“Tell me, Lady Sophie, do you have any unmarried brothers by chance?”
Sophie giggled. “Oh no. I’m an only child. My father’s title will be inherited by a cousin.”
Devina batted her lashes. “A single cousin?”
Sophie laughed aloud, and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Dear old Cousin Kenneth is near to fifty, and on his third wife. His only son is but three years old. Are you looking to marry, Countess?”
Devina considered. “I did mean my daughters, but perhaps ...”
“Well, when Glenlorne and I marry—if we marry—I shall personally see that your lovely girls are offered the best introduction into society, Countess, and ensure that they travel in the very highest social circles.”
Devina’s eyes glowed.
Alec felt all eyes on the room come to rest on him. Did they expect him to drop to one knee now, here in the middle of the hall? He couldn’t. He kept his expression bland. “I’m sure Lady Sophie would love a chance to see her room once breakfast is over, and perhaps a tour of the castle is in order. Megan, would you do the honors?” He rose from his seat, and bowed to the stranger he was supposed to marry. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to see to that cannot wait.” He left Sophie and the Reverend Mr. Parfitt in Devorguilla’s capable, covetous hands.
“So that’s Sophie,” Angus said, stepping aside to let his grandson pass. He needn’t have bothered, of course, but he was tired of people walking straight through him. “She’s a bonnie enough lass. Did you hear the part about her father being rich?”
Georgiana sniffed. “She’s not as pretty as Caroline. She’s only bonnie because her clothes and jewels are expensive. Her eyes protrude, and her teeth are too big.”
“Still, what more does a man need?” Angus argued, his eyes on Sophie as she sipped her tea delicately. “She’s obviously got money—did ye see the coach and the beasts pulling it?”
“Did you see that hat?” Georgiana snapped.
Angus glanced at it and winced, touched a hand to his own feathered bonnet. “Ach, what does a hat matter? She’s rich. Alec can build new cottages, mayhap a school.”
Georgiana set her hands on her hips. “Doesn’t it bother you that she wants to turn Glenlorne into a proper English castle, in the very image of her father’s home—or Somerson’s?”
That got Angus’s attention. “What? She wouldn’t!”
“What do you think chintz is, my love?” Georgiana asked.
He had no idea but was loath to admit his ignorance. “Alec wouldn’t allow chintz.”
“With Devorguilla on her side?” Georgiana smirked. “Look at her. If Lady Sophie Ellison wished to tear the whole castle down and rebuild it as a fine Palladian mansion, Alec and an army of clansmen would be powerless to stop it happening.”
“You’re daft, woman!”
“Daft, am I? Look!” She pointed to Devorguilla, who was now in deep conversation with the Reverend Mr. Parfitt.
“What are they talking about?” Angus asked. He didn’t like the look in Devorguilla’s eyes. She was a scheming baggage, and he knew trouble when he saw it.
“Sixty thousand!” Devorguilla’s cry rang to the rafters.
“Change, Angus. They’re talking about change.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Caroline paced her bedchamber. Her hands were shaking. She paused and made a sound of rage. “His fiancée!” Alec MacNabbknewhe was betrothed—and to Lady Sophie Ellison of all the women on earth, and he dared to dally with another woman? Not just another woman—her!
She’d been a fool, but what did she expect, that he’d marry her after a hasty tumble in the dark? No, she’d never expected that, not for a moment. Her face heated at the lie. She’d spent her life dreaming of true love. She was thoroughly convinced now, if she hadn’t had proof enough before, that there was no such thing—and she was still a fool.
What now? Sophie Ellison was one of Lottie’s closest friends, and she was a dreadful gossip. Surely the first thing Sophie would do, once she had rearranged the furniture in her assigned chamber, changed her dress, and had her hair redone by one of the three maids she’d brought with her, would be to sit down and write to Lottie. Lottie would write to her mother, who would wake up screaming after fainting in horror at the news that Caroline was a governess in Scotland, and then she would inform Somerson.
And then? Her brother would come and drag her to the nearest anvil, since nunneries were scarce, and she shuddered to think who might be waiting there to take her hand in marriage this time. She wrapped her arms around her body to still the shudder of distaste. She’d do better to go out right now, climb the bloody tower, and jump off the top. She groaned, her cheeks flaming.
Damn Alec MacNabb! He’d stood at the door of his castle this morning, calmly waiting to greet his bride, his expression closed, unreadable, as if he hadn’t—they hadn’t—well!
He’d bowed low to Sophie, had taken her arm and led her indoors, a gentleman, afiancé.
