Page 40 of Deception and Desire
“I couldna stop the chit once she’d made her mind up. She’s inherited my stubbornness, I’m afraid.” Aileen’s gaze traveled from the man’s auburn hair, past his chiseled features, down his dark waistcoat and kilt, to his stockings and shoes. She transferred her scrutiny to Fenella and then back to Lachlan.
Drat! It must be written all over my face,she thought, as a slow smile appeared on her grandmother’s face.
“She’s been quite happy in her new position,” Aileen continued. “Did ye have a pleasant ride through town?”
Fenella found her voice. “Oh yes, Grandmama. And Lachlan had Malcolm, the boy I told you about, ride along with us. So, you need not worry about any impropriety. It was all… very business-like.” She closed her eyes. That sounded ridiculous.
“Glad to hear it, lass,” Aileen acknowledged. She focused her attention on the Scot. “Would ye care to dine with us on Sunday afternoon? Nothing fancy, but tasty and filling.”
“I would be honored, Mrs. Douglas.”
“Please invite Colin, too. I’m sure Grandmama would like to meet him as well,” Fenella added, in a rush. Why was she suddenly self-conscious in front of her grandmother?
Because the woman could read her too well. One look and the words would tumble from Fenella’s mouth.
“It’s a day off for both of us, and I’m sure he’d enjoy the company and the meal.” Lachlan bowed again, his eyes now lingering on Fenella. “Until Sunday, then?”
She nodded, watching his Adam’s apple move up and down his corded throat as he swallowed. The ties on his shirt had come loose, and she could glimpse the springy brown hair on his chest. Her tongue turned thick; her heart raced. An elbow jabbed her arm.
“Yes, Sunday,” she murmured.
Chapter Eleven
A Dinner and A Dalliance
“Why amIgoing?” complained Colin as he lifted his chin and dragged the razor over his lower jaw. “I didna want to shave today.”
“Mrs. Douglas invited ye, and we’re no’ in a position to decline. Do ye want to lose our new accountant?”
“I’m no’ an eejit. Ye’re besotted and need me to help ease yer way.” He glared at Lachlan’s reflection. “Admit it, ye’re high on the ropes when she’s around.”
“Stop yer bletherin and get dressed. Put on yer dress kilt, as I have, and wear a shirt that’s no’ too rumpled.” Lachlan stood, hands on hips, realizing he sounded like his mother. “And aye, I like the lass. She’s…”
“A gooolden angel,” finished Colin, raising his eyes and hands to the ceiling in mock prayer.
“Dinna start with that again.”
“So, I have to get cleaned up and wearmycourtin’ clothes because my cousin finally wants to woo a woman. Why could ye no’ decide to become a gentleman when ye were at home?” He snatched up the MacNaughton tartan of red, dark green, and blue, fastening it around his shirttails and yelled, “Ye’ll owe me for this.”
Lachlan heard the last words and hollered back as he retreated down the hall. “I’ll bring the horses around. Ye’ve got twenty minutes, ye whining ninny.”
*
The pair leftthe townhouse on High Street and headed toward the neighborhood of Grahamston. Lachlan patted Charlie’s neck. The chestnut gelding nickered, enjoying the extra outing. As they entered the busy crossroads area of Boots Corner, Lachlan slowed his mount and rode next to his cousin’s massive steed. The horse could have pulled three wagons, which was why he’d been chosen. A man of Colin’s size would look ridiculous on a smaller animal.
“Any news on our friend Pelling?” he asked, squinting at the afternoon sun as he looked up at Colin. “Ye were at the Pigeon til the wee hours.”
“Nay, it seems he’s disappeared. I wonder how often he’s done this, and if he uses different monikers.” His jaw twitched. “By Christ, if we catch him—”
“We’re to save a piece of his hide for McPherson,” finished Lachlan.
They passed a market garden and left the light commercial district behind, entering the quieter residential area. There were several carriages parked in front of brick or timber homes. Residents were enjoying the mild May weather and a leisurely afternoon stroll after Sunday service. It was a pretty street with flowering shrubs along the property borders. Bluebells and sweet purple violets bloomed on window ledges. Lachlan pulled Charlie to a stop near the two-story red brick townhouse. White lace curtains covered the downstairs window, pulled back today to let in the afternoon light.
MacGregor strode around the corner of the house and greeted them. He pulled his wool cap tightly over his faded red hair, scratching at his matching beard.
“Mrs. Douglas is expecting ye,” he said, and held the bridles of both geldings. “I’ll take yer horses for ye. There’s a livery just down the street where we keep our own.”
Both men dismounted. “I dinna believe we’ve formally met. I’m Lachlan MacNaughton, and this is my cousin Colin of the same clan.”
