Page 6 of Her Magnificent Mistake
“Tostinham can only come to me—or one of your female cousins—if there are no male heirs left. And guess what, Uncle?”
“I am the last male heir,” he bit out. Deciding it was easier not to look at her when discussing serious topics, Hawk scanned the crowd, searching for their hostess.Searching for an escape.“Which means ye are my heir. I have nae need for a wife who is only marrying me for my title, because there’s nae other reason for her to look twice at a man like me.” A man who was happier in the woods than a ballroom, who didn’t understand the games Society played with changeable rules and no prizes. “I have ye.”
After a moment, he felt her small hand on his arm. “I am flattered, Uncle Maxwell. Thank you. But I have my own goals. Goals that do not necessarily involve Tostinham.”
He shot her a glance. “And dinnae involve husbands?”
To his surprise, she burst into laughter. “I have nothing against husbands—or men in general. In fact, I have every intention of enjoying myself, now I am finally out of school. I just do not see any need for that enjoyment to includemarriageso soon.”
Ruefully, Hawk shook his head. He’d tried so hard to stay out of Allie’s life as she was growing, so she’d have proper influences. Influences of people who weren’t like him, people who understood Society and what was acceptable.
So how in the hell had she turned out exactly like him?
Thank fook she’s far prettier.
“Neither of us belong here, do we?” he muttered.
“Thatis what I have been trying to tell you!” Her tone was exasperated…with a hint of fondness underlying it.
Cursing under his breath, Hawk slung his arm around Allie’s shoulders and pulled her into a half-hug, even knowing how improper it was. “I do love ye, lassie. I hope ye ken that.”
She harumphed and smoothed her skirts…but didn’t push him away. “At the risk of becoming maudlin, I am rather fond of you, Uncle Maxwell, when you are not abandoning me for years.”
“Abandoning—? I did what was right.” Dammit, ithadbeen the right choice—theonlychoice!
His niece—his feisty, over-educated and under-cherished niece—took a deep breath, and Hawk braced himself for the tirade which was coming. Which he deserved.
But instead, Allie’s chin snapped up. “Oh, look, here comes Lady Mistree, and she’s bringing…is that not your friend? He met us here in London when we visited two summers ago. He also has an animal name. Hedgehog? Vole? Hamster?”
Hawk was already grinning as he straightened away from her, gaze sweeping the room. “Bull,” he announced in satisfaction, spying his long-time friend escorting the hobbling elderly lady toward them. “He’s no’ named after a rodent.”
“Oh, yes, silly me. A Hawk could eat a vole, but not a Bull. And who is that with him?”
And just like that, his heart stopped.
Oh, fook.
“That…She is his sister, the Lady Marcia.”
The woman he’d lost ten years ago; his best friend’s younger sister.
Marcia couldhearher own heartbeat, which shouldn’t be possible. Should it? Was it broken? She made a mental note to ask Gabby next time she saw her pseudo-cousin. Gabby had studied zoology and biology at Bedford here in London, and even traveled to America to study veterinary sciences there for a year, but surely she’d know enough about the mammalian nervous system to know?—
Breathe, you idiot!
Ah. Yes, that would be helpful. Lungs. Air.
Straightening her spine, Marcia sucked in several deep breaths and kept her focus on the back of her brother’s head…and not where he was leading them.
Focus, focus. Lady Mistreeasked for this escort for a reason!
“You have always been my favorite, young Bull,” Lady Mistree was saying as she shuffled along, clinging to Marcia’s brother’s arm. Her white hair was pulled into an elaborate style at the base of her neck, popular decades before, with diamond pins studded throughout. Her gown, on the other hand, was surprisingly fashionable for a woman nearing her tenth decade. “If I were twenty years younger…”
Bull, being Bull, flirted right back. “If ye were twenty years younger, milady, ye’d be a mere eighty years auld, and married to the love of yer life, remember?”
“Oh, Reggie,” sighed the elderly lady, smiling wistfully at Marcia’s brother. “You remind me ever so much of him. Of course, that was when we were young and his knees had not gone all flabby and he could still wear a kilt with nothing on underneath it.”
Marcia was only a little surprised to see a hint of longing in her brother’s eyes as he lifted Lady Mistree’s hand to press a kiss on the back of it. Hewasthe most incredible actor, but the kindness in his expression was not false. “Yer Reggie must’ve been a remarkable man, to hold yer heart for so long. I only wish I were worthy?—”
