“Very much.” Gavin grinned. “I had the company of two lovely ladies at my table.”
Alasdair felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. Exactly how much did Campbell enjoy Fiona’s company? Or was the man goading him?
“I did as well.”
Campbell laughed. “It looked like only one of the ladies at your table was paying any attention to you.”
He managed to keep his expression impassive. Had it been that obvious that Lorelei and Westwood had eyes only for each other? “My opponents were determined to win.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course, so were we.”
“If you say so.”
“’Twas a card party. Why would I nae concentrate on that?” He raised one brow slightly. “I noticed your rival at the table was nae paying attention to the cards so I assume ye and Louisa won?”
A spark of anger flared in Gavin’s eyes although it was extinguished almost instantly and covered by a slight smile. “Taylor did not win.”
Alasdair studied him for a moment. Did he mean Taylor didn’t win the rubber or didn’t win the battle for Fiona’s attention? Blast the man for being deliberately ambiguous.
“Well, he will have another chance,” Mount Stuart said, “since my wife intends to host more of such parties.”
At the moment, Alasdair didn’t care about who won atcards. Not only was he bedeviled by Westwood fawning over Lorelei, he was also at odds about who was winning Fiona’s affection. Neither current choice boded well, as far as he was concerned.
It might be time to have a talk with his sister.
Chapter Eleven
“I doona ken why ’tis your business who is showing me attention,” Fiona told Alasdair on Tuesday afternoon as they sat in the Bute’s parlor. She wore a decidedly mulish expression.
“I doona like Campbell sniffing at your skirts.”
Fiona widened her eyes. “He is naesniffing—”
“What?” Alasdair managed to keep—just barely—from bellowing. “Has he tried to take liberties with ye?”
Her look turned to annoyance. “He is our neighbor and has kenned where I live for years. He is trying to annoy ye and ye are letting him.”
There might be some truth to that. It was hard to concentrate on deeds and tracts and maps when Campbell was tossing out innuendos. Alasdair nodded. “Ye may be right.”
“Iamright.”
He wasn’t going to argue the point. “What about Erik Taylor then?”
She rolled her eyes again. “What of him?”
“He is nae our neighbor. We ken nothing about him.”
“He owns a shipping line.”
“Aye, but ’tis all we ken. How did he even get an invitation to Almack’s in the first place?”
Fiona shrugged. “I suppose some aristocrat sponsored him, same as Lord Mount Stuart did for ye.”
“Aye, but who was it?”
“I doona ken, but I like him.” Fiona pointed a finger at him. “I doona want ye interfering.”
“I am your brother. That gives me a right.”
“Nae. It doesna.”
