“There, you see,” her brother said. “Charswood is an excellent gentleman.”
“What doesexcellencemean in regard to a gentleman, Duke? Well-mannered and well-spoken? Are those your only requirements for a felicitous marriage?”
“It is a beginning. From here, you will permit his lordship to court you. It is regrettable that our late arrival has diminished your time together.”
“Yes. So regrettable.”
She and Kendall had scarcely crossed over the threshold when a ripple ran through the room, a face or three turning toward the door.
Allie followed their gazes.
Ethan stood in the doorway, a kilt wrapped around his waist, a tight-cut coat on his shoulders, and The Swooner firmly planted on his face.
Here was the Highland Poet in all his glory.
After Charswood’s bland company, Ethan was a decadent feast.
Unbidden, her heart literally skipped and leaped, as if she hadn’t seen him in days or weeks instead of mere hours.
Madonna.
She was in a bad way.
Granted, as usual, she wasn’t the only one drawn to him.
Like sunflowers rotating toward the sun, every eye canted in his direction. Several acquaintances rushed forward to greet him, pumping his hand excitedly. Ethan’s infectious laughter soared over the hum of conversation.
The tall, red head of Lady Isolde sailed across the room, easily cutting through the crowd gathering around Ethan.
His cry of, “Lady Isolde! How lovely tae see your bonnie face once more,” easily reached Allie’s ears.
“And I, yours,” her ladyship said on a laugh, her voice carrying over the din.
The guests parted enough for Allie to see Ethan’s delighted expression at Lady Isolde’s arrival. The happiness in his eyes as he reached for her hands.
They made a beautiful couple, Allie realized, both lithe and tall with matching wide grins. Lady Isolde’s auburn hair brought out the red highlights in Ethan’s own.
“Come now. Enough,” her ladyship said to the people gathered around him. “I have come up from London specifically tae renew my friendship with Mr. Penn-Leith, and I would beg your forbearance as I claim him.”
And with that, Lady Isolde wrapped both hands around Ethan’s elbow and tugged him out the door, disappearing into the entrance hall.
Kendall snorted at Allie’s side. “Penn-Leith can have that wretched woman. He and Lady Isolde appear to be a matched pair.”
Had her brother said those words to manipulate her, Allie wondered? Or was he merely commenting on what he had just witnessed?
The image of Ethan staring into Lady Isolde’s face with joy and fondness burned behind Allie’s eyes.
A possessive jealousy scoured her veins.
Wasn’t that the smile he saved specifically for herself?
Perhaps she didn’t like Lady Isolde that much, after all.
But more to the point—
When had Allie begun to think of Ethan as hers and hers alone?
16
