Page 81 of Hit Me With Your Best Scot
A good portion of them were downstairs in the foyer already, and damn it all, every one of the MacTaggert men was wearing or carrying a lion mask. They were all different, but unmistakable nonetheless. “I think the lasses may be having a bit of fun with us,” he commented, lifting his mask in his free hand.
Aden chuckled. “I’d rather be part of a pride of lions than a gaggle of geese or someaught.”
The ladies all wore different bird masks, with Temperance as a peacock, Eloise as a swan, Miranda an owl, and Amy a falcon, while Francesca wore a white and ivory gown topped with a feather-and-jewel-encrusted dove mask. They’d all coordinated, obviously, and had included Temperance without hesitation. For that, he would bow to their collective sense of humor and wear a damned lion head over his own.
Outside, he handed off his mask to Niall and swung up on Nuckelavee. Three other outriders joined him; it may have looked ostentatious to the rest of the world, but it wasn’t only Temperance he needed to protect now. She’d been taken in by his family, and that put them all in a degree of danger.
Lady Fenster’s grand house stood only five minutesfrom Oswell House, but that was enough time for him to run his mind through everything that could possibly go wrong tonight. It wouldn’t have been proper to drag Robert Hartwood into a corner by his ear and demand some answers, but he preferred that to making Temperance confront someone she’d spent nearly eight years avoiding.
The crowd of vehicles clogging the entire street did little to make him wish to be reasonable again. He gave the black over to Gavin and opened the coach door himself. “I dunnae like this,” he said, handing out his mother and then Temperance. “Too many people behind too many masks. We’ll manage this another way.”
She shook her head at him. “I’ve managed to screw my courage to the sticking place, Coll. If I turn around now, I don’t know that I could do this again.”
“Ye wouldnae—”
“A word, Coll,” his father broke in, putting a hand on Coll’s shoulder.
“Dunnae fret,” Aden said smoothly, stepping in to offer his free arm to Temperance. “We willnae go in without ye.”
Frowning, Coll followed the earl a few steps away from the others. “What is it?”
“I’d like to think I’ve learned a few things, even if it’s taken me far too long,” Lord Aldriss said. “And even though it may be too late for me, it’s nae too late for ye. Ye’ve chosen a strong woman. A strong woman willnae do as ye say, and she’ll nae watch her tongue when she disagrees with ye. My advice is to nae expect her to. She told ye she’s ready for tonight. Trust her to be.”
Coll cocked his head. “What happened to weak-willed, weeping women and hothouse flowers? That’s all ye said we’d find here in London.”
“I’m a prideful man, lad, as ye know. I didnae wantto lose ye, and I didnae want yer mother to be the one to make that happen.” The earl slipped on his lion mask, this one onyx with yellow. “And yet here we all are, together.”
Aye, they were all there together, and they made a bloody formidable group. Lions, indeed—and a lovely flock of birds no other men had been able to catch. Coll rolled his shoulders. He wouldn’t be the only one watching over Temperance tonight; if he did move against Robert Hartwood, he wouldn’t be doing it alone. The MacTaggerts stood together. Always.
Temperance watched father and son. Coll was taller and had broader shoulders, but any of the MacTaggerts could likely put even Gentleman Jackson on his arse. Whatever it was they’d discussed, the smile on Coll’s face as he walked up to her warmed her all the way to her bones.
This mountain of a man, whom others underestimated because, for some reason, they thought muscles didn’t equate with mental acuity, wantedher. This Highland god with his chiseled good looks and his warm laugh and his very capable hands and mouth, who’d been ordered to find a bride and had searched throughout London for weeks for one, had chosen her—even though she hadn’t even been on the registry.
“Are ye ready?” he asked, accepting his mask from Niall and slipping it over his dark, unruly hair.
“‘Once more unto the breach’,” she quoted, as Shakespeare’s warriors always made her feel braver.
“Itoldye I was Henry the Fifth,” he said.
“I never doubted it.” Putting her hand around his hard forearm, she resisted the urge to lean into him for strength. At this moment, people knew he was her protector, with all the sexual intimacy that went with the term. Some might guess that Persephone Jones had dared enter an aristocratic ballroom uninvited, which would be scandalous,but no one knew yet that they were to be married.Thatscandal would lift the roof off the house.
At the entrance to the ballroom, Lady Aldriss handed the butler the family’s invitation. A moment later, they were announced as “Lord and Lady Aldriss, Lord Glendarril, and family,” and Persephone stepped inside the room without being pointed at or having anyone turn their backs on her. It was still early, though.
Gold, yellow, and white ribbons hung from the ceiling, reflecting the chandelier light in a thousand different directions. The effect was striking and lovely and exotic all at the same time. Up on the overlooking balcony, a small orchestra played, while directly below them two tables stood laden with punch bowls and sweet treats.
A hundred or more people had already crowded into the house, and while she’d initially been pleased to be able to wear a mask, she quickly saw the disadvantage in everyone else being disguised. If Coll was correct, the person who’d either burned her house down or hired someone else to do it was here, and whoever had cut the rope holding the sandbags or swung the bucket or driven the wagon could well be gazing at her right now. All she would see would be a bear or tiger or parrot.
“Care to take a stroll with me?” Coll suggested.
She nodded, trying to keep her mouth in an amused half smile. The killer might know she was staying with the MacTaggerts, but no one had any reason to believe she would dare make an appearance here—either as Persephone or as herself. She had the advantage, at least for the moment. And she had Coll.
“If ye see anyone ye reckon could be Robert, ye squeeze my arm,” he said. “Francesca’s making a few discreet inquiries to see if we can discover which mask he’s wearing.”
“Is it odd that I’m looking forward to frightening thedevil out of all these people tomorrow as Lady Macbeth?” she asked, her gaze flitting from one mask to the next.
“Nae. I’m looking forward to that myself. Ye scared me, and that was just a rehearsal.”
“I doubt anything scares you,” she retorted.
