“That is so kind of you,” Lady Bute said. “I fear it might be a bit difficult trying to keep track of three young ladies all by myself.”
“Ye doona need to fash about that any longer, my lady. Just say the word and I will be here.”
“I appreciate that,” the countess said.
From their expressions, his sister and Lorelei didn’t appreciate his “help” at all. So it would be a challenge, then. He felt a prickle of anticipation. He was looking forward to it.
…
“Damnaidh! Contrachd! An Diabhail!”
Fiona stomped around their bedchamber after Alasdair had left. Lorelei didn’t have to understand Gaelic to know she was swearing a storm.
“It is bloody hell that he’s here.” She used the worst word she could think of, but it seemed mild compared to Fiona’s ranting.
“Aye!Chan eil mi a ‘tuigsinn…” Fiona shook her head and translated. “I doona understand why Alasdair, of all people, is in London.”
Lorelei frowned. “He did say he had land legalities to work out.”
“My brother Carr usually does those…but no… He’s in Inverness.” Fiona flopped into a chair. “’Tis just our luck. Ye ken Alasdair is a bit sweet on ye.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Why do you say that?”
“He rescued ye from that horrible Neal Cameron, nae? And, he rode back to Strae Castle with ye and Juliana after your gowns were ruined.”
She remembered that ride…and what had happened later. He’d known she was upset because she had missed the first real ball in the Highlands—given by the Duke of Argyll, no less—so he’d offered to dance with her around Strae Castle’s Great Hall—had even roused a fiddler to provide the music. And then later, when they’d stepped outside to take in some cool air, he’d kissed her. He hadn’t lingered long…just enough for her to feel how warm and firm his lips were as they swept sensually across her mouth. He’d taken a step back but had been close enough for her to slap him properly, but that thought had not entered her head. Instead, she’d been a bit dazed. She couldstillremember that kiss, much as she’d tried to dismiss it. But the more she tried…
Lorelei shook her head to clear it of that kiss. “He was just being a gentleman.”
Fiona gave her a skeptical look. “Aye, Alasdair has always had an eye for the ladies, but he dinna have to leave the Campbell banquet because of a ruined gown.”
She had to admit that had not been necessary. As Fiona mentioned, Alasdair was the brother who most easily flirted, and the next morning he had acted as though nothing had happened. “Seeing us home that night was just a nice thing for him to do. It does not signify anything.”
“Mayhap.” Fiona hiked up her skirts to drape one leg over the armrest. “But he will hover over us. That will ruin the plans for our adventures.”
“That is true. Too bad one of Louisa’s older married sisters isn’t here to accompany us. A married chaperone would negate any reason for Alasdair to escort us.”
“Although he’ll still be at the social events, sticking like mud to us.” Fiona sighed, then suddenly straightened. “I think I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“Well, Louisa asked if I were here to find a wealthy or titled gentleman to ensure the MacGregor name would be accepted, remember?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything? Do you want an English husband?”
“Nae. I doona ken. It depends, I guess.” She waved a hand. “’Tis nae the point.”
“I am confused.”
“Hmmm.” Fiona hopped out of the chair and resumed pacing. “What if we find Alasdair an heiress to court? That would distract him.”
Lorelei frowned, although she saw Fiona’s point. Still. The idea of Alasdair escorting another girl outside for “cool air” on a dark terrace—and maybe stealing a kiss—didn’t sit well. Her frown deepened. “That is rather mercenary.”
“We are nae forcing him to marry, although ye did say the Season was exactly for that purpose, nae?”
She drew her brows even closer together. “What I meant wastitledmen, who have entailed properties, need dowries to support them. Fathers provide those dowries so their daughters—actually, their grandsons—will inherit a title,” she answered. “Alasdair is not titled.”
“Nae, but now that Strae Castle and its holdings belong to the MacGregors again, we have wealth. Your sister, Emily, increased sales from our whisky distillery, too. Even the gentlemen’s clubs in London are buying it.” She took a breath. “Alasdair wouldna need a dowry. There must be some father out there who would be glad to hear that…and allow my brother to pay court.”
