“I’m nae up to anything,” Aden lied. “Ye’ll nae like having to dress for it, or having to make polite conversation, or nae being able to have a drink. And ye ken that already, so I reckon ye’ve an idea toward making trouble.”
The viscount pulled up his horse, blocking Loki. “I dunnae like being here. I dunnae like that I have to find a wife here. And aye, I was damned rude to Niall’s lass when I didnae have to be, and now I reckon I’m cursed for it. Ifyewant to fit in here, I’ll nae stop ye. I dunnae understand the attraction, but ye’re my brother and I want for ye whatever it is that makes ye happy.”
“Ye’re nae cursed.”
Coll snorted. “Ye soak in gossip like a cat in a patch of sunlight, Aden. Are ye trying to tell me ye’ve nae heard that Niall went behind my back and rescued Amelia-Rose out from beneath my heartless, ham-fisted clutches? I’m nae about to argue otherwise; the devil knows I owe the lass a good turn. But I’ve become the bogeyman of London, a great lumbering ox with naught between my ears but violence and haggis. And I still need to find a damned wife.”
Aden started to retort, but thought better of it. Aside from the fact that it might earn him a fist to the jaw, Coll had begun the trip from Scotland angry, and in the seven weeks since then, that hadn’t changed much. “Ye’ve nae precisely been subtle about looking for a lass with nae a brain in her head. That makes every English lady ye do approach reckon ye’re insulting her before ye’ve ever said a word.”
“Aye.” With a slight shift of his knees, Coll sent Nuckelavee sidestepping to fall in beside Loki. “The Highlands isnae a subtle place. Nae for me. Everyone in shoutingdistance of home knows I’m Laird Glendarril, set to be Laird Aldriss when Da turns up his toes. Any lad who wants to prove himself comes at me with fists clenched, and every lass worth marrying has her cap set at me.”
Aden had never really thought about it that way, but it made sense. They all liked a good brawl, but Coll had a black eye or bruised knuckles almost weekly. Not even the oldest MacTaggert brother could cause all that trouble on his own. No, it came looking for him, and he met it head-on. “Shouldnae that make it easy for ye to find a lass here? Amy’s ma sent her after ye, sight unseen.”
“The ones coming after me now are shrivel-hearted and sharp-tongued, pretending to be empty-headed, thinking me empty-headed, and waiting for the first chance to put on my ring and then dance circles around me.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.
“Nae to start a fight, but when we came here, we all meant to find lasses we could leave behind in London while we trotted back to the Highlands,” Aden ventured. “What does it matter if ye like her or nae, or if she’s some title-seeking shrew?”
Coll shrugged. “It shouldnae matter. But Niall seems so bloody happy. And that lass adores him.” He took a breath. “I want to do right, I suppose—by me, by her, and by Aldriss Park. I’ll be chieftain one day, and we’ve plenty of cotters and farmers and fishermen and peat cutters relying on me being a good one. A competent, well-bred lass with a good heart by my side doesnae sound so bad, I reckon.”
“It sounds bonny.” Narrowing his eyes a little, Aden glanced around them. Thanks mostly to giant Nuckelavee and his rider, the Sassenach out riding this morning had given them a wide berth. “Since I ken ye’re nae an idiot, why dunnae ye go about convincing the lasses here of the same thing? Go to dances and book readings and dinnerparties where ye’ll have a chance to converse. Go to the damned theater.”
“I’ll consider it.” Coll slanted him a sideways glance. “As for how ye’re spending yer days here, there arenae lasses at Boodle’s. And the ones serving drinks at some of yer gaming hells arenae precisely the sort Francesca would approve of.” He chuckled. “Though her damned agreement doesnae say a bride cannae be a lightskirt. Only that she has to be English.” They reached the end of Rotten Row and swung back around again. “But what I mean to say is, ye’ll nae find yer own bride at the places ye’ve been visiting. And that’s why I’m still of a mind to join ye at luncheon today. To figure out what ye’re up to.”
Aden held secrets that weren’t his to divulge. At the same time, after tonight his family would likely be coming up with their own stories to fill in the very large gaps he left. And there remained the very slight chance that he might need some assistance here and there, at least until he figured out how best to be rid of Vale. He pulled in a breath as he mentally crossed his fingers. “Ye cannae go to Boodle’s with me because I’ve a mind to impress Albert Harris.”
“Ye…” Coll opened his mouth, then shut it again. “I’ll be damned. Miranda Harris.” They rode in silence as they reached the next corner and turned east in between the two towering cliffs of stately homes.
“Dunnae be gentle now, giant,” Aden said. “We may be in London, but I grew up with ye in the Highlands.”
Coll cleared his throat. “She’s the one for ye, then? The one lass in London who looked ye in yer soulful eyes and saw yer clever smile and told ye to go to the devil?”
“That’s nae got a thing to do with it.”
“How so?”
“I’ve chatted with her since then. She’s clever and doesnae detest me as much as ye might think.”
The viscount actually laughed. “That’s a fine reason for wanting a lass. She only hates ye a wee bit.”
Aden reflected that he should have kept his mouth shut, after all. “This is why I didnae want to say anything to ye, giant. Leave be.”
“Aye.” Coll narrowed one eye, even his profile amused. “But isnae she nearly betrothed already? Her ma kept mentioning some navy lad she’s mad for.”
“I amnae saying anything else. And for a man who wants to be seen as more subtle, ye tramping yer big feet all over territory that’s nae yers doesnae become ye.”
Coll slowed Nuckelavee to a walk. “Ye dunnae go into anything blindly,bràthair. I know ye. Ye’ve a plan, a game, and ye’re half a dozen moves ahead of everyone else. So convince me ye’re nae pretending to have a yen for this lass because she insulted ye and now ye mean to break her heart.”
That sounded like him. Aden couldn’t deny that. This, though, was different. If he admitted it all to Coll, though, even the part that he worried Miranda was only tolerating him because she needed his help, his brother wouldn’t believe it. Him, putting himself in the position of being dragged about by his cock. Him, about to step into the middle of a battle that would likely earn him nothing and where the odds were good that not only would he lose, but the lass would laugh at him even if he won.
“I reckon we’ll find out,” he said aloud, though Coll’s statement was the one thing he already could answer. Because no, he wasn’t planning on breaking Miranda’s heart. And no, he wasn’t pretending that he’d become damned fond of the lass. He’d already become so fond of her that he was apparently willing to risk his own reputation at the tables in order to save her—whether she actually liked him in return, or not.
Chapter Nine
Matthew knew Captain Vale had demanded two dances of her this evening. He had to. Otherwise Miranda couldn’t explain why her brother had both hovered close by her all through the family’s light dinner, and managed at the same time to make certain the two of them were never alone so she could kick him even while they climbed into the coach afterward. It was quite a feat, but she didn’t admire it in the least. No, it only added to the throbbing swirl of trepidation, anger, frustration, and dread pounding in her skull. For the first time in her life her brother was not an ally, at a time when she sorely needed a few of those.
“Papa,” she said, interrupting her brother’s prattling over why Eloise preferred white roses over pink, “you haven’t said how your luncheon at Boodle’s went today.”
Albert Harris, seated opposite her in the cramped coach, rubbed his chin. “Your mother said you were taken with Aden MacTaggert as well as Captain Vale. Very roguish of you, my dear.”
