Page 10 of Hit Me With Your Best Scot
Personally, she didn’t see why he would still be without a bride after eight or nine weeks in Mayfair. Even without the lure of a title, he was stunningly handsome, a literal larger-than-life presence amid the dandies andgadabouts. And if the fourth-hand whispers she’d heard from seamstresses who’d heard from store clerks who’d heard from maids were true, he had recently been seen running from Oswell House naked and carrying a large sword—and the ladies hadn’t noted anything to complain about then, either.
Chuckling, she ducked her face beneath the water and then straightened again. There was something appealing, even refreshing, about a man with enough self-confidence to show his nethers to the world, especially with a large sword to hand for comparison’s sake.
Those were just rumors, of course, and by the time any Society news came behind the curtains of the theater, she had no idea of its veracity. Still, she meant to have a second look at the latest Society pages still to hand in the house, this time with Coll MacTaggert in mind. If he did mean to hunt her down, she wanted a bit more ammunition, herself.
As the water cooled and the cloud-obscured moon rose high enough to peep at her through her east-facing window, she stood and dried herself off. Her nights frequently didn’t end until sunrise, but for the next ten days she would be observing less nocturnal hours. The theater would go on without its principal players for that time, since Charlie Huddle was bringing in a roving troupe based all the way up in York to perform Aphra Behn’sThe Rover, or The Banish’d Cavalierswhile she and her fellows rehearsed the Scottish play. While she liked the part of the determined Florinda fromThe Rover, the play was extremely bawdy, and the admirers who presently lurked backstage and at the rear door of the theater were grabby enough as it was.
Persephone pulled on her night-rail, banked the fire, and climbed under the soft, warm covers of her bed, grateful that Gregory had thought to heat them. A moment later,Hades leaped up to curl into a midnight ball on the pillow next to her head.
MacTaggert had said that he found her desirable, even if his words had been a bit blunter than that. The viscount was after a wife, though—if those rumors were to be at all believed—so she wondered if he would bother to hunt after her at all. It could have been simple curiosity or boredom that had led him backstage, and a man hunting after a wife wouldn’t have time to search her out, anyway. Thanks to him, she’d just rid herself of one “protector,” as those men looking to buy her enough things that she would hopefully allow them into her bed called themselves. She wasn’t anxious to have to deal with another man looking to buy her with pretty baubles.
Perhaps, though, the Highlander would attempt to woo her with deer carcasses. Then at least she would have some venison in exchange for… whatever she chose to grant him. He was, after all, easy on the eyes. And while she certainly wasn’t marriageable, she wasn’t dead, either.
Chapter Three
“Great business must be wrought ere noon.”
HECATE,MACBETHACT III, SCENE V
Coll opened his bedchamber door at just past six o’clock, before the sun had even risen. Back home, beginning the day early came alongside the responsibility of being his father’s heir, and barring a previous evening down at the tavern when he’d been younger, and an evening in a lass’s bed as he’d gotten older, he was accustomed to starting his day at least an hour before the rest of the house.
Adjusting to London life had been a challenge, with the way the household didn’t return home until nearly dawn and then didn’t rise until noon, but it did give him most mornings to himself.
Even as he finished that thought, though, a figure topped the stairs in front of him. He had the morningsnearlyto himself, he amended. “Back from Canterbury, are ye?” he asked, declining to move aside as his younger brother started down the hallway.
Aden patted his coat pocket. “Aye. Seems I’m to be wed on Saturday next. I’d make it today, but Miranda’s sent for her aunt to attend.”
Silently, Coll took in his brother’s loose cravat, half-unbuttoned waistcoat, and disheveled, too-long hair. “And how is Miranda this morning?” he drawled.
“Hush, ye lummox,” Aden countered, lowering his voice.“I need an hour or two of sleep before the MacTaggert lasses take to swooning over the romance of it all.” His sly smile touched his gray-green eyes. “And she’s well, thank ye for asking.”
“I still say ye should elope with her to Scotland, like Niall did with Amy. It’s more fitting if ye’re wed by a Scotsman, even if the minister is a Lowlander—and a blacksmith to boot.”
“Lady Aldriss swears she means to attend this wedding, and I’ll nae wait a month for her to pack her bags.” Aden cocked his head. “And ye dunnae have the days to waste on traveling. Nae when ye’ve less than four weeks now to find a bride for yerself.” He put a protective hand over his pocket again. “And now that I’ve got my bride, ye’ve nae excuse, Coll. Go choose yerself a lass so we dunnae have to fret over Aldriss Park any longer.”
“Ye only have a lass becausesheasked ye for yer hand,” Coll retorted.
Aden’s grin would’ve made a good number of lasses swoon. “Aye, she did. And I imagine ye could have a lass ask ye today as well, if ye’d stand still long enough for one to catch ye.”
News always spread so damn quickly in London, most likely because everyone lived so close together. “So ye heard about the theater last night, did ye?”
“Miranda told me. She heard it from her brother. Who has a broken nose, by the way.”
“Good.” There were times he found it difficult to believe that Miranda and Matthew Harris were siblings. It was the lass who had most of the common sense, that was for damned certain. And a good share of cleverness, or she’d never have caught the elusive Aden.
Aden narrowed one eye. “I’ll admit that he deserved a good thump, but keep in mind that he’s nae a Highlander. If ye hit him too hard, ye may break him.”
Coll snorted. “I reckon he heard what I had to tell him, and he’ll nae be forgetting it.” Leaning against the balcony railing, he thumped one fist against the well-polished mahogany. “One of us has to keep our head out of the posies and watch out for the family. Given that ye and Niall cannae see past yer lasses any longer, that falls to me.”
“Or,” Aden returned, his tone speculative, “ye could decide that while London has its perils, nae a one of us is a fool and we can look after ourselves, and ye could go find a lass to love ye.”
“I’ve been looking, damn it all.” Coll scowled. “It was one thing when I wanted to find a lass and leave her here when I go back to Scotland. But with all the Sassenach women knowing that, it seems they’re all just as mercenary as me. I’m outnumbered.”
“That ye are. And if ye willnae take a look at the women our sister is putting in front of ye, and ye dunnae trust the ones our mother is putting in front of ye, and ye dunnae want Amy or Miranda introducing ye to any of their friends, then ye’re on yer own, Coll. And the summer days are getting longer.”
“I know that. I’m nae about to put Aldriss in peril. I’m off to Hyde Park this morning to take a gander at the lasses.”
With a nod, Aden continued toward his room across the hallway from Coll’s. “I hope ye find one,bràthair.” He paused in his doorway. “Dunnae be so ferocious. Ye’re a decent man, when the mood strikes ye.”
