That got his interest. “And why would you be watching whomever that is?”
“Well, first of all, his name is Alasdair MacGregor. Secondly, his brother is married to my sister, the former Countess of Woodhaven.” She smiled. “I need to keep an eye on him to make sure he does not do anything…improper.” The twist-in-truth came out rather easily, since Alasdair no doubt had the same intentions regarding Fiona and herself.
“Do you plan to follow him around then?Discreetly, of course?”
“Well…subtlety is definitely warranted, but it would not hurt to let him know I am nearby. Just as a reminder to behave.” She smiled. “If you would not mind dancing with me, perhaps we can let our presence be known?”
He studied her for a moment as though he were deciphering her intent. Should she suggest it wouldn’t hurt for Melissa to see him dancing with another woman? No. That would wound his male pride. And she certainly didn’t want him to question her intent any further than what she’d already said.
He appeared to make up his mind, for he suddenly nodded. “Shall we join the dance then?”
And, as she and the marquess passed Alasdair and Lady Melissa, she made sure she laughed at whatever Lord Westwood was saying and didn’t look at Alasdair at all.
Lorelei felt a tingle of anticipation when Alasdair finally approached her near the end of the ball.Is he finally going to ask me to dance?It wouldn’t do, though, to let him think she’d been waiting. She lifted her chin and gave him a composed smile. “You seem to be quite popular this evening.”
He grinned. “Ye noticed then?”
Drat it. I shouldn’t have said that.It sounded like she’d beenwatchinghim. Which of course she had. Not that she needed to admit that. “A man in a kilt—especially in London—is hard to miss.”
He shrugged. “I doona like wearing that strangling contraption the English call a cravat.”
“You are taking a chance if King George hears of it.”
A shoulder lifted once more. “I doona fear taking chances. In fact, I am taking one right now.” He held out his hand. “Since ye’ve been ignoring me all evening, would ye dance with me now?”
“I was not…” She stopped before she said something that told him she knew each partner he’d had. Instead she put her hand in his, feeling his warm, strong fingers engulfing hers completely, sending a little tingle up her arm as he led her toward the dance floor. It was an allemande and one of her favorites. She resisted the urge to look at his legs and firmly pushed all thoughts of Alasdair’s legs out of her mind. Or, at least, she tried to. Every time they circled each other, coming within a hairbreadth of touching, and especially when they actually joined hands for some of the turns, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. When his gaze held hers during a more intricate step, her knees turned to jelly, causing Alasdair to steady her elbow, although she somehow managed not to stumble. Perhaps she could suggest she needed some air?
She caught Fiona watching her, which reminded her of their plans and brought her out of her fantasies. Theirplansdid not include encouraging Alasdair.
If she were going to have adventures this Season, she really needed to remember that.
…
“The Duke of Oakley’s landau has arrived,” Mount Stuart’s butler announced to Alasdair Saturday afternoon at precisely two o’clock.
“Thank ye.” Alasdair rose from the chair in the parlor and walked toward the door with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner being lead to the gallows. That might be a slight exaggeration, but the analogy of having the proverbial noose—albeit a parson’s—slipped around his neck was all too clear in his mind. Taking a turn around Hyde Park with the carriage’s top down—why could it not have been raining today? It always rained in London—was a declaration to all who could see that he intended to pay court. And half of Mayfair would be out on such a sunny day.
“You almost forgot your hat and gloves, Mr. MacGregor.”
“Thank ye,” Alasdair said again as he took them, wishing he could simply dispense with such formality and wear his kilt. But he’d already dared risking rebuke that first night at Almack’s. If the king had heard about it, he’d let it pass. Alasdair knew better than to tempt Fate again. So, for now, he would dress like a Sassenach.
“Enjoy your day, Mr. MacGregor.”
This time Alasdair simply nodded. He supposed there were advantages to being seen with Melissa in public. Anyone who saw him this afternoon would connect him with the duke, even though her father was currently near the Lothian border tending to business and he hadn’t yet met him. Alasdair was only too aware that once the deeds and land surveys had been gone through and sorted, he would still need a substantial number of votes in Parliament to get those claims transferred to MacGregors. The Duke of Oakley’s approval would go a long way to such, especially if Gavin were in London at his uncle’s request to dispute the five hundred hectares.
But he hadn’t intended tocourtanyone’s daughter to get that approval. Fiona had suggested it would be good for him to sign dance cards and make the acquaintance of Lady Melissa, since her father was a duke. He’d not expected anything like a carriage ride in Hyde Park to happen. It hadn’t been his idea, but he couldn’t deny he’d let himself be maneuvered into it. Lady Melissa was clever.
The lass he wanted was Lorelei Caldwell. Seeing her last night in an ivory silk gown that teased at a possible hint of cleavage had made him incredibly hard, and he’d wanted nothing more than to pull her into some dark corner and press her against him while he kissed her senseless. But Almack’s didn’t have dark corners.
He frowned in the mirror as he adjusted the damn hat. She’d danced right past him—with the Marquess of Westwood no less!—and hadn’t even glanced in his direction. After that dance, the man had spent a lot of time chatting with her while they stood near the refreshment table and then, she’d danced with himagain. That madetwice. And he had managed only one dance with her. It certainly didn’t look like the marquess was suffering from any kind of broken heart. It wouldn’t hurt, though, to warn Lorelei to be careful—that these gents often took advantage of young ladies.
His intention, when he’d asked her to dance, had been to do just that. But once she’d put her hand in his—so soft, so delicate—all thoughts of a lecture had vanished. Thank God the dance had been one that allowed them to interlace arms as they paraded back and forth across the hall. He’d enjoyed bringing her close, wishing he could actually brush against her. Catching a whiff of the light citrus scent of her hair had nearly intoxicated him.
His sister had also seemed to attract a swain, and Alasdair fully intended to inquire about him as well, but he’d had no time to stop by Lord Bute’s house since Wednesday night, because there were stacks of papers as high as Ben Nevis to be gone through. However, his calendar was clear for tomorrow and he would call on his sister and Lorelei early enough so they would still be in residence and make sure they both understood the perils of believing every flowery statement these young aristocrats made.
With that in mind, he pulled on his gloves, took a deep breath, and went outside to meet Melissa.
…
