, which wasn’t unusual; being in the theater meant her days could end at dawn and not begin until well after noon, but she’d actually gone to bed before midnight last night.
No, it wasn’t the hours; it was the man. A very wicked, sharp-witted Highlander, to be precise. She stretched, lifting her arms skyward. A very, very wicked Scotsman, indeed.
“What in heaven’s… How did you get that bruise on your bottom, Persie? Did another sandbag fall?”
Damnation. “No. I was… at sea with a Scottish fisherman.”
Flora’s eyes widened. “You let that Lord Glendarril below deck? Persie, you barely know him!”
“I don’t need a lecture, Flora; I’m eight-and-twenty, earn my own keep, and rent my own house. Th—”
“I know all that, for heaven’s sake. I’m just baffled. You got rid of Claremont because he wanted… below deck, and now, after one day of acquaintance, you give in to the Scotsman?”
“I didn’t give in. It was my idea.” Retrieving her shift from the wardrobe, she pulled it on. “As it turns out, he’s a good fisherman. A very good fisherman.” Hugging herself, she grinned. “Delicious.”
Fanning herself with the skirt of the blue and white gown, Flora chuckled. “Oh, my. I won’t warn you to be cautious, because I know you always are. Iwillsay that you shouldn’t lose your heart to a man you’ve promised to help find a wife.”
“Don’t worry about me, my dear,” Persephone returned, turning and lifting her arms again so Flora could help her with the muslin. “I’ve been playing this game for more than seven years now.” She snorted. “I did tell him that he won’t be allowed in the house if he can’t charm you, Gregory,andHades.”
“Ha.Ihaven’t been able to charm Hades, and I’ve known him for six years.”
“Precisely.”
As if on cue, the black cat emerged from beneath the bed to stretch, digging his claws into the expensive Persian rug that covered the polished wooden floor. Flicking his tail upward, he hissed in Flora’s direction before he wound himself around Persephone’s ankles and then padded for the cracked-open bedchamber door.
“I had Gregory chat with Lady Greaves’s maid when he ran across her at the market this morning,” Flora went on, buttoning the trio of fastenings going up Persephone’s back before moving on to tie the blue ribbon about the high waist of the gown. “Milly says no one’s seen Claremont at any soiree for the past few days.”
“I hope he’s gone home,” Persephone commented feelingly, sitting at the dressing table to brushing out her shoulder-length hair. Her hair was her one vanity, she supposed; with the number of wigs she wore, keeping it cropped would be much easier. But she couldn’t do it. “He has business there with his renovations, and none here with me. What do you say to that scandalous ginger wig this morning?”
