Alasdair had hardly gotten past the door to White’s when he silently cursed. The bar area wasn’t that big and all the tables were already filled. The only one left with empty chairs was the one Gavin Campbell was sitting at.
He really didn’t need to deal with his nemesis right now. Campbell had already shown up several times at Mount Stuart’s office this week—with his own documents to counter any potential MacGregor claims. He was about to leave when Gavin waved him over.
“Ye are inviting me to sit?”
“I might as well, since I am drinking MacGregor whisky.” Gavin gestured to a seat. “I have to admit, it is fine whisky.”
Alasdair took the chair. “’Tis the best.”
He raised a brow. “Not bragging, are you?”
“Nae. ’Tis a fact.”
Gavin grinned. “I won’t dispute that.”
Alasdair looked at him suspiciously. “Ye are nae going to argue with me? When ye are so good at it?”
His grin widened. “I do hate to lose.”
“So do I.”
Luckily, Alasdair’s own whisky was brought, which interrupted what might have been the start of a challenge. He wanted to toss the whole dram down, but he contented himself with just half.
“I believe we will have two more,” Gavin told the waiter. When the man had gone, he turned back to Alasdair. “We probably should declare a truce.”
This time it was Alasdair who raised a brow. “Why would we do that?”
“It is generally considered bad form to show hostility in front of one’s hosts.”
Alasdair frowned. Besides Campbell sounding more English than the king himself, what in hell was he talking about? “Do ye care to explain yourself?”
Gavin shrugged. “I thought you knew. Lady Mount Stuart invited me to her whist party Sunday.”
He stifled a groan. He’d almost forgotten about that. Of course, she would have invited the nephew of the Duke of Argyll. She’d already invited the Butes, along with his sister and Lorelei. She’d invited the Marquess of Westwood and included Lady Melissa, since she was the daughter of a duke. It already sounded like a contentious group, and now Lady Mount Stuart was tossing Campbell into the mix.
“I would have thought faro or macao would be more to your liking.”
“They are, but I would not turn down an invitation from Lady Mount Stuart.” He waited as the waiter brought two more whiskys. “I assume your sister will be there?”
Alasdair knew when he was being baited. “Why is that your concern?”
“I told you.” Gavin gave him a bland smile. “I find your sister attractive.”
He felt himself tense. “Ye had best leave my sister alone.”
“I have no intention of taking advantage,” he answered, “but she did give me leave to call on her, if you remember.”
He did, damn it. And that reminded him of Fiona’sothercaller. “Ye can get in line then.”
Gavin’s smile faltered slightly. “What do you mean?”
Alasdair stifled a smirk. “Erik Taylor took her on a carriage ride Tuesday.”
Gavin stopped smiling and sat a little straighter. “Alone?”
“Nae. Lorelei went with them.”
“As a chaperone?” Gavin gave him an incredulous look. “’Tis like sending two bairns to a candy store.”
