Page 52 of Highland Champion
Alasdair managed to keep from frowning. Of course, Campbell would take advantage of the fact that he hadn’t been there to watch over his sister. Just how often had they danced? And Westwood? How often hadhedanced with Lorelei?
He glanced over at the man only to find Westwood watchinghim. He wanted to ask how many dances the marquess had taken with Lorelei, but he couldn’t. He’d sound like a jealous arse and he certainly didn’t want to let Campbell know his feelings for his sister-by-marriage.
“Hopefully, Lady Melissa is feeling better today.”
Westwood studied him. “Your absence last night was noted by a number of people.”
“Aye, I suppose it was, since I wasna there.” Alasdair smiled.
The marquess didn’t return it. Instead, he leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice so no one near them would hear. “I would not ask this question, but it seems there have been some rumors circulating, and I do not think Lady Melissa’s reputation needs to be tarnished.” He paused. “Where were you last night?”
Alasdair stared at him, the implication of his words slowly sinking in. Good God Almighty. Did Westwood think Melissa had left the dance early because he’d arranged a rendezvous with her? The irony that he hadstayed hometoavoidspreading rumors about them hit him with full force and he almost laughed. Almost. One look at Westwood’s face—determinedly set in stone—made him squelch the notion. The man was too damn honorable for his own good.
He leaned forward so no one would hear his answer, either. “’Tis nae anyone’s business, but I was at home with Mount Stuart.” He leaned back and narrowed his eyes at Campbell. “It that why ye and Westwood are here? To discuss rumors?”
“I met Westwood coming in the door,” Gavin answered, “but yes, I came here because I want to discuss certain rumors.”
“Why in the hell do they matter to ye? Or better, why would I care to hear about gossip?”
“Because it involves Fiona.” Gavin shrugged. “And Lorelei.”
His attention riveted on Campbell like a hawk. Slowly, his hair rose at his nape. “What have ye heard?”
Instead of Gavin grinning and gloating at him as he’d expected, the man looked grim.
“It would seem they were invited aboard one of Erik Taylor’s boats yesterday afternoon.”
…
“You doona have to shout.” Fiona appeared unruffled as Alasdair stomped about the parlor the next afternoon, looking like he’d like to smash everything in sight. “’Twas only lunch.”
“Only lunch? Ye…” He gestured to include Lorelei sitting next to her. “Ye both went to the docks unchaperoned.”
“’Twas broad daylight and we had a driver and footman.”
He stopped pacing. “Garth went with ye?”
“Nae, ’twas Lord Bute’s driver.”
“Lady Bute would not have let us go—or Louisa—if she thought we’d be in danger,” Lorelei intervened.
“I might like to have a word with Lady Bute about that.”
Fiona smirked at him. “She and Louisa are visiting Margaret and wee John.”
“Ye could at least have taken Garth.”
“So ye could question him?”
Lorelei almost giggled at the look of surprise—and guilt—that crossed his face. He obviously didn’t think a loyal servant would let Louisa know that Alasdair had tried to pry information out of him.
“Do ye deny it?” Fiona asked. “’Tis what ye wanted to do last time.”
His mouth set. “I doona deny it. I wanted to ken where ye were going.”
“Mayhap ’tis nae your business.”
“I am your brother,” he all but growled and looked at Lorelei. “And I am your…your…brother-by-marriage.”
