Page 38 of Mated to the Mad Marquess

“Yes?” he said, elongating the word. His eyes narrowed. “What are you fishing at now?”

“Given the circumstances, perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I attempted to become better acquainted with Miss Susan and Miss Margot?”

“Ha. If I said no, Margot would never forgive me. She loves tall, beautiful women. And tall, beautiful men—anyone with long legs, really,” Malcolm said, chuckling. “I’m all done here. You can have your fun with my blessing, but maybe don’t attempt anything too strenuous. You don’t want to pop a stitch.” He patted her good shoulder and set to putting the medical tools back in their slots.

Elspeth craned her neck to inspect the wound. It looked red and irritated, but the suture had stopped the bleeding. “You butchered me.”

He snorted at her. “It’ll get the job done.”

“I’m trying to woo a woman here,” she teased.

“Women love scars.”

“Sure we do, but this doesn’t look like a scar. It looks like I’ve got an angry eyebrow growing out of my shoulder.”

Malcolm shrugged. “Then maybe don’t let Margot see your shoulder.”

“Fine.” Elspeth bandaged the suture with a playful sigh. “But there go all my best seduction tactics.”

* * *

Malcolm changed his clothes into something more befitting a marquess before he joined his impromptu guests in the parlor. Margot waved off the footman and helped herself to the liquor cabinet. Susan sat in an armchair nearest the serving cart of cakes and refreshments. Elspeth, he noticed, had chosen the sofa closest to the fireplace. One that did not put her in the best vantage point for speaking with Margot, but certainly presented an excellent view of the lovely courtesan’s voluptuous profile.

Solis cast his shadow across the rug before him, defying the firelight. Malcolm filled a glass of wine and came to stand at Elspeth’s elbow. “How goes your conquest?”

“I’m playing hard to get,” Elspeth whispered. “It’s my best tactic, actually. Not the shoulder thing. I was teasing before.”

That wasn’t a game he could get behind. He preferred a straightforward woman, himself. Someone who wasn’t afraid to share their mind.

Or break his nose.

“Has playing hard to get worked on all your lovers?” Malcolm asked, watching Margot blow dust off a bottle of port from the corner of his eye.

“With men? Yes, always. Now, with women . . .” Elspeth glanced up at him, eyes as blue as her hair and deceptively innocent. She smiled toothily. “Also yes.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. Along the rug, Solis sidled in closer to their friend, soaking in her presence. In so many ways, Elspeth and her sisters were some of the only family he had left. He’d like it if she visited more but never had quite the right words to say so. He wasn’t any good at expressing sentiment, even if he was perfectly capable of feeling it profoundly, in spite of his best efforts to snuff out that sort of thing.

“Be serious for a moment,” he told her, lowering his voice.

Elspeth perked at that. “What’s the problem?”

“The prisoner I keep here. My mate. There’s something you ought to know so long as you’re here as my guest . . .”

“Oh, do tell us all about your mate, Malcolm,” Susan drawled. Startled, Elspeth’s head snapped up, Malcolm’s with it. The clever madam hid her smile behind a steaming cup of tea. “We’ve heard all the rumors, and we’re dying to know.”

“Funny thing about the fae,” Margot said, breaking the seal on the port and ignoring the drinking glasses, sipping it straight from the bottle. She rounded the bar, headed for the sofa. “They have such excellent hearing compared to us lowly humans, they forget we’re not completely deaf.”

“You’re not being as quiet as you think you are, love.” Susan added cream to her cup, eyes sparkling with mischief. “We can hear you. Especially when we’re right in the same room.”

Margot plopped down next to Elspeth, holding out her bottle to share. “Good news for you, sweetheart. First tumble with me is free.”

Malcolm’s brow furrowed. “I don’t recall that being a rule with any of the other friends I’ve introduced you to.”

Margot’s hazel eyes dragged over Lady Elspeth. “Yes, but your other friends weren’t beautiful women with long legs who killed a wolf for me.”

“Saw that, did you?” Elspeth said with feigned calm, taking the offered port in hand. She stole a swallow, then gagged. “Oh gods,” she groaned, swiping at her mouth with her sleeve. “I forgot how much I hate port.”

Margot’s head flew back. She cackled at the ceiling, sending her dark brown curls tumbling around her shoulders.

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