Page 43 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

“That’s a shame,” Sorcha said. “I was looking forward to introducing you to Isobel.”

His heart surged into his throat. The whisky sloshed in his glass. He boggled. “Is-is-is . . .” Damn and blast. He couldn’t speak.

“Aye. Isobel. So lovely. She’s Andrew Lochlannach’s daughter. His brother Alexander is the Baron of Dunnet . . .”

She went on for some time, about the family lineage and such, but Nick was oblivious to everything she said.

Because he’d found her again.

His Isobel.

And she wasn’t a maid.

Hell. She wasn’t a maid.

And he’d deflowered her.

He searched for and could not find any horror at the prospect skirling in his soul. His elation completely washed away any consternation that he’d gotten it all wrong, that she was a lady after all.

He’d found her again. His heart sang.

And he wouldn’t have to disappoint his mother.

He was bloody going to the Swofford ball.

Wild horses couldn’t keep him away.

Chapter Nine

“I, for one, canna understand why you are so glum.” Catriona tugged on the reins, urging her mare away from a particularly lush spot of grass. There wasn’t as much as there should be, here in Hyde Park, probably on account of all the horses. A battalion of them.

Such a pity.

Isobel much preferred the early-morning hours for a ride. Now, at the Fashionable Hour, it was crowded with carriages filled with people who seemed to be there for no other reason than to see and be seen. Rotten Row was crammed with horsemen vying for position. This was hardly the calming ride she’d envisioned.

But she’d needed a ride to shake off the bitterness of that meeting with London’s most malicious mavens. It still peeved her.

“Isobel? Are you listening to me?” Catriona snapped.

“What? Of course I am.”

Cat blew out a breath. “You are not. Honestly.”

“What did you say?”

“I said, I canna understand why you are so glum. It’s a fancy ball. In London. How could it not be fun?”

“Being gawked at?”

“The duchess willna allow them to be rude. Why, insulting us would be tantamount to an insult to her.”

“Aye, but there are insults, and there are insults. Did you notice the way they slighted Aunt Lana?”

“I dinna.”

“Never once did any of them Your Grace her. As though she dinna even hold the title of duchess.”

“I’m sure it was an oversight.”