Page 69 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“My boots have never left my feet,” Nash interjected as he pointedly raised his foot so they could see.
Lady Callum shook her head at him. “At least everyone else will soon be as festive as you, dear Lord Torrington, so I am sure you will not stand out. Cook has come to fill the punch bowl thrice now.”
“I fear I might not have a home if this group gets topsy-turvy,” Harcourt said, misgiving written on his face.
Nash grunted. “You should have thought about that when you served that punch.”
“It is meant to be sipped, not downed by the bucket.” Harcourt shook his head as he rose. “I shall tell the staff to cut back on the spirits in the punch, or I shall have patrons sleeping in their carriages.”
Nash watched his friend hurry off as if he were going to prevent some great calamity. He cleared his throat and eyed the lady standing over him. She really was lovely. “Lady Callum, please sit with me while I recuperate.”
Lady Callum inclined her head and accepted his offer. “I am quite sorry we got separated earlier. What a state it has left you in.”
“Indeed,” Nash agreed. “We should endeavour to make sure that we never part again.”
“Lord Torrington, I do think that might be an impossible thing to manage even for a man of your stature. At least until we are wed.”
“Then we shall be wed post-haste,” he said reasonably. “Although I do think my mother will be put out if she does not get to throw her engagement party.”
Lady Callum nodded. “It shall be quite odd to be around her now. Before I was so concerned with not hurting her feelings that I fear I might have given her the impression that I did not want to be around her.”
“Then you are one of the family already,” Nash jested.
Lady Callum clicked her tongue. “That is quite horrible. I feel poorly for the woman now more than ever.”
“Oh, bother. That means my brother will have to come to London,” Nash said aloud when he had meant the thought for his own mind.
Her fingers brushed her hair out of her face as she raised an eyebrow at him, as if trying to discern his reason for alarm. “Is your brother an ogre?”
“No, not really.” He sighed. “He is just a little brother. They are as they are.”
“Ah, so a fellow younger sibling who is toiling in obscurity,” Lady Callum said with a smile. “I think I shall get along with him.”
Nash snorted. “You might think it, but be warned he is nothing like me.”
“So, you say,” she countered. “You also say that Harcourt and I are similar, while I do not see the resemblance at all.”
Giving up, Nash leaned back in his chair. “Have your misery then.”
***
After Lord Hawley had left Lady Callum and Lord Torrington in the library, he wandered around the halls in a daze. Despite his bitter disappointment, perhaps there was truth in Lady Callum’s words. As much as he admired her, he could see that perhaps it was not love but simply an adoration of her differences that he so was drawn to. Certainly, she was unlike most ladies he had met.
He collected himself a cup of punch and made his way around the dance floor. From here he could see Lord Torrington and Lady Callum dancing. The more he watched them, the more certain he was that the two of them were good for each other.
The fact that the match Lady Callum had chosen was a good one did little to soothe his heart. He took a sip of the punch and was surprised by the bite of alcohol. He shook his head and breathed deeply to ease the burning of it down his throat. “I do say that is not a drink fit for the ladies,” Edward breathed out.
A grey-haired man near him chuckled. “My Missus rather likes it. It is an old family recipe.”
“Are you related to Lady Callum then?” Edward was deeply curious as he held out his hand to the stranger.
He took Edward’s hand and pumped it up and down in a fierce handshake. “Aye, she is related to me clan.” The thick accent gave away the man’s ancestry long before his words.
“Pleasure to meet you then,” Edward said as he forgave the man’s impetuousness of striking up a conversation. If Lady Callum were any indication, the rules of introductions and etiquette were far looser in the Scotland society. “Lord Hawley, Earl of Granton,” Edward filled in.
The man grinned broadly. “Pleasure to be meeting you, Lord Hawley. I am Lord Dorsey, of the McKinnon Clan.”
“Cannot say that I am well acquainted with your clansmen, but it is a great thing to meet family of Lady Callum’s. She is a splendid young lady from my time in her acquaintance,” Edward said as he finally got his hand back from the joyful Scotsman.
