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K it watched Mary stride away. All he had wanted to do was kiss her, and he’d stupidly picked the busiest part of the house. Then he’d forgotten to address her properly. What a sapskull he was turning into. What the devil was wrong with him? He’d never done anything so outré in his life.

“Featherton.”

Rutherford’s voice startled Kit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“That,” his friend said dryly, “was apparent. Do you know if there are plans for us to-day?”

“Yes. Lord Titus is taking us around while the ladies pay morning calls.”

“That might not be so bad. I have to admit that the Scotch whisky was extremely good last night. I never would have thought it.”

Kit shook his head. “As long as we are not subjected to any separatist political talk, it will be fine. Living in England, one forgets how the Scots consider us.”

“I believe we have worse relations with them than we do with the French.”

“Considering we smuggle in brandy and have onerous taxes on Scotch whisky, I can see their point.”

Still, as long as it didn’t interfere with Kit’s courtship of Mary, he couldn’t care less about the cross-border enmity. Then he remembered that Lady Theo wanted to introduce Mary to prospective husbands. Scots or English, he’d protect her from all of the scoundrels.

An hour or so later, Kit and his friends were ensconced in a cozy building on St. Andrew Square called the New Club.

The coffee was excellent. The latest London papers, albeit two days old, had been provided, as well as the Edinburgh newssheets.

Several local gentlemen, as well as those visiting for the Season, stopped by to talk with Lord Titus and be introduced to Kit and his friends.

He lifted his cup to find only dregs; then again, he’d had enough coffee to last him for at least a week.

After an hour or so, he felt as if he’d met most of Edinburgh’s bachelors on the prowl.

Most of them on the hunt for a wife. Which, according to many of the gentlemen, was the only reason to be in the city for an extended period of time.

Some of the Highlanders acted as if they’d be perfectly happy to dispense with the courting and toss a lady over their shoulders for the journey home.

The thought of any of them focusing on Mary as their quarry, made the almost constant pain in his jaw even worse. He had to stop clenching his teeth. On the other hand, he was lucky he wasn’t developing a tic.

Maybe he should just take Mary in his arms and carry her off.

He tried to envision himself doing that, and the thought shriveled, flopped around a bit, and died.

He had no doubts concerning his physical prowess.

He’d even scored a few hits on the great Jackson himself, but that just wasn’t his way.

He had no need to strut around calling attention to himself and what he was doing.

The women he’d been with had always appreciated his discretion.

Many in the ton didn’t even realize he had had liaisons.

Not the slightest breath of scandal had ever attached to him, and it could not.

He had one sister out, another who’d come out next year, one the year after that, in addition to two younger brothers who looked up to him as a model for their own behavior.

He’d already had long discussions with the boys about bullies at Eton and showed them how to handle such situations.

He’d even taught the girls some defensive moves and ensured that all his brothers and sisters knew they could come to him about anything.

Kit had always held himself to a higher standard. It would never do for his behavior to be compared with that of his long dead older half-brother.

He prayed Mary didn’t want or need the young peacocks swaggering around the club, especially the ones in kilts. If she did, that would present not only a problem but the potential of an extremely large scandal.

“I hear ye will be at the ball tonight.” A tall young man with black hair and broad shoulders, whose name Kit had misplaced, stood next to Lord Titus’s chair. “And ye have with ye a Sassenach lookin’ for a husband.”

Christ, they’d only been here a little over a day. Kit’s fingers curled into a fist as the name came to him. Lord Duff .

“You’ll have to discuss that with Lady Theo,” Lord Titus responded smoothly.

“Aye, I’ll do that.” Duff stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Mayhap, my mother will know aught. Time and more I had a few bairns of my own.”

Not with Mary, the coxcomb wouldn’t. If this were London, the betting would have already begun. Damn, Kit should have thought of that before. “Lord Titus, is there a betting book here?”

“There is, but you have to be a member. Besides, it’s not the same as in London. Bets here are normally for horse races and contests. Not raindrops racing down the window, or ladies.”

Relief flooded in, easing the ache as Kit’s jaw unclenched. “As it should be.”

With the ball this evening, and the other entertainments, it appeared Edinburgh was going to be even busier for him than London. Not only would he be expected to dance with young ladies, he’d have to protect Mary as well. Perhaps it was time to stop being the most perfect gentleman guest.

Apparently the polite fifteen minutes rule did not apply across the border.

They were at their fifth house on their visits.

Here guests were meant to be fed well. Mary was going to float away or require a hasty trip to a water closet if she drank one more cup of tea.

She’d consumed so many delicious local cakes and biscuits, she had no desire at all to eat luncheon.

Which was fortunate, as it was long past the hour.

She’d been having a wonderful time, until some young ladies decided to focus all their conversation on Kit.

“I hear he’s as handsome as can be.” Miss Clara Ross opened her large blue eyes. “And he came here looking for a bride.”

Where in all of Christendom had that rumor started? Had Kit given up on Mary ? Or rather, she hoped, it was merely gossip.

She lifted her cup to her lips, pretending to drink, and lied. “You do realize that any lady Mr. Featherton married would be expected to live in London. ”

The girl’s hopeful smile faltered for the slightest moment, then Miss Ross rallied. “Oh aye, but he’s so rich a wife could travel, and he’ll be a viscount.”

Indeed he would, but this young lady would not be his viscountess. In her most bored drawl, Mary replied, “Indeed. After, that is, his father, who is in good health and of whom Mr. Featherton is quite fond, is dead. He will naturally ascend to the title.”

That did the trick. Miss Ross shut her mouth and ate a cake. Mary refused to consider her own behavior. With these bold Scottish girls, Kit needed someone to protect him.

Lady MacDiarmid was announced. She entered the parlor, smiling like a cat who’d found a particularly juicy mouse.

Behind her was a young lady who looked to be an exact replica of her ladyship when she was a decade or two younger.

Rich brown hair, medium height, and slender build, but well endowed.

Mary had rarely seen two more beautiful women.

The older lady, followed by the younger one, curtseyed. “I’m so pleased we’re not too late to meet Lady Theo’s visitors.”

“You almost were, Morna.” Lady Theo allowed the other lady to buss her cheek. “We are leaving shortly.”

Undaunted, Lady MacDiarmid smiled and said, “You remember my daughter, Finella?”

“Of course I do.” Lady Theo squinted at the girl for a moment. “Surely she is not old enough to be out yet?”

The other lady raised a brow. “Sixteen, the same age as I was.”

A look of disgust passed so quickly over Lady Theo’s face Mary almost thought she’d imagined it, except for what came next.

“Then you should know better.”

The pleasant mask on Lady MacDiarmid never slipped. “I can assure you, Finella is much better prepared than I was.”

Lady Theo rose. “We’ve had a lovely time, but I’m afraid we must be leaving.”

Mrs. Cameron, their hostess, had a look of unfettered relief on her pleasant countenance. “Thank you so much for coming by, my lady.” Her gaze included Mary and her friends. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I suppose I’ll see you this evening.”

“You will indeed.” Theo marched out, leaving the rest of them to follow like a flock of chicks after their mother hen.

“What do you think that was about?” Caro whispered to Mary .

“I have no idea, but I have a feeling we’ll find out.”

Once they were in the carriage, Lady Theo’s lips tightened, and after several moments she said, “I had hoped she’d wait, but apparently she thinks nothing of auctioning off her daughter the same as she was.”

Mary and everyone else remained quiet.

“Morna was a diamond when she came out. A beautiful, silly young thing. My brother, Simon, the baby of the family, fell in love with her. As did almost every other eligible man, and some who weren’t.

He thought she returned his affections. In fact, he was sure of it.

Then she was married off to MacDiarmid. He was fifty years older than her if he was a day, but he had the title and more money.

He’d been married four times before with no issue to show for it, yet nine months after the wedding, she gave birth to Cormac.

” Lady Theo closed her eyes for a moment.

“He’s the image of Simon. There is no way to be sure who fathered Finella, but it could well have been my brother.

He left for America before the girl was born and hasn’t been back since. ”

The carriage rumbled over cobblestones before turning onto the smoother macadam. Lady Theo’s gaze bore into Mary. “It pains me to say it, but none of them are to be trusted. Morna will be looking for the largest purse she can find for both of her children.”

Mary swallowed. For the first time in almost an hour, her need for a chamber pot receded. “I understand.”