Page 19 of Lyon of Scotland
“Our Highland sort is pure nectar,” Scott went on. “Distilled by an acquaintance of Strathburn’s. What was the name?”
“Glenbrae, a licensed distillery.” Dare wished Sir Walter had not been so forthcoming. Highlanders sometimes skirted strict English trade laws to protect the whisky production, so it was prudent to say little about it.
“Where is this hallowed treasure?” Dove asked. “Best get it to Carlton House soon before it is stolen, if it is that good.” He laughed.
“Safe on a steamer, where it will stay until I claim it,” Dare said.
“Ah! Well, sirs, before we take our seats,” Dove said, “is anyone keen for a bit of amusement after the performance? My cousin owns a gaming establishment, a reputable place, finestclientele only. She could offer good Highland whisky there, Lord Lyon, if you could supply her.”
“I do not supply it. Just the once for the king.”
“Do you play games of chance, sir, cards, wagers, that sort of thing?”
“At times.” Instinct, and banked temper, warned him to be cautious around this man. He still simmered over what he had witnessed with Hannah Gordon.
“Some of us will head there later,” Dove told the group. “My son will go. Needs to prove himself. Good opportunity. Sir George, Sir Walter? Strathburn, you as well? I believe Lockhart and young Huntly will come as well.”
“Where is this place?” Dare asked.
“Not far. Near St. James Park. Games, good drink, camaraderie, so on. If my son Charles dips out, as he tends to be timid, we will need another fellow in the game.”
“I am not much for gambling,” Dare said.
“But you must see more of London life before you go north again. Pity we do not have a cache of fine Highland whisky to tempt you. It must be worth a fortune!” Sir Frederic grinned at Naylor as he spoke.
“To smugglers, perhaps!” Naylor said cheerfully. “Alas, I am not for games this evening, and will leave it to the younger fellows.”
“The hour is too late for my old bones,” Scott said. “Strathburn, I can see Miss Gordon and her cousin home in my carriage.”
“Excellent.” Dare was relieved that the girls would be in safe company. Aware of some threat to Hannah, he wanted to keep an eye on Dove. “I could come along, aye.”
“Chimes again. Last call.” Sir Walter jabbed his cane toward the auditorium.
“Where did Miss Gordon go?” Dove asked as they walked.
“She and her cousins will sit in the duke’s box for the rest of the play,” Dare said. “They wanted to meet Mr. Scott.”
“I shall entertain them,” Sir Walter said magnanimously, with a meaningful glance toward Dare that said he knew the reason for the change.
“Huh. I wanted to talk with her again,” Dove muttered.
“I believe the lady said all she had to say,” Dare murmured. The man sent him a sharp glance and stomped off.
“Odious fellow,” Scott said low. “I wonder what he wants.”
“I mean to find out,” Dare said.
Chapter Four
He wanted toleave. Dare sat back in a damask-covered chair, a deuced uncomfortable thing, and watched a card game in play at a nearby table. He had left a similar game, head swimming, headache brewing. Rubbing his brow, he glanced at a clock on a mantel—the thing had stopped at ten to midnight. He was certain those hands had not moved in the last hour.
He glanced up as John Lockhart sat beside him. He was lean and good-looking in the plain and scrubbed way of a vicar or a scholar; Lockhart was the latter, a calm, pleasant fellow. “I am beat,” he told Dare. “Like you, I am out of the card rounds. I cannot match the funds flowing back and forth.” He laughed. “I may try my hand at darts for a bit, then leave with young Oliver. Will you stay or go with me?”
“Stay,” Dare said. “You and Huntly should go. I will get a hackney. I want to keep my eye on Dove. Curious rascal. Why did he bring us here?” He rubbed his brow again.
“Something reptilian about him. Perhaps it is the oiled hair and the pea-green silk of his waistcoat.” They both chuckled.
“I am beat as well,” Dare admitted. “I had a bit too much of the English whisky Dove pushed on us. He claims it is the very best, but it is not sitting well with me.” He felt dizzy and slightlyill, though he did not usually react quickly to strong drink. “Grain-based English stuff. A bit harsh. Did you try it?”
