Page 41 of The Scot Who Loved Her

Not an easy jaunt down the street. If only she’d tried to get to the asylum to see her sister sooner. Why hadn’t she bowed out of shopping or tea and instead gone to see her sister? Arranged a meeting or something, anything.

There could only be one reason that Marian had been placed at such a distance from Edinburgh, and it was because her parents wanted to keep her as far away from Olivia as possible. “So unfair.”

“I’m so sorry, miss. I didn’t want to keep the information from you.”

“No, you did the right thing in telling me.” Olivia went through her morning ablutions, perfectly annoyed and very sad. “Will you have my breakfast sent up?”

The last thing she wanted was to sit at the table with her parents while she tried to eat her toast, thinking about what traitors they were to their own family. How they’d purposefully sent Marian away, how they’d all but removed her from the family.

“Yes, miss. You also have several calling cards.”

Olivia frowned. The idea of socializing made her want to crawl back under the covers and never come out. “I’m not sure I’ll want to see anyone today.”

“Even if one of them is the Earl of Dunlyon?”

Olivia swiveled to see her lady’s maid eyeing her with a knowing expression.

“I may make an exception,” Olivia mused. But mostly because she was curious why she hadn’t seen him the day before. After sneaking into her garden, she was mildly surprised by his absence. He never seemed very far from her.

At eleven o’clock sharp, the Earl of Dunlyon entered the drawing room of Huntford House, and after Olivia and her mother had curtsied, he bowed and kissed the air above each of their hands.

“Miss Olivia,” he said. “I’ve come to inquire about whether or no’ ye’d be willing to accompany me to the opera this evening, along with my sister and the Earl of Paisley.” If she wasn’t mistaken, the latter was said with a slight hint of malice.

Before her mother could deny her the chance, Olivia jumped to answer. “I would be honored, my lord.”

“I shall bring my carriage around this evening to collect ye.”

Olivia almost laughed at his turn of phrase—to collect her as if she were an object to be traded. Or a criminal to be jailed. But either way, she was more than a little intrigued about what the night might hold for her.

“I was just about to take a turn about the park. Would you care to join me?” Her question was bold, and she was certain to hear words from her mother later about how inappropriate it was, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be away from her mother’s eagle eye and focus on the man in front of her.

But Malcolm, being as clever as he was, likely sensed her mother’s opinion on the matter. “I’m afraid I have some business to attend to, but I would be much obliged if ye would allow me to do so at another time?”

“Of course.” Olivia was surprised at how well she was able to hide her disappointment.

“I’ll see ye tonight.” There was a wicked gleam in his eye as he bent over her hand, and she had an equally wicked hope that tonight, he would kiss her.

As soon as he was gone, her mother turned an expected scowl on her. “How could you ask him to take you out for a walk, as if you were a hound in need of exercise?”

“What?” Olivia scrunched up her nose at the last bit of what her mother had said. It wasn’t unusual to promenade in the park, and if anything, her mother should be admonishing her for being so forward, but instead, she chose to make such a thing as moving one’s legs in a step pattern seem offensive. Lady Helvellyn was a puzzling woman.

“He’s a barbarian.” Her mother marched over to the window, twitching the curtains so she could glower at his retreating figure. “He probably wouldn’t even hold your parasol, and your skin would be burned.”

“Mama, that is just silly.” Olivia couldn’t hide her exasperation. This whole “we hate the Scots” thing had become too much for her.

“Silly, you say now,” her mother said, glancing at her from the window before turning her attention back to the street below, “but I know what men like him are really about.”

“How so?”

“Trust me, child.”

Child?“I’d like to point out that no other gentleman are knocking on the door to court me, Mama. Isn’t that what you want? For me to get married and not become a spinster? Maybe a barbarian Scot will have to do.” This last part, she said with sarcasm.

Lady Helvellyn scoffed, yanking the curtain back into place so hard that Olivia feared it would come loose from its hanging. “Your father is going to be very upset about this.”

But Olivia wasn’t listening anymore. She was daydreaming about what to wear tonight.

“Olivia, listen to me.”

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