Page 7 of The Scot's Perfect Match
Ava’s stomach dropped, her blood rushing from her face to pool in her feet. Of all the names in all of Scotland. She could’ve said Campbell. McLeod. Even MacLaren. But no, Gavan Douglas.
Ava’s least favorite storm cloud wrapped in a cravat.
Her smile froze. Her jaw, she feared, might do the same. Now she had no choice but to nod pleasantly and pretend this wasn’t the worst possible turn the afternoon could take.
It was always Gavan. Gavan who contradicted her in public. Gavan who smirked at her ideas like she was a wayward child. Gavan who ruined a perfectly good guest list by existing on it.
She’d once described him to a friend as an oxcart full of gloomy Mondays and still, he’d haunted her thoughts more than any man ought to.
And now he’d be at her ball. Standing in her drawing room. Possibly speaking to her.
She forced her lungs to work. She smiled graciously and nodded at Moira, knowing now she would find his cousin a suitor so fast Gavan wouldn’t know what hit him.
She wished she could rescind the invitation, because that meant he would escort his cousin to the party this weekend, but since she’d already issued it, it would be rude to take it back.
This would not go well for her.
She tried to keep her smile in place as she grinned at Moira.
Well, the sooner she found Moira a match, the sooner she would get Gavan away from her, as he was only attending the festivities for his cousin.
So, it was settled then. Moira was going to be her new matchmaking project.
“How delightful,” she said smoothly. “I will be delighted for ye to attend. We shall have to make sure ye meet all the right people.”
Ava smiled, just enough to be polite, but her jaw ached from the effort of keeping it in place. The thought of Gavan attending her ball, standing in her drawing room with that smug expression, was almost too much to bear. Still, it wouldn’t do to let Moira see any of that.
"So," she said brightly, looping her arm through Moira’s, "what brings ye into town today?"
If she was going to manage this situation, she needed to know more about Moira—her tastes, her temperament, her prospects. The Scottish season was beginning in earnest, and with so many eligible bachelors returning, there would be no shortage of potential matches.
"I was looking for a new ribbon," Moira said cheerfully. "I have a lovely sky-blue dress at home, but I seem to have misplaced the ribbon. And perhaps a new pair of slippers."
"Well, I know just the place," Ava said, looping her arm more firmly through Moira’s and steering her across the square. "Ye’ll find that between ribbons and gossip, this town is well-supplied."
The little bell above the door jingled brightly as they entered the milliner’s shop. Inside, the scent of lavender sachets mingled with starched lace and dyed muslin. A kaleidoscope of ribbons lined the wall, spools upon spools in every imaginable hue. It was a riot of silk and satin.
Moira’s eyes widened. "Oh! It’s beautiful."
"’Tis," Ava agreed, though she said it with the practiced air of someone who’d seen it a hundred times. "But it can be a bit overwhelming. Are we thinking soft blue? Or something with contrast?"
"Blue," Moira said quickly. "To match my dress. But maybe something with a shimmer?"
Ava scanned the rows, then plucked a spool of pale blue shot through with silver threads. "Try this. It’ll catch the light when ye move, elegant but no’ flashy. Trust me."
Moira held the ribbon to her wrist and grinned. "’Tis perfect."
Ava allowed herself a small, satisfied nod. This she could do. Dress the lass up, make the right introductions, match her before Gavan had the chance to involve himself.
“Now,” Ava said, “slippers.”
They made their way across the street to the cobbler’s shop, where delicate shoes were displayed like confections on tiered stands. Ava motioned toward a pair of sky-blue slippers with tiny gems glinting at the toes.
Moira gasped. "They’re lovely, but, oh, I could no’."
"Nonsense. Ye must," Ava insisted, already signaling the shopkeeper. "Ye’re going to be the belle of the ball."
And if she was lucky, Ava thought, Gavan would see it and stay far, far away.
