Page 48 of A Bonny Pretender
“We will?” grunted Colin.
“You will,” repeated Mrs. MacNaughton. “And we will all gather at Mrs. Douglas’s for dinner on Sunday.” She looked at Frank. “That’s my grandmother.”
“Who makes the best shortbread,” verified Frank.
“I’d almost marry the woman to have a piece of that every day,” said Colin with a sigh. “But I believe MacGregor would have my ballocks for breakfast if I did.”
“He’s verra protective of her,” agreed Brigid.
The knot in Frank’s stomach tightened. Alone with this behemoth and Brigid’s brother. To interrogate him or scare him off? It didn’t matter. He’d get through it because the prize was worth anything they’d put him through.
*
That evening
The Black Bull Inn
Frank sat atthe wooden table, his back in the corner, facing the door. Wheels crunched along the street, a donkey brayed, pots clanged, and glasses clinked as the bartender served the crowd. So many conversations were going on at once that one could have a private conversation, despite the number of patrons. He’d come down early and ordered three bumpers. Now he sat, his chest tight, mouth grim, and fists clenched. Ready for the attack he was sure to come.
Barker had chosen a conservative waistcoat and minor cravat for the evening.Afraid they’ll take me for an English dandy,he thought with a frown.
The big, dark Scot lumbered through the door first. The second man, wearing the same pattern kilt as the first, was undeniably Brigid’s brother. Same color hair, nose, high cheek bones. And those brilliant blue eyes. Would their own children inherit the MacNaughton coloring? A vision of a wispy blonde-haired, blue-eyed child swept past him.
Don’t let the cart pass the horse.
“There he is,” mumbled Colin, pointing a shoulder at Frank’s table. “This is Lord Raines.” He nodded at the shorter Scot. “This is Lachlan MacNaughton.”
Frank stood and held out his hand. They shook, nodded, and all three sat down.
“I took the liberty of ordering some ale.” He held up his bumper. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“We’ll see,” Lachlan said cheerfully. “It might be a long night, though. Hope ye’re up to it, Sassenach.”
His jaw clenched. He’d only play the victim for so long. His temper was known to snap on occasion too. “Did you care for a meal?”
Colin shook his head. “And ruin the fine scotch whisky we plan to drink?”
Both Scots took a long pull of their ale. Colin waved to the barmaid, who seemed to know him from her wide smile. “The best whisky ye’ve got, my bonny lass!”
She made her way through the tables and groups of men with a dramatic sashay. With athunk, the bottle hit the table while her chest pushed dangerously close to Colin’s chin. His eyes lowered to the cleavage then up to the bar maid. He winked. “Keep an eye on us, lass. We’re thirsty tonight.”
“Happy to,” she said saucily and flounced away.
Lachlan reached over and grabbed the bottle. Pulling the cork, he sniffed the contents and sighed. He tipped it back for a long swallow, wiped his mouth, and passed it to Colin. His cousin did the same. Colin handed the bottle to Frank, who shook his head. The disapproval in the MacNaughtons’ eyes was evident.
“Weel, let’s get straight to the point,” said Lachlan. “Ye love my sister?”
He was taken aback by the abruptness. So, this was how it would be. Frank reached for the bottle and took a drink. It was harsher than the brandy he preferred, but it would do the trick. “I want to marry her.”
“Her da is dead. So ye must pass muster with us. Then the chief, her grandda, willna be a problem,” said Colin. “We, on the other hand, are always a problem.”
Lachlan guffawed and grabbed the bottle. “Why?” he asked Frank.
“Why?” That stumped him.
“Why do ye want to wed her?” Lachlan handed him the bottle.
Frank tipped it back and concentrated on his burning throat. He’d expected an interrogation of his family, estate, financial situation. But notwhy. “I-I enjoy her company.”
