Highland Heiress - By Margaret Moore Page 0,20

out to my club a night or two a week.”

“I trust you also get invited to dinner parties and such.”

“Occasionally,” Gordon replied, not anxious to talk about the last dinner party he’d attended, because Catriona McNare had been in attendance, as well. Instead, he busied himself returning the chess pieces to their starting places on the board.

“Still, I envy you,” Robbie said, leaning his head back and blowing out a puff of smoke. Gordon wasn’t partial to the odor, so he rose and opened the nearest window.

Robbie didn’t seem to notice, or else he didn’t care that his smoke was bothering his friend. “Yes, I do envy you,” he mused aloud. “Your quiet life. Your clear conscience.”

Since meeting Moira and deciding not to tell Robbie about it, his conscience hadn’t exactly been clear.

“Next time I’m thinking of getting married, Gordo, old sod, I’m going to have you to meet the gel first. A judicious, serious fellow like you will make sure I don’t get jilted again.”

Even if he hadn’t had troubles of his own, the last thing Gordon wanted was to become Robbie’s romantic consultant or vet his potential wives. “I’m no fit judge of women.”

Robbie’s brows rose as he sat up straighter and his eyes gleamed with interest. “If a solicitor isn’t a good judge of people, who is?” He tilted his head and regarded Gordon with a studious expression, which was rare for Robert McStuart. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there, Gordo? I can see it in the set of your jaw.”

He should have been more careful. He wondered what he’d say, until Robbie solved his dilemma by speaking first. “You know all my romantic woes. It’s only fair you tell me yours.”

Gordon didn’t want to tell Robbie about Catriona; on the other hand, it might do Robbie good to hear he wasn’t the only man with romantic troubles. “There was a young lady who I thought cared for me, but I discovered I was wrong.”

“Good God, Gordo!” Robbie cried, swiftly stubbing out his cheroot in his empty whiskey glass. “A woman rejected you, too? Who was she?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s all over and done with, Robbie. She was already in love with another man. I wish her every happiness with her husband.”

“How long has it been since she married somebody else? A month? A year?”

“A few months.”

Months that had seemed like years, until he’d met Moira MacMurdaugh up in a tree.

Ever since then, he’d been realizing just how different his feelings for Catriona had been, even from the start. She had been more like a pretty doll he wanted to have in the drawing room to admire than a woman with whom he could build a life.

Moira MacMurdaugh was very much a woman, and he could easily imagine tackling life’s woes as well as its joys with her by his side.

“You’ll have to tell me the cure, because by God, Gordo, I’ve never been more wretched in my life!”

Robbie actually sounded serious.

How could he explain that the cure for a broken heart was the realization that you were never truly in love before? “Getting on with your life,” he offered instead.

“Well, then, let’s get started!” Robbie cried enthusiastically. “Tomorrow’s market day in Dunbrachie. To be sure, it’s nothing like London in the Season, or even Bath, but there’s always some sort of traveling entertainers and plenty of pretty girls, too.”

Gordon could foresee one possible fly in the ointment, for both of them. “Will Lady Moira be there?”

Robbie waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t give a damn if she is, and neither should you. Besides, she’ll steer clear of us if she is, I’m sure. Come on, Gordo! Say you’ll go!”

They probably shouldn’t. Robbie might get drunk, or try to seduce a barmaid or some other woman. He might do something else that would be embarrassing. And he really didn’t want to see Lady Moira again. She was making his life so…complicated.

On the other hand, she might not be there, and raising Robbie’s spirits might be one way to convince him to drop the suit. “All right, Robbie. I’ll go.”

Chapter Six

Dressed in a gown of green-and-blue-stripped muslin, with a blue velvet Spencer jacket and straw bonnet with matching ribbon on her head, her reticule slung over her arm and wearing her second-best kid gloves, Moira strolled down the main street of Dunbrachie toward the green. At one end of the street was the church, with its square belfry. At the other was the tavern and livery

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024