Page 54 of Too Scot to Handle
Rosalyn knew an attempt to shift blame when she heard it, for she’d talked herself around many an awkward position.
“The initial idea was yours, Win. I’d wager your example at the public house was not subtly rendered, nor was it a single instance.”
Rosalyn could not recall the evening Win had ended entirely sober, and regarding drink, he was a Methodist spinster auntie compared to most of his friends.
“I might have been a trifle sozzled when the inspiration first came to me,” Win said, studying his brandy. “Not at my best when I’m sozzled.”
“None of us are, dear heart. I hear your affections are attached in an unfortunate direction these days too.”
“Rosalyn, you are a lady. I’ll thank you not to venture into corners best kept private, or I won’t escort you to Lady Dremel’s whist party tonight.”
“You must be violently in love.” Which was unusual for Win and probably bewildering. He was utterly selfish regarding intimate matters, as far as Rosalyn could tell. What man wasn’t? “Can you apologize to Lord Colin, Win?”
“That’s the difficult part. A man apologizes when he’s not wrong, as a polite gesture, a sop to appearances. When he is wrong, the matter becomes more complicated.”
Pure masculine balderdash. “Is that what you learned at Oxford?”
“Don’t be a shrew.”
Rosalyn very much wanted to attend the evening’s card party. No entertainment appealed to her as much as gathering around a table with a deck of cards and three other people, all equally skilled, and equally at the mercy of chance.
“I can tell you what works for me,” she said, because Win was a prince when sober, but he could be a brat when he imbibed. He’d plead a headache and deny her the only outing she’d looked forward to all week.
“Do tell,” he muttered, finishing his drink.
“I throw myself on the other person’s charity,” she said. “If it’s an IOU I can’t pay timely, a comment I shouldn’t have made that was overheard, a bit of confusion regarding who was supposed to dance with whom for the supper waltz. I apologize, I explain why I was not at my best, and I ask them to forgive me. Works a treat every time.”
Especially with the gentlemen. Other young women were generally tolerant as well, but Rosalyn was careful with the older ladies and with a few of the older gents.
“You think I should turn up sweet with MacHugh,” Win said, sniffing at his empty glass. “Bat my eyes, simper, and look helpless?”
“More or less. Has he agreed to pay the shot?”
“He’ll do it, but it was a near thing. The Scots are so tightfisted.”
“Then you thank him effusively, tell him you’ll never forget his magnanimity, and assure him you’re in his debt.”
Win was on his feet, heading back to the sideboard. “A bare-kneed, upstart Scot, and I’m in his debt. I thought merely to curry favor with a new title, and now I’m saddled with a mess, though I suppose you’re right.”
A mess of Win’s own making. He’d taken aim at Lord Colin’s friendship with the same calculation Rosalyn chose her dancing partners and her reticules, which was entirely understandable.
Win poured another half a glass, downed it, and set the empty glass on the tray. “I could cut Lord Colin. He’s grown prodigiously tiresome.”
Good heavens, drink made men imbeciles. “You’d have to deal with him at the orphanage, and Anwen Windham wouldn’t appreciate your change of heart toward her in-law. You should court her, by the way.”
For the first time, Win smiled, and my, he was a handsome devil when he truly smiled. “Court Anwen Windham? She’s meek, retiring, red-haired, and nowhere near next in line to be fired off.”
Those same attributes hadn’t stopped her sister Megan from becoming a duchess. “Anwen wouldn’t give you any trouble, and she’s desperate to get out of that household. I like her, when she isn’t being passionate about her orphanage. She’s not catty, even though I’m much prettier than she is.”
Beauty really could be a burden. So few understood that.
Anwen was also willing to make a discreet loan to a friend when a loan was much needed, and she didn’t fuss about it. She didn’t tattle, she didn’t put on airs, she never mentioned the favor, and she was genuinely kind.
Too bad when it came to marriage, she wouldn’t do any better than an earl’s younger son, not with two older sisters left to marry off first and a personality about as colorful as a winter sky.
“Miss Anwen strikes me as a woman who’d expect her husband to be involved in the marriage,” Win said. “She has a seriousness that bodes ill for a lighthearted fellow like myself. Besides, I’m not ready to get married.”
“So few of us are. You won’t cut Lord Colin, will you? Snubbing a member of a ducal family, especially a wealthy ducal family with two marriageable daughters, will create endless awkwardness.”
