Chapter Twelve
“Brother, ye havereturned.” Finlay said dryly as Fingal whisked through the front door, Yvette entering right after.
His twin sneered. “And miss my dear brother’s pre-wedding dinner party? How could I deny such a request?” Fingal pushed past him and made his way down the hall, Yvette following close on his heels. “Six o’clock, correct? I want to make sure we arena late,” he called over his shoulder.
Even though Fingal no longer lived here, his bedroom was still set up for him. Unfortunately for Finlay, Fingal and Yvette took advantage of the space more often than he liked. Once Willamina moved in, he would put a stop to that. They had their own estate, there was no need for a room here any longer.
“Aye,” Finlay mumbled. He pushed his hand through his hair as he watched his brother and his brother’s wife disappear. His brother’s countenance had him concerned. What was Fingal up to? He sighed. He had not the faintest idea, but he was sure there was something up his sleeve.
Mayhap he had come up with another ill-conceived speech. One made to tarnish his reputation in Willamina’s eyes. It mattered naught. It was just a way for his brother to gain attention. Mayhap his wife could keep him under control, though Finlay highly doubted it. He could only wish that Fingal’s antics did not ruin the whole night.
There were only a few hours left until everyone would gather and Willamina and Gil would arrive. One more night away from her and then she would be here. For good. Living at Rosewood Manor.
He could not stop thinking about their stolen kiss in the carriage the night before. He had left the choice up to her and whether or not she wanted to kiss him.
When she did, his body instantly reacted. It sprang to life as if it had been starving for her very kiss. He wanted to kiss her again. And again.
He hoped she felt the same way. Her reaction last night was sweet. If her late husband was still alive, he would hunt him down and beat the shite out of him for treating her so horribly. How could he deprive her from such pleasures?
Mayhap it was because he was not any good at it himself.
A knock sounded on his study door, and Gunn poked his head in. “Ye ready?”
He slapped the top of his desk, in his mind’s eye thinking it was the late Lord Watson. “Aye. Is e’eryone else?”
“Ready as they e’er will be.”
The five friends were heading to one of the clubs in the square for a couple of rounds of boxing. He was planning on working out some of his frustrations that stemmed from his brother.
At the club, they had claimed a ring in a room by themselves. The place smelled of sweat and leather.
“Can I just make it clear, gentlemen. No hitting me in the face today, aye?”
“Well, now ye are taking all the fun out of the fight, Primrose.” Alexander laughed. “I, personally, would verra much like to punch ye in the face. Your smug look about your upcoming nuptials is tiring,” he complained, but the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
“If I recall correctly, ’twas no’ that long ago, ye were in the same predicament,” Finlay retorted.
“Aye,” Nicholas chimed in. “And I really, really wanted to punch ye in the face. Over and over again.”
Alexander put his hands up in defeat. “Hey now, your sister loves me. She wouldna have let ye do any such damage.”
Nicholas snorted. “She canna stop what she is not around for.”
Back and forth, they took shots at each other as they taped up their hands.
“I saw Fingal moping around earlier. He and his wife will be in attendance this eve?” Malcolm asked.
“Aye,” Finlay said with a sigh, and finished wrapping the tape around his wrist. He cut the piece off with his teeth and smacked his hands together. “Who is first?”
Alexander hopped up and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. “Come on, pretty lad. I promise I willna mar that beautiful face of yours.” His head snapped to Nicholas as the words came out of his mouth and he looked like he wanted to take them back. “No offense brother.”
“None taken. But I am glad that I dinna have to worry about hitting ye in the face when my turn comes.”
“Great,” Alexander mumbled as he climbed through the ropes behind Finlay.
Fists up, they circled each other. Finlay threw out a jab, and then blocked the incoming punch with his shoulder. He returned with a left hook to Alexander’s gut.
“Ooof!” He shoved Finlay away and they rounded up again. “Ye ken, I liked it better when I could hit ye in the face.”
