Page 96 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Exactly,” Erroll said. “In any case, I have told my father that I will not marry the younger sister.”

“Why?”

“I believe it is my prerogative to choose a bride,” he said. “Is that not enough?”

“Yes—usually. But you will admit this case is unique.”

“Be that as it may, I am still within my right to exercise that choice, and I am quite adamant on the point.”

“Your choice is between a liar and a would-be murderess,” she said.

He shook his head. “No ocean shall hinder the speedy flight of gossip.”

“You are a sensation!”

Erroll couldn’t prevent a laugh. “And that pleases you.”

“It does. But on a more serious note, I will not like it if Miss Crenshaw develops a habit of pointing a gun at you.”

Erroll grinned. “The threat of facing your wrath may well stop her from trying it again. I daresay, the only difference between Miss Crenshaw and most other women is that she shot the groom before the wedding.”

“I am not saying you didn’t deserve it,” his mother said. “But I will not countenance it.”

“But of course,” he said.

Something flickered in her eyes and Erroll wondered if she remembered a time his father deserved to be shot.

She smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt. “So it is agreed, you will marry Miss Eve Crenshaw.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘agreed,’ but that is the case.”

“Ah, the marquess is not pleased.”

“No, but he didn’t have all the information. He’ll come around once he has time to consider.”

She snorted. “I suggest you don’t wait for him to agree, but make haste and marry.”

“The reading of the bans takes three weeks.”

“I will say no more,” she said. “If you feel certain he will change his mind in a short three weeks’ time, who am I to argue? Oh my, I had better contact the parson. He will begin reading the bans tomorrow, and we cannot have him marrying you to the wrong woman.”

“That would be a sensation,” Erroll said.

Her eyes widened in horror. “That would be a disaster! And if you think of doing any such thing I will shoot you myself.”

“I promise not to change brides at the last minute.”

“At this point, I do not doubt you are capable of it. Now that you mention it—” Erroll had the feeling what was to come did not bode well for him “—is not Grace Crenshaw under the impression she is to be your bride?”

“She was hopeful,” he replied. “But she knew I was not amenable to the connection. Did she say something?” He would strangle the girl.

His mother shook her head. “No, but given the latest version of the story—” Erroll had no desire to hear the latest version “—and the fact that I sensed she feels secure in the notion, I assumed it was true.”

His mother sensed Grace Crenshaw felt secure he would marry her? Would wonders never cease? “No such indications from Eve Crenshaw?” he asked.

“Not a one.” His mother’s gaze grew shrewd. “What an interesting turn of events. She does not wish to marry you.”

“Can you imagine?” he said.