Thomas did, relieved to finally wash away the taste of anise. “So,” he asked, swallowing, “why did ye drag us all here?”
“He didn’tneedto,” Dominic said, striding through from the pantry. “He just wants to have the girls’ birthday party here. See? Nothing worth worrying about.”
“Ye spoiled the surprise, Dom,” Colby grumbled. “But aye, he’s right.”
The girls in question were Colby’s nieces, whom he and his wife raised as their own children. They were troublesome little minxes, although Thomas was reasonably fond of them. From a distance, of course.
“That sounds nice,” Thomas said. “Just the family, then?”
“Aye, and some friends.” Colby paused, glancing nervously at Dominic. “Ye won’t kick up a fuss like last time, will ye?”
“If that’s about wretched Agnes Black and her daughters, then—”
“She just thought ye would get on well together,” Colby chipped in, obviously trying to signal to Dominic with his eyes, requesting help.
He was not receiving it. Dominic seemed more amused by the proceedings than anything else.
“If I choose to marry, it’ll be on my terms,” Thomas stated firmly. “I’ll not marry one of Agnes Black’s brood just because she was persistent.”
Colby sighed, shaking his head. “Ye are stubborn, Thomas. Trust me, marrying Veronica was the best thing I could have done. I’m lucky to have her.”
“Aye, ye two love each other. But I’ve never… never felt that pull around someone else.”
There was a little silence after that. Thomas wished he hadn’t spoken. Colby seemed shocked and a little dismayed, and Dominic looked… Well, nobody could read Dominic’s expression at the best of times, so Thomas didn’t even try.
“Well, why not just pick someone?” Dominic spoke up at long last. “I’ll wager that yer advisers are terrified ye will die without an heir. That won’t be good for yer clan, will it? Just choose someone that ye like well enough and take it from there.”
“He can’t do that!” Colby exploded, outraged. “Marriage is a sacred union and love—”
“Remind me again, what qualificationsyehad in mind for a wife?” Dominic shot back, glaring. “A mother for yer children. As if all women are natural-born mothers.”
“Well, it worked out with me and Veronica.”
“Aye, and it might work out with Thomas too. What say ye, Thom?”
Thomas glanced between the two of them as they argued. They both made solid points, but he had no intention of marrying someone simply for the sake of being married. Unfortunately, nobody at Colby’s nieces’ birthday party would understand that. He’d be a target for every single woman under the age of thirty and her parents, too. He was Laird MacPherson, and that made him a fine catch, indeed.
It was difficult to reject their clumsy overtures without offending them, and these people would be Colby and Veronica’s guests.
But it’s my pub, too.Why should I bite my tongue and smile sweetly when they tell me I’m wasting my best years and ought to marry their daughter at once?
No, this time, he would do something about it. An idea was forming in Thomas’s head, swirling around like a cloud of glittering dust. Like one of the cyclones he’d once read about in an old book.
For all his best efforts, Emma Gallagher was at the heart of it.
“Thomas?” Colby repeated, cutting into his thoughts. “Are ye coming, at least?”
“Coming? To yer nieces’ birthday party? Of course, I am, don’t be foolish. I might be bringing someone, though.”
Colby pricked up like a bloodhound picking up a scent. Dominic, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Who is she?” they asked at the same time.
Thomas smiled smugly, getting to his feet. “None of yer business, eh?”
He picked up his tankard, draining it to the bottom. It really was strong stuff, much stronger than what they would usually serve to their customers. That wasn’t out of penny-pinching meanness, but more out of concern for their customers, who would mostly end up drunk after a tankard or two of that.
He shook his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and set down the tankard with aclank. He turned to grin at his two friends. “Lads,” he said, still standing, “do ye ever get dry patches?”
