Page 84 of Never Tempt a Scot
“For letting me have an adventure with you. Ladies like me don’t often have the chance to run off chasing the sunset. We stay home, sew, read, and pretend that we are content with a life with that and nothing more. Society allows a lady like me to live only a half life. But you’ve treated me like a whole person. You’ve cared for me in your way and shown me what it means to feel all the things a person ought to in life. That is what I’m thankful for.”
Brodie couldn’t speak. The lass had robbed him of all words. He gathered her in his arms, holding her long after the lamps burned low and moonlight covered the floor, lending a melancholy beauty to the two of them alone in the ballroom.
“Why don’t we go to bed?” he suggested.
Lydia linked her fingers to his. “Show me the way.”
Joanna,Rosalind, and Regina entered the townhouse in Edinburgh late that night. The ladies were exhausted. Joanna’s mood was sour after the journey, and her concern about her friend only increased when the Lennox butler informed her at the door that Lydia was not there.
“Where is my husband?”
“In the drawing room, my lady,” Shelton said. “He and his lordship are in good spirits.” The butler almost chuckled, as if it were somehow a joke.
“Good spirits?” Regina echoed suspiciously. “Come now, Shelton,” she admonished.
The butler winced. “I meant to say they are foxed, my lady.”
“Foxed?” Rosalind scowled. “My husband doesn’t get foxed, especially when he is supposed to be on a rescue mission.”
“You may wish to inform him of that, my lady.”
Joanna scowled and led the other two women into the drawing room. They skidded to a stop at the sight of Brock and Ashton laughing in chairs by the fire, two empty bottles of whiskey between them.
“Lass!” Brock grinned, his eyes slightly glassy from his drinking.
“Sister!” Ashton chuckled unevenly and then raised an empty glass to Rosalind. “Wife, and mother.” He gave a drunken cheer.
“Ashton!” his mother snapped. “What’s gotten into you?”
“More a matter of what’s gotten intothem.” Ashton pointed at the two younger women and then snorted in laughter. It took Brock a second to work it out, and then he started to laugh as well.
“Us?” Joanna shared a glance with Rosalind, who was equally confused.
“Explain yourself,” Regina demanded.
“Bairns,” said Ashton.
Regina shook herself. The word as it came from his lips made no sense. “Bay-urns?” Was he trying to say something Scottish?
“Aye,” Brock cut in. “We began to talk about them, and the next thing we knew, we were celebrating, and then we just sort of ... kept on celebrating.” Brock had to explain slowly as he had trouble focusing on the words.
“Bairns ... Oh! Babes!” Regina spun to face the other two women. “Wonderful! Which of you is going to have my first grandchild?”
Joanna sheepishly raised her hand, only to have Rosalind do the same.
“Both of you?” Regina cried out in delight and embraced both women at the same time.
Joanna hugged her mother back, but she was soon scowling at her husband and brother once again. “Why didn’t you stop Rafe and Brodie?”
“Because they were already gone,” Ashton said with a sigh. “Poor Lady Rochester and Mr. Hunt are bound for the Isle of Skye.”
“What?” Rosalind gasped. “Why the Isle of Skye?”
Brock explained what Shelton had told him. By the end, the three women had formulated a plan.
“Once you sleep off the drink, you must go and chase down Lady Rochester and Mr. Hunt. We shall all escort them to Castle Kincade.”
Ashton and Brock looked thoroughly displeased with the idea.
