Page 79 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

Beyond that, they both found her and Catriona fascinating.

Or at least they had the good grace to make it seem so.

Isobel enjoyed chatting with them very much, and made it a point to sit between them at lunch.

It was easy to ignore Nick, because he was busy coordinating the meal and because, thanks to his position in the ton, he was required to sit at the head of the very long table, surrounded by the ranking ladies.

His glowers, though, were not so easy to disregard.

A pity it was for him, that they amused her.

She went to great lengths to engender them. Laughing louder than she should. Touching one of their arms when she shouldn’t. Appearing absolutely besotted.

At one point Robert—or was it Declan?—leaned closer and whispered, “Why do you keep looking at him?”

Isobel blinked. “I . . . Ahem. At whom?”

He chuckled. “At The Third. You canna think I dinna notice.”

“The Third?”

“Aye. Edward the Third.” He nodded in Nick’s direction.

Her cheeks went red. “Nonsense. I’m no’ looking at him.”

“Ah! You just did again. You can tell me, lass. Do you have an eye for the Viscount Stirling?”

“Pffft.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of. Many lasses do.”

Well, that was annoying. She frowned. “Many?”

“Aye.”

“How many?”

He threw back his head and laughed.

Her skin prickled. “How many?”

“All of them, I imagine.”

Bluidy hell.

“But to be honest . . .”

That he trailed off and left the sentence dangling there in the wind was vexing indeed.

“About what?”

“I’ve noticed something interesting.”

She frowned at him. “What?”

“Ach.” He leaned back in his chair and rearranged his napkin in his lap. For far too long.

Contravening everything she’d ever been taught about etiquette and decorum, she gouged him with her elbow. “What?”