Highland Heiress - By Margaret Moore Page 0,24

don’t often have visitors from Edinburgh in Dunbrachie. That is, Sir Robert has visitors, but they don’t often come to the village.”

“It’s their loss, I’m sure.”

“It’s so good of you to come to cheer Sir Robert up during this time of trial,” Miss Taggart continued in a mournful tone, although her eyes remained bright and alert, as if she were some sort of predatory bird. “We think he’s been very badly used.”

“Very badly,” Miss Swanson breathlessly seconded, while Miss Hornby nodded so rapidly, her extravagantly decorated hat looked in immediate danger of falling off her head. The very wide, brilliantly green ribbons were doing their job of keeping it in place, although it also looked as if the huge bow was keeping her head on her neck, as well.

“That wouldn’t have happened if he’d chosen a local girl,” Miss Taggart declared.

Her friends nodded enthusiastically. No doubt they were local girls, and he wondered vaguely how long their friendships would last if Robbie were to choose one of them.

“There are several suitable young women in and around Dunbrachie who would be honored to be his bride.”

“Honored!” she of the precarious bonnet echoed.

“Delighted!” cried the other young lady.

Miss Taggart glanced at her companions before continuing. “Please let him know that he has friends in the village who think what’s happened to him is a terrible shame—but what else can you expect from strangers? And from Glasgow, too!”

She said “Glasgow” as if that city was a modern Gomorrah and anybody from that location should be automatically discounted as worthy of matrimony.

“I’m sure he already knows he has friends in Dunbrachie,” Gordon replied, wondering if these women would be so enthusiastically sympathetic if they knew Robbie had just purposefully avoided them.

Or how much he drank. And his debts. And the number of women he’d seduced.

Or maybe they already did and didn’t care, because Robbie was titled and handsome. As for the lawsuit, they might think that justified, too, not realizing, as Gordon unfortunately had, that it indicated a level of bitter vindictiveness no man of honor and true nobility should possess. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

Such as keeping Robbie from drinking himself into a stupor in the tavern.

“Oh, yes, of course. Good day, Mr. McHeath,” Miss Taggart said with another grimacelike smile before she took the arm of each of her friends and sauntered off as if she had just made a romantic conquest.

Nothing could be further from the truth, Gordon thought as he started toward the tavern, passing the lane between the baker’s and a bookshop. The next time he and Robbie were in a similar situation, should there be a similar situation—

A hand reached out, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backward into the lane.

Chapter Seven

Gordon raised his hand to strike—until he realized his assailant was wearing a bonnet.

A woman had pulled him into the alley—a woman wearing a bonnet as prettily and expensively decorated as anything Lady Catriona McNare had ever worn, covering glossy dark hair. Her Spencer jacket was velvet, her gown of fine muslin….

He knew who it was even before the bonnet tilted back to reveal Lady Moira’s face. “My lady, what—?”

She put her fingers to his lips to silence him. Although she wore gloves, her light touch was as arousing as a caress along his naked thigh. “Please, speak quietly, Mr. McHeath,” she whispered. “If I’m going to be humble and eat a little crow, I prefer to do it with as few witnesses as possible.”

He would have obeyed any order she gave when she looked at him like that and touched his mouth.

“I have decided that I should, perhaps, be more flexible in my dealings with Sir Robert.”

Why did she have to mention Robbie?

“I’m prepared to consider settling out of court, to save all of us time and expense.”

Of course. It was the lawsuit that brought them together, and the lawsuit, as well as his friendship with Robbie, would keep them apart, always.

Yet he should be glad about this latest development, and not just for Robbie’s sake. His life was in Edinburgh, not here. She was a lady; he was a lawyer. Her family was rich, her father an earl; he had no family at all, or none to speak of. His parents had died when he was a clerk and no siblings had survived infancy. All his aunts or uncles were dead, and his only surviving cousin had emigrated to Canada.

Determined to remember the differences that must keep them