Page 22 of A Scot on Duchess Square
“Goodness, is she about to create a scene? Who is she? She’s beautiful, but she does not like that I am seated beside you. Is she your mistress?”
“What? Och, no! Gwenys, where did ye get such an idea? Do ye think I am the sort of man who would court yer aunt while also keeping a mistress? No, I’ve had nothing to do with Lady Wharton for many years. That ended long ago. She is firmly in my past, and I would like nothing better than to keep it that way. But the Fates seem to be working against me by bringing her here just now.”
“She looks jealous.”
“Aye, lass. She is no’ a nice lady. She’s petty. Envious. The sort who would revel in another’s misery.”
“Then why did you ever consort with her?”
“Men do no’ always think with their brains. She was beautiful. It was years ago, and I was no’ particularly thinking of getting serious with any lass. She was offering herself to me without any commitments required on my part…er, since she was already married. I am no’ saying what I did was right, only that…” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, for he was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. “Suffice it to say, I dinna give a fig whether she had a sweet nature or not. Lady Wharton and I never developed any feelings for each other beyond a casual, convenient dalliance years ago. I assure ye, it ended quickly because I realized she was no’ a nice person and no’ really convenient at all.”
“Seemsshewas not ready for it to end.”
“Och, she did no’ give a care about me and moved on to other lovers immediately after we parted ways. Pardon my crudeness, but I dinna wish to lie to ye about it. Our liaison meant nothing to either of us and wasn’t going anywhere. As I said, she was married at the time. And kindly dinna lecture me on sin and such. I would never interfere with a happy marriage. By the time I met her, she and her husband already hated each other and seem to hate each other worse now, judging by the bile in her gaze.”
“Oh, that is awful. Perhaps she feels as hurt as Miranda did when her husband betrayed their wedding vows.”
“Nay, lass. I dinna think so. She was the one who strayed first in their marriage. I haven’t seen her in years,” he said, hoping there would not be a similar scene to the one had in the library a short while ago in front of Miranda.
Blessed saints, would Gwenys now hate him too?
She placed a hand over his wrist and quietly squealed. “Oh, she looks angry enough to stab me with a butter knife. My goodness, for a smart man you’ve certainly made a mess of your love life. But I suppose people can be quite stupid when it comes to love…or mere love affairs.”
“I never said I had any brains back then,” he confirmed once again. “Blast, she’s going to make me regret ever having had anything to do with her.”
Bram rose, intending to steer Brianna out of the dining room before she could insult Gwenys.
But Brianna had already reached their table.
He held his breath.
“Well, Solway. Is this your pressing business this evening? Bedding the young lady? She looks to be barely out of the schoolroom.”
“Why thank you,” Gwenys said, smiling brightly. “In fact, I am one and twenty. Hardly a child. However, His Grace is a gentleman and is notbedding me, as you so crudely put it.”
“Lady Gwenys is under my wardship while in Scotland.”
“That’s right. He is my guardian and protector.” Gwenys frowned. “Ah, you must be theoldfriend His Grace was telling me about. Lady Wharton, is it? And yes, I see what he means byoldfriend.”
“Why, you insolent brat!” Brianna grabbed Gwenys’s cup and was about to toss it at Gwenys—what was it about women and tossing objects?—but Bram grabbed it in time.
Blessed saints. Could this get any worse?
Well, it did.
Miranda walked in just then, her eyes rounding as she noticed what was going on.
Bram, distracted while staring at Miranda, received the contents of the teapot thrown in his face. Fortunately, the tea had cooled by now, so it did not burn him as it dripped down his cheeks and spilled onto the front of his shirt and jacket, soaking both garments.
Bollocks.
Double bollocks.
Brianna stormed off, knocking into Miranda on her way out. The few other occupants in the room were staring at him.
Gad, would this get printed in the gossip rags?
Bram’s only concern was for Miranda, not only for the anguish it might cause her, but also for the physical pain of her broken rib that Brianna had just elbowed.
