Page 19 of A Dash of Scot
How shocking.
And as much as he would have loved to escape his sister and enjoy an evening on the town, the last thing that Dougal wanted to do was leave the dining room to go to the club with Edward. They’d never been friends, and considering the three Featherstone women looked as if someone had kicked their puppies, he would much rather get to the bottom of that situation. He did not want to leave them tonight and know they would be unhappy, and at the mercy of Mary’s poor temper.
However, Edward stared at him in a way that said he wasn’t welcome to stay in his home, and Dougal could practically hear his sister seething. If he dared to look at her, he might see that her steaming ears were causing the wallpaper to bubble. Not wanting to create a scene he might not be able to come back from, he, too, pushed back his chair and stood.
Colonel Austen placed his folded napkin on the table and rose, his eyes on the youngest Featherstone, mirroring the same regret Dougal felt at being dismissed. The way Poppy was staring at him now practically shouted, “Traitor!”
And saints, did he feel that. Alas, there was naught he could do about it. There was always tomorrow; he’d come and call and find out what was going on unless he could needle it out of Edward tonight.
Dougal bowed to the ladies present. “Until we meet again, I bid ye all a good night.”
“Thank you, Lord Reay,” the Lady Cullen said softly.
Anise smiled weakly, out of character for the normally vibrant lass.
But most disturbing was the coldness in Poppy’s eyes as she met his. “Goodnight, my lord.”
And then she returned her attention to her chowder, which, though she’d spooned plenty, had yet to be eaten. She swirled the creamy base but did not take a bite.
“Lady Cullen, Miss Featherstone, Miss Anise, I have truly enjoyed making your acquaintance.” Colonel Austen bowed, regret etched in the corners of his mouth.
More guilt added to Dougal’s shoulders. He knew his friend had been eager to join them and was obviously interested in Anise, which perhaps didn’t seem like such a startling occurrence to an outsider, but Dougal knew how much it took for the colonel to open up, especially concerning a woman.
Anise pouted. “Do visit us again, Colonel Austen.”
“Yes, do,” Lady Cullen agreed.
“We would be delighted to see you again, Colonel.” Poppy’s tone was at least sincere with Austen, whereas it hadn’t been with Dougal.
Edward had already darted out of the dining room, perhaps afraid his wife would grip him in her talons and not let him escape.
Austen and Dougal followed him out front, where the groomsmen had already brought around their horses for them to mount. Edward sat on his, looking as uncomfortable as he had at the table. Dougal wanted to feel bad for him, but he also thought Edward had made his bed and was going to have to sleep in it for the duration of his days on Earth.
As they rode through the city to New Club in St. Andrew’s Square, Edward didn’t say a word. Dougal and Austen exchanged glances, both at a loss as to what to say to the man. Dougal respected his brother-in-law’s obvious need for a ride in quiet, but there was no way he would sit in the club and watch him stew.
They dismounted and entered the dimly lit club, passing their hats and coats to a footman. Dougal nodded to Lorne, Duke of Sutherland, where he was having a drink with his mates, Euan, Alec and Malcolm. Those Scots were fierce in the pugilist ring, and Dougal grinned as he recalled last summer when he’d challenged all four of them on the mat. Bloody hell, but that had been a lot of fun.
Edward led them to a darkened corner, away from most patrons. Either because he didn’t want their conversations to be overheard or he felt like being antisocial. Dougal couldn’t be sure which, but it didn’t matter because the moment they took their seats, each ordering a whisky, Dougal jumped into conversation.
“What the hell is going on, Edward?”
Edward blanched and looked up sharply. “Pardon?”
“The melancholy at dinner was more suited for a funeral than a meal.”
Austen squirmed a little in his chair and took a long sip of his whisky, signaling for another.
Edward grimaced. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“I’m no’ some idiot ye can lie to, man. Even the carpet knew there was something wrong. And let’s face it, ye’ve never defied Mary before.”
Austen coughed, nearly choking on his whisky. “If ye’ll excuse me, mates, I need to have a chat with someone.” And then he was up and gone, flying away as if the enemy was on his heels.
Edward watched the colonel’s back, his cheeks red, the flush creeping from his neck. “Poppy and I had a disagreement.”
“One that changed the moods of everyone present?” Besides Mary, of course. Dougal wasn’t brave enough to say that, not to the viper’s husband, even if he was her brother.
“Aye.”
