A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,5

it. From the London road it seemed to rise up out of the earth as a kingdom on a hill, the stone houses clustered like acolytes at the foot of the castle, which surveyed the verdant plain imperiously from its perch.

Drew hadn’t been here in over a year, thanks to his posting at Fort George. On his way to Carlyle, there hadn’t been time to stop and visit his family. But now . . .

Now he had plenty of time, and vast quantities of news.

His family occupied a small house just off the High Street. It was evening, and his mother and sisters would have closed up the shop by now. But the only one home when he arrived was Annag, who had been his nurse years ago and refused to leave the family even when means grew tight. Now she was all-purpose help to his mother and sisters. “Oh, Master Andrew!” she exclaimed at his entrance. “Here you are, come at last! And about time, too. Your mother’s been fair worried.”

He laughed, embracing the short, gray-haired woman who was almost as dear to him as his own mother. “I wrote to her when I would arrive.” Though it did not surprise him to hear his mother had been fretting, hoping he would appear three days early.

She pursed up her lips. “And you sounding as English as Butcher Cumberland.”

Drew grimaced. “Aye, I’ve been in England these six weeks,” he said, slipping back into the Scots she spoke. He’d got used to speaking clipped English for the duchess.

“May you recover from it soon,” she said tartly. “None of that here, laddie!”

“No, ma’am. Where are they now?”

“At the Monroes’ for dinner. I’ll send round—”

“No, no, just tell them I’ve arrived. Tomorrow will be soon enough to talk.” He winked at her and turned toward the door.

“They’ll want all the news!” she protested, hurrying after him.

“And tomorrow they shall have it, along with the gifts I brought.” He grinned as her eyes grew wide. “Till the morrow, Annag.”

Duty satisfied, he stepped back out into the street and took a deep breath. It was not an unwelcome surprise to find them out. After a hard week of travel, to say nothing of the weeks of study and instruction at Carlyle, the prospect of a night free tasted as sweet as honey.

As eager as he was to see his family again, he had written to an old friend, begging a bed. Felix Duncan had replied as expected that he was welcome to it. Drew swung back into the saddle and took his horse to a stable before walking up the street, saddlebags over his shoulder, to Duncan’s lodgings in Burnet’s Close.

“Come in,” came a muffled bellow at his knock.

He entered to find his friend practicing feints in front of a cheval glass, pausing to adjust his stance after each stroke.

“Are you rehearsing to fight yourself?” he asked with amusement.

“If I’m to face an equal, I must.” Duncan eyed himself critically and raised his elbow to create a more elegant line from hip to wrist.

“Very good. And if you’re ever looking to face someone better, I’m at your service.”

Duncan abandoned his posing. “Better! Not better. Only taller and with longer reach. God’s eyes, man, you’re a mountain.”

Drew obligingly flexed one arm. “The result of tedious hard labor. You might try it.”

Duncan, who had never done a day’s hard labor in his life, propped his épée on his hip and glared at him. “And will it make me taller? Lengthen my arms? I think not.”

He snorted with laughter. “Nay, you’re a hopeless cause. Doomed to be a reedy little man forever . . .”

Duncan growled and raised his sword, and Drew made a show of yawning in reply. His friend’s face eased into a lopsided grin. “For all that you’re a rude one, ’tis good to see you again, St. James. Welcome.”

“Aye,” he agreed as he clasped Duncan’s outstretched hand. “Many thanks for the use of your spare room.”

Duncan resumed his position in front of the glass. “Anytime you need it.” He raised his épée, watching himself in the mirror again. “Although you’re worse than an old woman, hinting at wondrous revelations and not telling me what brings you back to Edinburgh when you ought to be marching around Fort George in the rain.” He lunged, pausing to flick his queue of ginger hair over his shoulder and slant his eyebrows threateningly.

Drew grinned again. It was true he’d told Duncan some whopping stories when they’d been mischievous