On their ten-minute walk home, Louisa chatted about a treatise she’d found by Joseph Priestley, a philosopher, theologian, and chemist, that more or less confirmed what Lorelei had been thinking. It certainly wasn’t poetry or even fiction, which would be considered acceptable.Hartley’s Theory of the Human Mindsounded like reading material in which only a professor at an institution of higher learning might be interested. She could just about imagine the looks on the faces of potential dance partners at Almack’s if Louisa were to broach the subject. Lorelei’s suspicions about attendance at the Bluestocking Society were further confirmed by the change of subject and expression as they approached the front steps of the town house. Louisa suddenly started chatting about the shops on Bond Street, a smile pasted to her face.
Lorelei adopted a smile, too, since Louisa obviously wanted her mother—or at least Belton—to think the three of them had been having a lark of a day. The smile disappeared when she heard the sound of a deep masculine voice coming from the parlor. One that made her stomach feel as though it were full of fluttering butterflies with a definite Scottish burr and perhaps a bit of Irish brogue as well.
She exchanged a wide-eyed look with Fiona. “What in the world is Alasdair doing here?”
…
Alasdair heard their laughter as they entered the foyer, even though he couldn’t see them, and then the sound died as footsteps approached. Evidently either his sister or Lorelei had recognized his voice. That did not bode particularly well for his welcome.
He caught himself before he could square his shoulders and look defensive. Instead, he made sure to keep his attention focused on Lady Bute, so it would appear he was fascinated with discussing the changing spring weather in London. He could almost hear his brothers snorting about changes inLondon’sweather. In a Highlands spring, one could experience all four seasons on any given day. But he had spent time in Edinburgh when the Scottish Court was in session, so he kept his expression politely affixed to the conversation.
Fiona burst into the room first, not mincing any words. “What are ye doing here?”
He couldn’t help but feel a stirring when he saw Lorelei follow his sister in. Strands of her pale gold hair had come undone and floated about her face, giving her an ethereal look, only enhanced by the light, nearly silver, color of her eyes. He could gaze into those eyes forever. However, Lorelei was looking somewhat mutinous as well, so he chose to focus on the third member of their party as he rose. “Do I have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Lady Louisa Bute?” he asked with a short bow.
All three of them blinked at him. Fiona narrowed her eyes suspiciously while Lorelei simply gaped at him. He resisted the urge to smirk at both of them. He knew how to be mannerly as well as the next sod. Louisa seemed flustered, though, and he wondered at that. Was the lass not used to attention?
“Louisa,” her mother prodded. “This is Mr. MacGregor, Fiona’s brother. He’ll be staying with your brother for the Season.”
Her face cleared, the mild rebuke obviously reminding her of her own manners. “Since you are Fiona’s brother, please call me Louisa.”
He gave her a genuine smile. He’d not expected the daughter of a former Prime Minister to be so informal. “And ye would do me an honor by calling me Alasdair.” That drew another suspicious look from his sister, although Lorelei had her mouth firmly clapped shut.
“I am not sure that is proper,” Louisa responded.
He continued to smile easily. “Mayhap nae in public then. But…” He allowed a glance in Lorelei’s direction. “I will probably be spending a good deal of time—”
“Why are ye here anyway?” Fiona interrupted.
He turned to his tenacious sister. “Since we have regained our rightful name, there are legal formalities that need to be seen to. ’Tis easier to do while Parliament is in session.”
“You will be…staying…for the Season?” Lorelei asked.
Her tone was light, but the fact that she’d hesitated made him wonder if she were not happy about the idea. That was a dilemma to be solved later. He kept his smile. “For the whole Season, lass.” From the quick exchange of looks between Lorelei and Fiona, he suspected they’d already begun making nefarious plans. All the better he was in London.
Fiona narrowed her eyes again. “Where do ye plan to stay?”
He caught the worried look Lorelei gave his sister, which made him even more sure they were in the midst of plotting. It was a pity he couldn’t stay in the same house with them.
“Lord Mount Stuart, Lady Bute’s son, offered me a room, since it will make working with him easier.”
“It sounds like you will be quite busy then,” Lorelei said.
He gave her an amiable grin. “Nae so busy I canna check on ye…and my sister.”
“We doona need checking on,” Fiona retorted.
“Of course we do not,” Lorelei added.
Which only made him sure theydid.
“All the same, since Lord Mount Stuart assures me he will provide introductions—much needed—I will definitely be attending social events.”
“Perhaps Mr. MacGregor could escort us occasionally?” Lady Bute asked.
He smiled again. “It would be only proper for me to escort the ladies whenever I am able.”
Fiona scowled and Lorelei studied something in the air above his head, looking as if she might be trying to hide a smile. Was she? Neither of them had to speak. He’d probably thwarted at least half their plans.
