Page 58 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Not if I’m absent, he thought.

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can hide from her,” Eve Crenshaw said, clearly reading his thoughts—or the horror that must be expressed on his face at the thought of escorting the girl for a day. “You may avoid her during the trip, but you will have to face her once we dock in Scotland. You will not escape retribution.”

The younger Miss Crenshaw beamed, clearly not the least bit chagrined at being cast as a harpy, and said with even more enthusiasm, “Papa always promised to take us to Belfast, but he never found the time. Now then, when we arrive, it will take the better part of the day to unload the coal from the ship. Why should we rusticate in this room when we can enjoy a day in the city?”

“I did not realize you were acquainted with the coal business,” Erroll said dryly.

“Am I wrong?” she asked without rancor.

Sadly, she was not, and he said so.

“Excellent. We must go into town. Eve and I require new dresses.”

“New dresses?” he blurted, and didn’t miss the hard twitch of perverse satisfaction on the elder sister’s mouth.

Grace Crenshaw said, “Indeed, Eve’s dress is torn, and we cannot wear these dresses the whole time we are away from home. Not to mention, it won’t do for us to arrive at Ravenhall soiled and dressed in rags.”

They weren’t quite dressed in rags, but Erroll refrained from pointing that out.

“What will happen once we reach Ravenhall?” Eve Crenshaw asked.

“We will sort out this mess,” he said.

“When do you think we might hear news of Lord Halifax?” she said.

Erroll shrugged. “That depends on how quickly he dies.”

Her brow furrowed into a ferocious frown. “Do not say that.”

“We are deeply gratified you were not killed, my lord,” her sister said.

He kept his gaze on Eve. “If I had been killed, you would be free of me.”

“I shall be free of you soon enough,” she muttered.

Erroll couldn’t deny a twinge of frustration at her staunch refusal to marry him. “There are any number of ladies who would thrill at the chance to marry me.” Though he wouldn’t marry a one of them.

“Of course,” Grace Crenshaw chimed in. “Any lady would be thrilled to have you as her husband, my lord.”

Eve Crenshaw rolled her eyes. “I imagine his title and bank account have a great deal to do with his popularity.”

“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I am a very eligible bachelor.”

“That does not make you a desirable husband.”

“It could,” Erroll said under his breath.

“Eve,” her sister said, “where are your manners? You should not talk so.”

“Tell me, Miss Crenshaw,” Erroll addressed the elder, “how do you propose we extricate ourselves from this new tangle?”

The younger sister waved a pretty hand. “Eve and I have discussed the situation. Tell him, Eve.”

“You two discussed it?” Here might begin his reckoning.

“You are a fortunate man,” Somerset said.

“So it would seem,” Erroll agreed. “Pray tell, what did you two conclude?”