A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,27
my friend Mr. Felix Duncan, and mind you don’t frighten him off with your usual pestering.”
Mr. Duncan bowed to them all in turn. Bella and Winnie responded brightly, eyeing him with interest, but Agnes barely bobbed a curtsy.
“We were on our way home,” said Ilsa. “You must forgive me, Captain, if I’ve kept them too long and inconvenienced Mrs. St. James.”
Bella laughed. “Drew wishes we’d all gone with Mama this morning, I wager!”
“Did she scold you something fierce?” Winnie wanted to know.
Mr. Duncan stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the captain. Agnes’s face was now pale and stony, her gaze fixed into the distance.
The captain gave Winnie an exasperated look. “No, she did not.”
“Then we’re going to England? When?” demanded his sister.
“Nothing is decided yet.”
“Oh? How long do you plan to stay in Edinburgh, Drew?” asked Bella. “Surely you must want a holiday, after spending a month or more at Carlyle.”
His sharp hazel eyes narrowed on his sister. Like Ilsa, he was not fooled by her innocent expression. “I have some things to see to here in Scotland, aye. A month or so, was my intention.”
Wide smiles bloomed in perfect unison on her face and Winnie’s. “Excellent! Shall we go to the Assembly Rooms, then? Do say you’ll come with us! It’s been so long since we’ve been, and you did say you wanted to get out.”
Ilsa was shaking with suppressed laughter. They really meant to parade a string of wealthy Edinburgh ladies in front of him. Over Bella’s head, the captain shot her a quizzical look. She gave him a gleeful smile in reply, imagining his consternation.
“Mama wants us,” said Agnes abruptly. “Ilsa, I will see you later. Drew . . .” She hesitated, then gave him a nod. She did not glance once at Mr. Duncan, although his eyes tracked her departure.
Bella blew out a sigh, and Winnie nudged her elbow. They bade everyone farewell and followed Agnes.
Mr. Duncan cleared his throat. “It appears you’ve got this well under control, St. James. You didn’t need my help at all, aye?” He clapped one hand to his chest and swept a gallant bow. “Au revoir, Madam Ramsay.”
Amused, she let him kiss her hand. “Au revoir, Monsieur Duncan.”
He strode off, whistling, his kilt flapping around his knees. Fine knees, now that she’d got a good look at them. She wondered why Agnes could no longer bear to look at the man.
That left her alone with Captain St. James. Suddenly the empty, windy field felt small and—when she met his gaze—even intimate.
Without asking, rather as if it felt as natural to him as it did to her, Captain St. James fell in step beside her as she headed back toward town. He did not offer his arm, for which she was glad. He was so big and mesmerizing, she didn’t trust herself to touch him.
“I didn’t realize you were acquainted,” said the captain. “With Felix Duncan.”
“We have met a handful of times in the coffeehouse, nothing more.”
His broad shoulders eased. “I apologize for running off all your companions.”
“But you have not.” He blinked at her, and she gave him a teasing smile as Robert trotted up to nudge her hip. She laid her hand on his head. “Not only do I have my dear Robert, sir, you are still here.”
“That’s Robert?” His lips twitched.
Ilsa stroked Robert’s ear. “Yes. Isn’t he a handsome fellow?” She glanced up to catch a flicker of relief in his face. “Who did you think Robert was?”
The captain laughed, a little shamefaced. “I thought he might be your son, when Bella mentioned him the other day.”
Ilsa sighed, bittersweetly. “I love him as much as any child, but he is only a pony.” Robert nibbled the end of her shawl in retaliation, and she had to snatch it away from him. “A naughty pony.”
“There’s nothing wrong with naughty,” murmured the captain, his gaze on her.
“No?” She arched a brow, intrigued.
“At the proper time and place, of course.”
Ilsa clicked her tongue. “But if it’s proper, how can it be naughty?”
“Being naughty at the wrong place or time might be misconstrued as . . . wicked. Certainly scandalous. But at the right time and place . . .”
“So a scandalous or wicked act is merely naughty if no one knows you did it?”
He considered a moment. “Yes, that’s about the sum of it.”
Ilsa choked on a laugh.
He flashed a roguish smile. “Some acts require a willing partner, of course, who would obviously need to know what you