Page 33 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

Cat glanced at Isobel, who shrugged. “She’s fine, Your Grace.”

“Kaitlin, when we are private. Please. Ach, I remember when she and your father fell in love. Right here in this house.”

“And dear Kaitlin. How can I ever thank you for your help with my husband’s cousins?” Aunt Lana said. Ten years ago, Lachlan’s long-lost cousins had had their Season, with near-disastrous results. Isobel recalled Mama mentioning that the Duchess of Moncrieff had stepped in and averted disaster. One of those happy couples had been Catriona’s father and her new mother.

“It was my pleasure,” the duchess said. “Ach. It was so romantic, was it no’, Lady Esmeralda? Especially Anne and Bowermadden.”

“Indeed, it was,” the old woman said, clearly pleased to be included in the conversation.

Mama smiled. “Hearing Anne tell of it, it was, indeed.”

“Though she resisted him heartily,” the duchess said with a laugh.

Esmeralda joined her. “That she did. That she did.”

Which was surprising to Isobel, considering how besotted Anne and Bowermadden seemed now.

The duchess said fondly, “I’m so pleased all the St. Claires found their loves.”

“As am I,” Aunt Esmeralda said. Then she turned to Isobel and Cat. “Well, do sit down. I cannot tolerate being loomed over.”

She was hardly looming, but with a quick glance at her mother, Isobel decided not to mention that. She took a seat beside Sorcha, and Cat beside her.

“It is so nice to meet you,” Sorcha said, holding out a hand. “Welcome to London.”

“And how are you finding our fair city?” the duchess asked.

Isobel was not able to withhold her snort.

Mama’s nostrils flared, but it was far too late by then. The duchess had noticed.

“Do you no’ enjoy living in town?”

Isobel took a quick sip of her tea before she responded, searching her mind for a socially acceptable response. “We are just settling in,” she finally said, with a frown at Mama.

Who sighed. “The girls are anxious to explore, you see. But we’ve been so busy, hiring the staff and unpacking.”

“It is a trial,” the duchess said. “We spend most of the year in our northern estates. Packing up the household to come here can be overwhelming. And you have little ones, don’t you?” she said sympathetically.

“Ten of them,” Isobel said sotto voce.

“Ten?” Sorcha whispered in horror.

“Ten.”

“Oh, heavens. You do need to get away.” And yes. Isobel liked her at once, too. “Why don’t you let me show you around town?” And she liked her even more.

“I would love to see the Elgin Marbles,” Isobel suggested.

For some reason, her aunts and the duchess spewed their tea simultaneously.

“I would love to show them to you,” Sorcha said with a grin. “And Astley’s, Vauxhall . . .”

“Covent Garden?”

“Yes, and so much more.”

“We will have to arrange suitable chaperones,” Aunt Esmeralda said. “Especially if they are going to see the Elgin Marbles. I would be happy to volunteer.”