A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,39

on her head, looking a fright. Why did she constantly find new ways to embarrass herself around him?

“Drew didn’t mention it until this morning,” said Agnes. “When did you suggest it to him?”

Ilsa looked at her. “When he met us out walking.” Then she retaliated for the nosy questions. “When you stormed off in disgust because Mr. Duncan was with him.”

Agnes flushed scarlet. “I did not! That was not—! I—my mother needed me, and my sisters!”

“Not that you cared about that before Mr. Duncan arrived.” Ilsa tilted her head. “And you were very abrupt with him at the Assembly Rooms the other evening . . .”

Her friend’s chin set mulishly. “So you continued walking with Drew and Mr. Duncan for some time, for him to tell you about this house and you to make suggestions about visiting it.”

“Oh no,” said Ilsa. “Mr. Duncan left almost as soon as you did. Fair ran away, now that I think about it. He makes such a fine figure in his kilt. A man with good legs—”

“Ilsa!” Agnes’s eyes flashed. “Are you flirting with my brother?”

She paused. She was certainly trying not to. “No.”

“Why did he invite you?”

Now it was her turn to go pink. “I’ve no idea. You must ask him. He’s your brother.”

Agnes bit her lip. “You haven’t forgotten that he’s going to live in England and become a duke, have you?”

Not for one bloody minute. “I have not.” She forced a smile. “Three days’ time! What shall I pack?”

Agnes came to take her hands. “I know you’ve been determined to go your own way and find your own pleasures these last few months. And you deserve it, you really do. I just—I just worry—”

“What?” Ilsa drew a determined breath and met her friend’s gaze. “You worry I will callously trifle with your brother? I shan’t. Even though you were right, I do like him. You never told me he was so delightfully irreverent, nor so considerate of you and your sisters.”

Agnes raised one brow skeptically. As if she knew how tissue-thin that excuse was.

Ilsa threw up one hand. “The captain told me he was going to visit a house, and I suggested a house party for your sake because of your distress over his future inheritance. My dear,” she said gently as Agnes jerked free and retreated a step. “That is not his fault, or his choice. You know these things—titles—are very strictly decided, not bestowed at anyone’s whim. Your brother is to be commended for recognizing what it will allow him to do for his family, not just for himself, and stepping manfully into the responsibilities of the position.”

Agnes sighed. “If only it weren’t a dukedom! Something simpler, a baronetcy or something would be perfectly fine. Or better yet, just a fortune, unencumbered.”

“Fortunes are always encumbered,” said Ilsa wryly.

At this reference to her late husband, Agnes went pale. “I didn’t mean—”

Ilsa shook her head. “I know. Just as my suggestion meant nothing beyond what it was.”

“So,” said the other woman on a sigh. “Shall you go with us? You must, you know, as it was all your idea and now Winnie and Bella are eager to hunt ghosts.”

An image of the captain draped in ragged sheets and rattling a chain to amuse his sisters crossed her mind, and she bit back a smile. “If you wish me to come, I shall.”

For Agnes, she told herself, and her sisters. And she would do her very best not to flirt with their impossibly appealing brother.

Chapter Nine

Drew racked his brain for which gentlemen of his acquaintance he could expose to his sisters and finally realized he only knew three.

Duncan, of course; that die had been cast, although Drew planned to keep a close eye on any interaction between him and Agnes. He was still plotting how to ask about it without Duncan giving him some mocking nonsense, as was his friend’s habit in most serious conversations.

For the others, he decided on Adam Monteith, who was a capital fellow and could hold his tongue—and his liquor—far better than Will Ross; and Alexander Kincaid, who had known his family for years.

There might, Drew acknowledged privately, be another benefit to their company. They were the three best golfers he knew, and Edwards had said there was a course bordering the grounds of Stormont Palace. If the company became a bit trying, they could make an escape to the links.

When he broached the idea, none of them laughed. “Perth?” repeated Monteith in surprise. “How have you got