Page 28 of The Scot Who Loved Her

“Indeed, we are, miss.” Elaine smiled, though sadly.

“Edinburgh this time.” Olivia sat down heavily on her chaise. “I wonder how many times they will shuffle me around and how many more times I might disappoint them.”

“If I may speak plainly, miss, the Olivia I know wouldn’t care.”

“True enough, Elaine, true enough.” Olivia kicked off her slippers and then stood, pulling her half boots from the wardrobe, when an idea came to her. “Might you see that a note is delivered for me before we leave? You’d have to be discreet.”

Elaine eyed her, then said, “Of course.”

“They”—she nodded her head toward the door, indicating her parents—“won’t know, because we’ll be gone before it arrives to the intended recipient.” Olivia hurried to her writing desk and penned a quick note to Dunlyon.

8

The intended recipient is no longer at this address. Happy hunting!

Malcolm stared, puzzled at the note in his hand. He compared the writing to Olivia’s last note. The scrawl was the same, even down to the little added swirl to herO’s.

What game was she playing?

A quick horse ride past the Helvellyn residence, outfitted in a costume as “English” as he could be, answered the question. Carriages were being loaded with trunks. And the wee minx herself, dressed in a traveling costume, sauntered from the grand front entrance and climbed into one of the waiting transports. Her head was high, shoulders back. She was irritatingly stunning, even when she wasn’t trying.

There was a note of defiance in how she held herself, and Malcolm wondered how much of this was her choice. How deeply she’d been embedded in whatever nefarious activities her father was running from inside his study.

Of course, probably none of it had been her choice at first. But she was playing the game now. Why else would she send such a note?

His note with the flowers must have spurred on this flight from London, but where were they going? Back to their house in the Scottish countryside? Encumbered with his sister, he couldn’t very well follow them, which he would have done had he not agreed to be her escort to society events and oversee Caroline’s coming out in society.

Then again, maybe he could. It wouldn’t be hard to catch up to them.

When the carriages had pulled away—Viscount Helvellyn, his wife and daughter in one, their bags and a few servants in another—Malcolm approached the gate. He tossed a coin to the footman who’d just started to return inside and asked, “Where are they off to?” using as best an English accent as he could. No need for the man to inform his superiors that a Scot was asking after them.

The servant looked like he wanted to refuse to answer, so Malcolm tossed him another coin. “I’m a friend.”

“Edinburgh, my lord.”

“Thankyou.” Back to the scene of the crime. Interesting. “Jedburgh?” he asked as an afterthought, thinking of the village near where she’d shot him, which was not Edinburgh.

“Nay, my lord. Edinburgh.”

Well then. “Thank you.”

When he returned, Caroline was in the dining room, eating some eggs and toast. “There you are.” She smiled sweetly.

He was genuinely surprised to see her up and about yet, let alone dressed, given how late they’d been out the night before. The more time he was spending with her, the more he was also coming to realize she was nothing like their mother. Gemma would have slept all day just to wake up and flitter about the ton again.

“Good morning. How would ye fancy a trip to Edinburgh?”

Caroline dropped her butter knife, and it clattered loudly against her plate. She quickly chewed and swallowed what was in her mouth and then, on a near gasp, said, “Edinburgh?”

Dear God, here he was about to get an earful, he was sure. Their mother had never allowed Caroline to visit Scotland. Caroline had not asked in the few days he’d been here about their family seat, so he’d assumed she didn’t have any interest either. Or at least that she’d been brainwashed to hate her roots as much as their mother did.

“Aye,” he said slowly, cautiously, waiting for the explosion that was no doubt coming.

Caroline wiped her mouth and cocked her head, looking…interested instead of irritated. “I’ve never been.”

Malcolm detected notes of excitement in her tone. He nodded slowly, still uncertain as her demeanor was unexpected. “Ye’d miss your season here, ye understand. Or at least some of it.”

Now she was certain to blow. But Caroline simply nodded and sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful.

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