Page 18 of Too Scot to Handle
Well, yes. Anwen had made a mere suggestion. The final creation would be entirely Aunt Esther’s.
“Her Grace is planning a charity card party in lieu of her final soiree this season, with a portion of everybody’s winnings going to the House of Urchins.”
The full blue-eyed glory of Rosalyn’s stare fixed on Anwen. “A charity card party? That is…Anwen, that is brilliant. That is…everybody will wish they’d thought of it. If we must entertain ourselves with silly wagers, why not benefit the children while we do? The bachelors will be in alt—excellent punch, no standing up with the wallflowers, no guilty conscience for hiding in the card room for the entire evening. Oh, I would hate you for being so clever, except your dear aunt thought of this idea, and one can’t hate a duchess.”
Rosalyn paused to nod graciously at the Duke of Quimbey.
“I’m so glad old Quimbey took a wife,” Rosalyn went on when the duke’s cabriolet had rolled past. “My aunts had plans for me where His Grace was concerned, plans a young lady shuddered to contemplate.”
“With Quimbey?” He was a dear old fellow, but a dear old fellow.
“A duke is a duke. Your sister Megan found the backbone to accept when the Duke of Murdoch offered, did she not?”
One could never be entirely certain when Rosalyn was teasing. “They are a love match. I’ll thank you not to imply otherwise.”
“My goodness, you can be prickly.” Rosalyn beamed at Miss Stanbridge and Lord Pierpont as the carriages passed. “Let’s not quarrel, for there’s Winthrop and Lord Colin. We must tell them about our card party.”
Lord Colin had called Anwen fierce, rather than prickly. He and Win sat their horses a dozen yards along the path, chatting up an entire vis-à-vis of parasols and bonnets.
“No, Ros, we must not disclose the duchess’s plan.” And it wasn’t our card party. “Her Grace was very clear that until the guest list has been decided, we must be circumspect about the details.”
“But just a teeny, tiny—”
“No.”
Surprise registered, followed by Lady Rosalyn’s endearing smile. “Oh, very well. One doesn’t contradict a duchess.”
Not a single duchess was to be found in the carriage. “I mention the party to you only because you are a supporter of the orphanage and you love a spirited hand of cards.”
“That I do. Whist and hazard, hazard and whist, piquet for variety. At the card table, we are the equal of the gentlemen in every regard save recklessness, most of the time.”
The carriage inched forward, bringing them closer to Winthrop and Lord Colin.
“Rosalyn, have you been wagering again?” Anwen had made more than one “little loan” to her friend. Friends did that—preserved one another from embarrassment.
“My maid is selling my castoffs,” Rosalyn said. “I’ve three beautiful reticules that will fetch fine prices. I’ll come right in time for the party, never fear. What can you tell me about Lord Colin?”
Lord Colin had a lovely command of economics, and a sweet touch upon a lady’s nape, while Lady Rosalyn was nigh addicted to large, fancifully embroidered reticules.
“Lord Colin is charming and he dances well. He’d die for those he cares about.” He also took an escort’s responsibilities seriously, and made sure any who approached Lady Edana or Lady Rhona knew it.
Lord Colin had stood up with the Duke of Murdoch at the wedding, and if Hamish MacHugh had been dignified, his younger brother had been positively regal with family pride.
“The dying for one’s friends part doesn’t sound very nice,” Lady Roslyn murmured, “and I already knew about the charm and the dancing.”
The day grew slightly less sunny, slightly less interesting. “Do you fancy Lord Colin, Ros?”
“I might,” she said as the carriage moved two entire yards forward. “Depends on the settlements. He’s the ducal heir now, but I can’t expect that to last. Win says Lord Colin is well fixed.”
Lady Rosalyn expected Anwen to reveal facts relevant to Lord Colin’s financial situation, because the evidence—his fine team, his lovely conveyance, his family’s title, his exquisite tailoring—might suggest enormous debt rather than solvency.
“I’m not in a position to say, Rosalyn. Lord Colin owns a distillery business, and his family has land in Perthshire and the Borders as well as other commercial interests.”
Rosalyn wrinkled her nose, and even that looked lovely. “You’ll warn me if I’m wasting my time, I trust. No harm in being friendly, but the gentlemen so easily get ideas if one is too friendly.”
With that she beamed at her brother. Win and Lord Colin touched their hats to the ladies, and came trotting right to Lady Rosalyn’s side.
Chapter Four
