Page 86 of Too Scot to Handle
Anwen eased away. “I might have ended up married to him, and counted myself pleased to have his notice. I hate that.”
Every soldier knew the weak-in-the-knees, cast-up-your-accounts feeling of having dodged a bullet by inches. “You have me, and you always will.”
Colin would inscribe that on a ring for her, and give it to her as her morning gift.
Anwen studied the slate hanging at the front of the room. Each Latin verb declension was written out in all six persons, present tense, and of course, the first declension example was amo, amare.
I love. Colin loved Anwen, in large part because they could talk like this, honestly, bravely, and create an entire language of love, trust, and loyalty.
“When I met with the boys, I realized something, Colin.”
“What did you realize?”
“The great fire yet burns. You said I was a bonfire, but when it comes to those children, I am the sun, Colin. I am a comet, or a meteor, some heavenly body composed entirely of fire. I am fierce as the devil.”
“Fierce as an angel, I think you mean.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I love you, Colin MacHugh. Winthrop Montague is a spavined, cow-hocked, horse’s arse of an idiot.”
“And you’re being polite.” Unfortunately, Montague was a powerful idiot, despite his relative penury and lack of honor. “Let’s find Hitchings and have him show the boys the loot, and then I’ll take you home. We can arrange to have an architect look the building over, and plan from there.”
Anwen took Colin’s hand and kissed his knuckles.
The sight of her head bent over his hand did queer things to his breathing. She was the pirate’s treasure, the loot, the prize, the everything. How dare Winthrop Montague presume Anwen should be grateful for his bumbling attentions?
Colin collected the boys and was herding them down the steps with Anwen at his side, when Hitchings came trotting up the corridor.
“Lord Colin! Miss Anwen! We must summon the authorities this instant. The money is gone. Every penny and pound, gone, and nowhere to be found.”
Chapter Sixteen
Esther put Percival in mind of a contented lioness, sipping her chocolate and perusing the paper with a victorious gleam in her eyes. Had family been present, she might have taken her usual place at the foot of the breakfast table, but Charlotte and Elizabeth were abovestairs somewhere, and Anwen had already hared off to her orphanage.
Percival thus broke his fast with Her Grace at his elbow, his favorite way to start the day.
“A triumph,” the duchess said, putting the paper down. “They’ve run out of metaphors. My boating party four years ago was a triumph, and now the card party is a triumph as well. I’ve devised a means of celebrating both the congenial and the compassionate at the lowly altar of the card table, no less. Who writes this drivel?”
Percival’s duchess was very pleased.
“There won’t be an urchin or wounded veteran left on the streets of London,” Percival said. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Esther smiled at her chocolate. “This family of ours is a force to be reckoned with, Moreland, but much of the credit must go to Anwen.”
“Gracious of you to say so. Would you care for another slice of ham?”
“I’ll just have a bite of yours.”
The woman pilfered bacon without shame, though not in front of the children. Percival sliced off several bites of perfectly cooked meat from his own serving and put them on her plate.
“Are you up to another wedding so soon?” Percival asked. “Anwen and her Scottish swain won’t tolerate a lengthy engagement.”
The duchess paused, a bite of ham on the end of her fork. “I thought you had reservations about Lord Colin? He certainly acquitted himself well last night.”
“I had reservations, but they’ve been addressed, or I wouldn’t have allowed him the privileges of a suitor. Rosecroft unearthed all manner of debts supposedly run up by Lord Colin in a very short time. That was my toast, you little thief.”
“You put just the right amount of butter on yours.” She held it up to his mouth for him to take a bite, and abruptly, Percival longed for the peace and privacy of Kent.
“Esther, I miss you.”
