Page 23 of Sinful Scottish Laird
Daisy held out her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Somerled.”
He took her hand and bowed elegantly. “You will forgive me for coming in my parents’ stead,” he said. His voice was not as heavily accented as some the Scots she’d met thus far; he sounded more like Arrandale. “It is too wet for them to travel and bid me to come on their behalf and welcome you to the Highlands.”
Ah, yes, the excuse of weather. She could imagine the scene in some rustic highland dining room, this man with his aging parents, both of them wrapped in plaid before a fire.Go and see what sort of fortune it is, lad.
“Thank you for coming,” Daisy said. She invited him inside with the Murrays. Her head was spinning with the fact that men she’d not invited had come to her supper. Belinda was right—they’d obviously heard of her predicament, and with the exception of the Murrays, the rest of her favorable replies had sent their best prospects for tapping into her fortune.
It was maddening, disheartening—she thought she’d escaped that constant bother! But there was no escaping it. Not even as far away as the Scottish Highlands.
All the guests were gathered in the great room, and she’d have to make the best of it. Fortunately, Daisy was an accomplished hostess; she made sure that they all had drinks, that their wet cloaks were taken to be dried, that the fire in the hearth was roaring to chase the chill from their bones and that there was quite a lot of chatter about the condition of the road to Auchenard.
“Madam?” It was Rowley at her elbow again. “More guests.”
“Are there?” Daisy turned about, and warmth waved through her—Arrandale. She tried to hide her ridiculous level of pleasure. She tried not to ogle his commanding figure in trews and boots and the dark blue superfine coat. And while he stoked salacious thoughts that fluttered through Daisy like dandelions, she was determined the bloody rooster would not know of her admiration.
Besides, he’d come with a lovely young woman with blond hair. Now she understood why he was reluctant to engage in the art of trifling. She had to admire him for staying true to the girl.
Daisy smiled at her popinjay of a neighbor. Naturally, he did not smile, but he inclined his head. “My lord Arrandale,” she said. “You havesurprisedme. I had not received your favorable reply.”
His companion glanced up at him, but Arrandale didn’t seem to notice her at all. “My apologies, Lady Chatwick. I had no’ intended to burden you with my presence, but my sister, Miss Catriona Mackenzie, would no’ be put off of it.”
His sister!Daisy almost tittered with delight. Now that she had a look at the girl, she did seem awfully young for what she assumed was Arrandale’s terribly advanced age. “Miss Mackenzie, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You are most welcome at Auchenard.”
“Thank you,” the young woman said and curtsied. Her eyes fixed on Daisy’s tower of hair; she seemed impressed by it. But then her gaze slid past Daisy to the others in the room.
“Please,” Daisy said, gesturing to the others. “Shall I introduce you?”
“No, thank you,” she said. “I am acquainted, aye?” She smiled and curtsied to Daisy once more, then flit into the room, her head high.
Daisy glanced at Arrandale sidelong as they watched his sister greet the MacDonalds. “You came,” she said simply.
“Aye, I was coerced by my sister. She has set her sights on Edward Fraser and there appears naugh’ that will stop her.”
“Edward Fraser never responded to my invitation. Perhaps, he, too, will suddenly appear at the door.”
“I doubt it,” he said. “He intends to offer for Nan Gordon. Cat has no’ yet accepted her fate in this. As you have undoubtedly noted, the Highlands are no’ teeming with bachelors.”
“I’ve noticed no such thing,” she said primly.
“Nevertheless, I see you’ve left no stone unturned.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you’ve gathered the local bachelors in dire need of a fortune, have you no’?”
She frowned. “That was not my intent.”
He chuckled softly, the sound wrapping around her.“Sealbh math dhuit.”At her look of confusion, he leaned closer and whispered, “Good luck.” He gave her an enigmatic smile—but a smile all the same—and stepped away, accepting the offer of whisky from Rowley.
Daisy gaped at his back. That man wasastonishinglyrude. Granted, he was right, most of the bachelors had been sent by their mothers to sniff out her fortune, but he didn’t have to be so gleeful about it. With a sniff, Daisy moved into the crowd of guests with her back intentionally set to Lord Arrandale and the tiny little pleasure that she had, at last, made him smile.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEBONNIESTWOMENwere always the most dangerous.
In his life, Cailean had trained men how to fight, he’d sailed ships through rough seas, he’d outmaneuvered English ships and run for a hidden cove with smuggled cargo. Aye, he was a strong man...but he was damnably weak when it came to the fairer sex.
He’d meant to keep himself at a safe distance from Auchenard, but here he was, in Lady Chatwick’s great room, in the midst of fawning idiots.
