Charlotte threw a quick glance at Niall, but before he could step in, Lady Buchanan was leading her away, her voice an endless stream of chatter. Niall stiffened, his gut twisting as he watched Charlotte disappear into the shifting crowd of silk and lace.
Damn it.
His hand twitched toward his knife, but he kept still. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t in danger—yet. But he had a bad feeling about this.
Gritting his teeth, he turned back to Buchanan, knowing he needed to get rid of him quickly.
“Forgive me, my lord, but I must—”
“Ye must have a drink with me,” Buchanan insisted, signaling for a servant. “Tell me, do ye still ride that hell-beast of a stallion? What was his name? Ah, yes—”
Niall barely heard him. His attention was locked on the last place he had seen Charlotte, her figure swallowed by the shifting, whispering crowd.
And MacAllister was still nowhere to be seen.
***
CHARLIE TRIED TO HIDEher alarm as the woman led her away from Niall. She glanced over her shoulder to see him watching after her, stopped from following by the lord’s hand on his shoulder. She gave him the slightest nod, telling him she was fine, then turned her attention to her escort.
The woman kept up a stream of chatter as they moved through the crowd, pointing out various guests and throwing an endless list of names at her that Charlie had no chance of remembering. Finally, they reached a space at the side of the room where several richly-dressed women were standing. Lady Buchanan quickly introduced her and the women’s eyes widened as they realized who she was.
“Ye must tell us, dear,” one of them said, her fan fluttering. “What is it like, living under the same roof as the notorious Mr. Campbell?”
Charlie had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. They wanted scandal? She’d give them scandal. If it meant keeping all eyes on her and giving Joseph and the others time to do their work, then she was happy to fan the flames of gossip.
Charlie tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh, it’s terribly improper,” she said with a sigh. “And thrilling, of course. The man has absolutely no shame. Why, just last night, he—” She let her voice drop to a whisper and watched their eager faces lean closer. “—read poetry to me by candlelight. Shirtless.”
The ladies gasped, their hands flying to their mouths. One of them giggled behind her fan. Another fanned herself rapidly, as if the mere thought of Niall without a shirt might send her into a swoon.
“And this morning?” another dared to ask.
Charlie lowered her lashes demurely. “This morning, he insisted on helping me with my laces.”
The gasps were even louder this time. A few of the women cast glances over their shoulders, checking for eavesdroppers, but none of them moved away. They were too enthralled.
“Mr. Campbell is... quite attentive, isnae he?” one murmured.
“Oh, yes, that’s one word for it.”
As she laughed along with them, Charlie let her gaze drift over the room. She was searching for MacAllister, or for any of Joseph or Bryce’s men that were supposed to be infiltrating the gathering. She saw neither. That unsettled her more than she cared to admit. Something wasn’t right.
And then, as if fate had decided to make her evening even worse, Lady Murray suddenly appeared at her side.
The ladies around her fell silent, stepping back to allow the older woman room. Lady Murray’s expression was all cool politeness, but her eyes were sharp.
“Miss Douglas,” she said smoothly. “I dare say none of us expected to see ye again.”
Charlie swallowed down the sudden spike of nerves. “Lady Murray,” she said, curtsying slightly. “What a pleasure.”
Lady Murray did not return the courtesy. Instead, she tilted her head, regarding Charlie as one might a particularly interesting puzzle. “Tell me, my dear,” she continued, her voice light and laced with steel. “Why exactly did ye see fit to impersonate the Countess of Argyll at my last gathering?”
The moment Lady Murray stepped closer, a weight settled on Charlie’s shoulders, and she felt that familiar flutter of nerves. The sharpness in the older woman’s gaze didn’t make it any easier, but Charlie straightened her back, forcing a confident smirk onto her lips. She wasn’t going to let Lady Murray intimidate her.
She met Lady Murray’s piercing eyes and shrugged casually. “Well, it seemed the best way to get Niall Campbell’s attention. Besides, I rather enjoy a bit of mischief.”
Lady Murray’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t immediately reply, clearly considering Charlie’s words. The older woman looked her over like a hawk sizing up its prey. But then her gaze lifted to look beyond Charlie, towards the doors that opened out into the foyer.
Charlie glanced over her shoulder and her breath caught. Boyd MacAllister stood in the doorway, his cold gaze raking over the gathering. Charlie fought the instinct to duck away from his gaze but MacAllister didn’t seem to notice her.
