Page 34 of The Scot Who Loved Her

Caroline continued, indicating the blonde standing beside Jaime, “This is Giselle Hay, the Countess of Errol. And, last but never least, Bronwen Irving, Baroness Drum.” The latter woman had her ginger hair piled on top of her head in elegant braids.

“I’m glad to make your acquaintance,” Olivia said. “Caroline has said only good things about you.”

“We’re so pleased to make your acquaintance,” the one named Bronwen said. “Caroline has told us all about ye as well. A perfect addition to our little circle.”

“You are too kind, dear,” Lady Helvellyn said, taking the compliment directed at Olivia for herself, and then her mother marched forward and sat beside the duchess.

Smiling to hide her irritation, Olivia sat down where Caroline had patted the sofa beside her and took the offered cup of tea from Lady Errol—Giselle. She glanced toward the door, expecting to see Dunlyon, ready for him to pounce on her. The sensation was truly unnerving. And yet, underlying it was a desire to see him walk through. Unexpectedly, the feeling of disappointment lingered that the entryway remained empty.

“Jaime’s husband, the Duke of Sutherland is mine and Malcolm’s cousin, Lorne,” Caroline was saying, having caught Olivia staring at the door. “I think Malcolm was rather relieved to be back in Edinburgh versus London. He’s done nothing but go off with his friends, so I was exceedingly happy he allowed me to host all of you for tea, though I would not be able to do such a thing in London without a chaperone.”

“Indeed,” Lady Helvellyn said, glancing at Caroline over the rim of her teacup.

Olivia looked down at her hands where her knuckles were turning a little white from how hard she was gripping the teacup, afraid to see how her mother’s obvious censure had gone over with the group. One of the women—Jaime—was a duchess after all. If she didn’t mind coming to tea, then certainly a viscountess should not.

Inwardly, Olivia was cringing so hard that she could curdle the cream in her tea. She’d already heard quite a lot about Caroline hosting from her mother this morning—how it wasn’t right for Caroline to entertain them all to tea without a matronly chaperone with her, especially when she’d barely had her coming out season. But from what Olivia had gathered, things in Scotland seemed a bit more relaxed. Even though they’d been in the city less than twenty-four hours, Oliviafeltbetter. Which she shouldn’t because the man she had been hoping to escape had followed her here.

If she tried to deny the little thrill of excitement in that, she’d be lying to herself. As much as she feared that her future was in his hands, he’d yet to act. And instead, he had made plenty of time to flirt with her, which she regrettably enjoyed. He was the last man she should accept flirtations from, yet…here they were.

And yet, a part of her wondered if he was going to arrest her, wouldn’t he have done it already? There seemed to be something more that Dunlyon wanted from her, and she couldn’t figure it out. He was under the impression that she’d shot him on purpose, which was preposterous.

She would never shoot someone. Oops. That wasn’t true. Because now she had. What she meant was that she would never shoot anyoneon purpose. Which she’d made a good show of explaining, she was certain. Still, what was his next move going to be?

Olivia clattered her teacup against her saucer loudly enough to draw the group’s attention and a sharp hiss from her mother.

“Apologies,” she managed with a shy smile.

“Are you feeling well?” her mother asked, surprising Olivia, considering if she was ill, it was a private matter to be discussed out of earshot of their host. However, it was clear from the moment she’d accepted the invitation that her mother did not want to come and did so out of obligation and likely curiosity.

“Quite.” She glanced at Caroline, about to issue an apology, but the devious look on the girl’s face gave Olivia pause.

“I wonder if my brother will return to greet all of you before you have to leave?”

The question might have seemed awkward and out of place, except Olivia had been thinking of him the entire time, and it was why she’d made such a faux pas to begin with.

“How we can hope,” Lady Helvellyn quipped, sarcasm in her tone.

From the corner of her eye, Olivia watched Jaime flash her mother a sharp glance, though Lady Helvellyn was oblivious to it.

“Have you been shopping yet?” Olivia asked, changing the subject to something she was more interested in. And an outing alone, without her mother judging her and everyone else, seemed like a fun thing to bring up. Besides, it got them away from discussing Dunlyon’s whereabouts and his possible return, which only made her blood do weird things in her veins.

“I have not, and I should dearly like to,” Caroline said enthusiastically.

“There are so many wonderful shops in Edinburgh,” Bronwen said.

“She would know as she’s got accounts at them all,” Giselle teased. “Between her and his six sisters, it’s a wonder Euan has no’ gone bankrupt.”

Bronwen laughed. “Well, as my husband says, I’ve many years to make up for.”

Olivia found herself a little lost in the conversation until Giselle leaned close and said in a bantering tone that Bronwen had come from modest means and captured the heart of a baron who couldn’t stop spoiling her.

“That is divine,” Olivia said. “And how did you two meet?”

“Oh, do tell it,” Caroline said. “I have not heard it either. I do adore a good meeting story. I’ve a library full of romantic tales.”

“I love to read,” Olivia said. “Perhaps you’ll show me your library some time?”

“Of course, we can after tea if you don’t have to rush off.”

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