Page 6 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
Miss Peacock inclined her head.
“You couldn’t find a better partner in my friend, Mr. McTavish. She’s the perfect Society lady.”
“Well,” Murdo said, “I suppose, if that’s the case…”
“Excellent!” Miss Goodchild said, her voice increasing in pitch. “That’s settled.” Her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink, she steered Murdo’s cousin onto the dance floor, where a number of couples formed a line, headed by the Duke and Duchess of Pittchester.
“Looks like someone’s had a little too much of our hostess’s punch,” Murdo said, as Miss Goodchild lost her balance.
“That’s myfriendyou’re speaking of,” a harsh, nasal voice said.
“Forgive me, Miss Peacock,” Murdo replied. “I’m known for my frankness.”
“A trait of your countrymen, I suppose.” Miss Peacock took his arm and pulled him onto the dance floor. “I hear the land in the north is somewhat savage.”
“Ye’d be surprised, Miss Peacock,” Murdo said. “We no longer live in caves, you know.”
Her eyes flared with irritation. “Do you know this dance, sir?”
“No.”
She let out a huff. “I assumed you were employing false modesty when you said you couldn’t dance.”
“Why the devil would I do that?”
“It’s a ploy men adopt to secure the attention of a sympathetic lady.”
“Then I must use it when I come across asympathetic lady.”
She scowled, then nodded toward the line of dancers. “You’d do best to watch and learn, Mr. McTavish, lest you disgrace yourself in the ballroom.”
“I’ve disgraced myself in many rooms, Miss Peacock,” Murdo said, steering her around in a circle in time to the music.
“I daresay you have,” she replied. “No—notthatway! The other way.”
“I was following the duke’s steps.”
“The duke isleadingthe dance and is therefore undertaking a different series of steps. You should follow Mr. Tuffington instead.”
Murdo glanced at his cousin, who steered Miss Goodchild in a figure-of-eight motion, then he matched the steps.
“That’s better,” his partner said. “With luck, Lady Cholmondeley will have no cause to regret inviting you here tonight.”
“Ye think she had cause to regret before?” Murdo asked.
She wrinkled her pretty nose into a sneer. “Lady Cholmondeley is usually discerning in her choice of guests. But we’re not in London now, so her choice is limited. However, that’s no excuse for inviting anyone of poor breeding. Do you have any family?”
“My da’s Laird of Strathburn, but…”
“Laird?” Miss Peacock fixed her gaze on him. “Atitledman?”
Murdo nodded.
“Is Strathburn an earldom?”
“Strathburn’s a castle.”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse, Mr. McTavish?”
