Page 60 of Highland Champion
It was probably the most miserable, never-ending nightmare that Lorelei had ever endured as well, although she didn’t tell Fiona that. After all, what could she say? That she’d had to listen to Melissa prattle on and on about all the things she wanted to have Alasdair accompany her in doing? Or how much her father liked him? She must have made that point a dozen times. Even Randolph had begun to look irritated, and he was always poised.
“There did seem to be a lack of animation,” she replied.
“’Twas bad enough Erik was at the docks, but Gavin didna attend either.”
“I understand his uncle arrived in town yesterday. I am quite sure the duke wanted a full accounting of what has transpired with the deeds.”
“That could have waited until this morning.” Fiona let out a huff. “That elderly friend of Lord Bute’s could not stop talking about all his accomplishments.”
“I had somewhat the same experience.”
Fiona slanted her a look. “So ye didna have a good time either?”
She had no doubt Fiona would sympathize with her, since she wasn’t overly fond of Melissa, but lamenting to Alasdair’s sister about the mistake they’d made in matching him up had no point.I am your brother-by-marriage.That is what he’d said. She was a responsibility to him, just like his blood sister was. And, after she’d soaked the pillow with her tears a few nights ago, she’d also realized that since they’d been in London—or at least, since he’d met Melissa—he’d not even attempted to flirt withher.That had brought on a fresh bout of tears.
In her silly arrogance, she’d been worried he’d interfere with her other suitors! She didn’thaveany suitors, unless she counted Randolph, and he truly was more of a friend than anything. It was almost as though she were some sort of refuge or haven for the marquess. As for the other young men she danced with… Well, if she brought up anything besides weather conditions or a social event, either past or future, they gawked at her as though she were some strange specimen they’d not seen before.
“Not especially.” She chose her next words with care. “Melissa was quite the chatterbox.”
“Aye. I heard her father was back, too,” Fiona replied. “I wonder if Alasdair has had a chance to meet with him yet.”
Oh, he had definitely met the duke.“Melissa mentioned that he had.”Mentioned it like a hundred times.
“That was quick,” Fiona said. “Do ye ken when it happened?”
“Saturday evening, she said. He was invited to dinner.”At least it hadn’t been a private dinner.“The Mount Stuarts were invited as well.” Alasdair had added that.
“Lord Mount Stuart probably wanted to arrange a meeting as quickly as possible, since no one kens when King George will call all the lords in.”
Lorelei doubted that Louisa’s brother was the one who’d arranged the meeting. Melissa had alluded to how wonderful the dinner had gone too many times for it to have been only for business purposes. More than likely he and his wife had been invited as an afterthought…as the polite thing to do. “It sounded like it went well.”
“Alasdair will need the duke’s support, especially now that Argyll himself is in London.” Fiona paused and then added softly, “Ye ken Alasdair must do everything he can to get back our lands.”
Lorelei felt her cheeks warm. Was she acting like she was pining away for Alasdair? She should never have let Fiona or Louisa know she cared about him. “I know that.”
“Ian has entrusted him with this mission. He canna fail.” Fiona studied her a moment longer. “In Scotland, clan is everything.”
She knew that, too. Her sister Emily had nearly been killed as an interloper before Ian had intervened. Alasdair’s brother Rory had made it his responsibility to rescue Juliana from the Camerons. Loyalty to clan was almost a battle cry. And the Lord knew that Alasdair tookdutyseriously.
The only difference was, Ian had married Emily and Rory was handfasted to Juliana as a result of those duties. Was Alasdair going to do the same with Melissa?
Chapter Eighteen
The pair of matched grays that Mount Stuart had lent him were a joy to drive, Alasdair had to admit, as he maneuvered the phaeton along the sedate route around the Serpentine that Saturday afternoon. They were spirited animals, but their mouths were soft—a condition of excellent training—and they responded to the lightest touch of rein.
The other reason it felt great to have the reins was because it caused Melissa and her aunt to sit in the seat behind him as he drove. It was why he’d chosen the phaeton when he’d been offered a choice of vehicles to take Melissa for a ride in Hyde Park. This particular carriage, while ornately appointed with comfortably padded velvet cushions and polished mahogany, gilt-edged rails, didn’t have double seats.
Alasdair looked up at the sky. Pity the sun was shining today. Had it been raining—wasn’t it supposed to rain in London?—he could have kept the top up and not had half thetonsee him escorting Melissa about. He sighed. That was the point, though. Melissa wanted to be seen with him.
And so did her father. Which was why he was here in the first place. Now that the Duke of Argyll was in town, there would no doubt be fierce debate over the five hundred hectares that Gavin had produced a deed for. That particular piece of land was crucial for the MacGregors, since it bordered their present holdings and would expand their ability to grow more barley for the distillery. As Mount Stuart had reminded him—when he stronglysuggestedthat Alasdair acquiesce to Melissa’s request for a ride in Hyde Park—the lords considered Argyll more English than Scottish and would align with him.
Something sharp poked his shoulder and he turned around to see it was the tip of Melissa’s parasol.
“Aye?”
“Remember when I tap you”—she prodded him with the steel tip again—“that means we are to stop and converse with the person in the next carriage.”
Alasdair eyed the frilly, lace-fringed item of torture. For something so flimsy-looking, it certainly had a sharp end. He wondered how easy it would be to break the damn thing in two, but he managed to smile.
