Page 51 of A Bonny Pretender
“Aye.”
“Cheers.” Frank’s head was spinning just a little. Tiny. Bit. He wasn’t sure if it was the new revelations about his future wife or the liquor or both.
Colin wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss.” He glanced at Lachlan, who nodded. “Ye must tell her who ye really are before ye’re betrothed.”
The air left his lungs. How did they know? Lady Brecken had told her sister… who told her husband.Confound it.
“Frank, we dinna judge a mon’s beginnings. There’s nothing to be ashamed about when it comes to yer parentage. Ye had no part in it.” Lachlan leaned forward, his blue eyes intense. “Accept who ye are, and ye’ll be a stronger mon for it.”
“And just think, it makes him yer brother-in-law twice over,” added Colin.
“I ken ye’re no’ on speaking terms with Sir Horace, but trust me that he’ll come round,” said Lachlan. “He’s a mon with integrity and honor. He’ll do right by ye.”
Frank had his doubts. Lady Brecken had said almost the same. “I would welcome a relationship with him. I’ve grown close to Lady Brecken and immediately liked your wife.”
“Ye’re like bloody twins,” Lachlan grumbled. “How could no one figure it out? Are the English all so dense?”
Frank laughed. “I suppose we only see what we’re looking for.”
Colin held up a hand. The humor had left his face, and he nodded to a table near the door. “Does that bufflehead seem familiar?” he asked his cousin.
“Aye, and he has a scar on his forehead.” Lachlan rubbed his own. “I do believe we’ve met.”
“Shall we ask him to join us?” Frank would welcome any friend of his drinking chums. “I’ll buy the next bottle.”
Colin shook his head. “He’s a paid rabble rouser. Goes from factory to factory trying to get the workers riled up. He was on our dock a few months back, and we gave him and his cronies a good skelping.”
“A perfect Glasgow Kiss,” Lachlan agreed with a laugh.
“A Glasgow Kiss?” Frank had a feeling it wasn’t soft or romantic. And how the hell did they drink so much and sound so sober?
“An old-fashioned headbutt. Och, he’s spotted us.” Colin smacked his fist in his palm and cracked his knuckles.
Lachlan put both hands on his head and turned it to one side, then the other, making little popping noises. Good God, they were ready for a fight. Frank looked to the side and found Barker gone.Damnation.
“Where’d ye get that mark on yer head, mon?” Lachlan yelled across the room. The voices died down. “It’s a wee scar. Can I make it bigger, so it’s easier to see?”
The man stood up, the freckles standing out on his pale face. “If ye’re mon enough to try it.” Half a dozen men rose with him.
Double hell and damnation.
Frank stood and shook out his arms, issuing a silent thanks to the blacksmith who’d trained him. He grinned. He hadn’t been in a real brawl since university. The attempted robbery had been life or death. This would be a veritable release of tension. He rubbed his knuckles, still raw from that day. “Two to one. Not bad odds,” he said to the MacNaughtons.
Lachlan grunted. “Colin counts for two.”
“Take it outside, or I’ll call the constable. Ye can sleep it off in jail or in the alley. Yer choice,” called the beefy barkeep. “I’ll no’ have ye breaking up my establishment.”
To Frank’s surprise, the men headed to the door.How civilized!he thought. He stepped outside and a fist caught him on the side of his jaw. He stumbled, righted himself, and caught his opponent under the chin with his left. So much for polite. The man tottered; Frank planted a facer, and the man fell backwards. He turned to see another catch Colin in the gut. With a grunt, the huge Scot picked the man up by his collar and smashed his fist into his nose. Blood spurted out as the man’s head drooped. Colin dropped him with athump.
Frank’s head snapped from another blow, this time to his eye, and returned the hit with a solid punch to the cur’s ribs. When he doubled over, Frank caught him in the jaw and sent him flying on his arse. Colin and Lachlan were both finishing off their second man when reinforcements appeared from the alley. A pair circled Colin, and two grabbed Lachlan by the arms.
The redhead with the scar stepped from behind and grinned. “Whose turn to get marked now?” He pulled a knife from his boot.
Frank lunged forward, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it backwards. Bone snapped, and the dirk fell to the ground. The man cried out, grabbing his dangling wrist with his good hand. “Ye’ll pay for this, ye foulsome wretches.”
Lachlan wrenched free, giving Frank another man to take down. Colin stepped in, and that was that. Frank bent over, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His knuckles were raw, his jaw hurt, one eye was swelling, and he’d never felt so alive.
*
