“Then we’re back to Mr. Weissman. He’s the brownish blonde one. Normal face, normal hands. Kind of stoop-shouldered, no doubt because of his work. Wears spectacles, too.”
“The one with the bright yellow waistcoat? The dandy—”
“No. Mr. Weissman cannot afford to be seen as a dandy. That would be too damaging in a barrister.”
Then who was it? “The one with the flat face and a nasally quality to his voice?”
“Not him. The one you danced with last night. Or was it two nights ago? Oh bother. Never mind. I’ll point him out to you tonight. I’m sure I can prompt him, but you’ll need to answer right away.”
Right away? “But why? There’s at least a couple more weeks—”
“Because people are talking about you now. Better yet, you were never implicated in all that murder nonsense, so your reputation is in the clear except by slight association.” Mairi opened her mouth to ask a question, but the lady waved it away. “Don’t try to make sense of it. It’s a delicate balance. Right now, you’re part of the conversation. That’s the best time to get a man to propose for fear that someone else will snatch you up. The last thing you want is for no one to remember you at all.”
That made sense.
“So will you accept him?”
“I don’t even remember him.”
“You know the important things. He doesn’t have any vices that I’ve heard of, you’ll have something to do with your days, and there will be adequate funds to keep you on the periphery of society. What more could you want?”
Passion. Laughter. Love. Those were the words that filtered through her thoughts, but they were directly contrary to her stated purpose. She’d come to London with the explicit goal to get a husband who would keep her in a comfortable lifestyle without any of the difficulties of a boisterous, passionate Scotsman. This Mr. Weissman sounded like he fit the bill perfectly.
In fact, he was so boring, she couldn’t remember him.
But what had sounded like the perfect husband weeks ago when she’d left Scotland in a huff, now felt like dining on milquetoast for the rest of her life. Meanwhile, the countess’s expression softened into pity.
“Mairi, can you tell me what you’re thinking? You were so sure of yourself when you arrived, but now you seem listless and confused. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were languishing after someone.” She didn’t say more, but they both knew Connall was at the heart of her confusion.
“Did you love your husband?” Mairi asked, the question startling them both.
“I did. I do.”
“And now he’s gone and you’re…?” She let her voice trail away into a question. By all accounts, the countess was blissfully happy in her place as a wealthy widow of goodton. And yet there were moments such as now when the woman seemed heartbreakingly sad.
“I am alone,” the countess said, her voice low. “And that is worse than anything I can imagine.” She forced a smile. “Which is why I fill my days with girls such as you. I want to usher you into the same kind of marriage I had.”
“Mr. Weissman would not be a love match.”
“Love!” the woman exclaimed. “Oh, I don’t recommend those at all. Certainly, I was lucky in that regard, but what a woman needs is security. And that is exactly what Mr. Weissman will provide for you.” She squeezed Mairi’s hand. “I know it’s hard to give up on girlish dreams of love and romance, but once you do, everything is so much easier.”
Girlish dreams? Had Mairi ever had those? She didn’t think so. Her plans had always revolved around running the MacCleal castle and making sure her father was able to keep shaping glass as it was the only thing left to him after her mother died.
Fortunately, the countess didn’t seem to need an answer right away. She patted Mairi’s hand as she stood up to go. “I’ll point Mr. Weissman out to you tonight. We’ll get him to propose right away, and then we can start planning the engagement party. It will be important for his family to see that you have the approval of myself and my family. It’s never wrong to have a countess on your side, not to mention the titles my children have caught. They’ve all done very well for themselves, you know. Thanks to my guidance.”
She waved airily as she left. Which left Mairi to stare after her and wonder what she was going to do. Normally she was so decisive, but whenever Connall came into her thoughts, everything became jumbled. Which meant she tried very hard to not think about him at all. Unfortunately, that no longer worked.
Especially when he joined them that evening. They were going to Vauxhall Gardens for an evening of dancing and delight. The countess specifically suggested it because it was a location that Mr. Weissman was sure to be able to join. He was not usually invited to events ofhaut ton,but tonight would be a perfect opportunity for him. And if Mairi wanted to accept his offer, they could wander down the Dark Path to discover if his “nose” was of an acceptable size.
That was exactly what the countess said as they gathered before departure. Mairi was horrified by the off-color joke. Especially since she made it right in front of Connall, who looked exquisite in his tartan. All that traditional Sassenach clothing had masked the breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his muscles. He was a man who used his body, who could fight as a warrior of old or appear regal in evening attire suitable for the royal court. But in his tartan? No one could match his masculine beauty, and Mairi stood mesmerized by the sight of him.
“Mairi?” Sadie’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Do you like Mr. Weissman?”
Weissman, who?
“His assets seem to match my requirements,” she said, her mind somewhere else entirely. She was thinking that Connall’s nose wasn’t particularly large, but his cock certainly fit her needs. She couldn’t forget the way his body had moved over hers four nights ago. That his kiss had brought her to shuddering release. Or that she ached to do that and more with him again. Maybe even tonight.
But how could she think that when the countess was intent upon her accepting Mr. Weissman’s proposal tonight?
