Page 37 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

And who could deny the duchess?

So, as easily as that, Isobel was trapped into attending her first event of the Season.

It would be undoubtedly horrid.

Chapter Eight

The Edwards lounged lazily in the reading room at White’s, each with a fine Scottish whisky in hand.

There was Edward Tully, whom they all called Tully, and Edward Pennington, whom they called Penny, and of course himself, whom they called Nick to avoid confusion.

The only ones who still called him Edward were his family, and then it was usually Edward the Third, and though he was that—the third of his line—it was still confusing, on account of all the Edwards.

He, Tully, and Penny had been friends from the cradle, because their parents were longtime friends and it was convenient that way . . . and they sincerely liked one another. They were, in Nick’s mind at least, brothers as well.

“You’ve got to protect me,” he said again, though it was clear Tully, at least, wasn’t listening. He nudged him with his boot.

“What?”

“I say, you’ve got to protect me. Do pay attention. This is serious.”

“How serious could it be, having a beautiful, wealthy woman panting after you?” Penny said on a laugh.

“It’s very serious, when it’s Celia Swofford,” Nick responded. “Did you know she tried to sneak in my room when I was staying at their country home?”

“Your own fault for going there,” Tully drawled.

“William promised she wouldn’t be there.”

Penny lifted a glass. “To William’s promises.”

Tully chuckled. “How did you fend her off?”

“I’d locked the door, thank the gods. Some great providence warned me, I suppose. Then I simply didn’t respond to her scratching.”

“I’ll bet that annoyed her.”

“As though I would care?”

“You could do worse,” Penny suggested, and Nick made a face.

“Trust me, I have other plans, and I can’t have Celia Swofford upsetting the applecart.”

Blast. He’d said too much. Both his friends came on point.

“What other plans?” Tully asked, sitting up in his chair.

“Another woman?” Penny asked. He’d always been the more perceptive of the two.

When Nick didn’t respond, other than to set his chin, Tully gave a whoop. “He’s done it,” he said. “He’s fallen for a woman.”

“Not fallen,” he grumbled. Surely not that.

Penny leaned in. “Where did you meet her?”

“Nowhere.”

“Quite a lass, coming from nowhere.” Penny again, being perceptive.