The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,65

time, since she was simply so much older than me. But I could tell when she adored someone—as rarely as it happened. And she had genuine affection for this woman she’d just met.

The queen and I shared a few more words before we took our seats in the outside garden. Overhead lights streamed across the tables, and the garden was blooming with summer flowers. Waiters brought delicacies and never let a glass go empty.

Lord Provost sat on my left while London sat on my right. I engaged in conversation about the general happenings in Scotland. He asked me about Stirling Castle, and I gave him a polite answer. His wife sat beside him, beautiful but clearly bored.

Dinner was served, and the quiet conversations continued.

London ate everything on her plate even though she hardly ever had much of an appetite. She never asked what anything was even though it probably wasn’t obvious to a foreigner. She did her best to be as respectful as possible, even though she was trapped at my side.

The First Minister took to the stage and began the award ceremony, recognizing Scottish citizens for their contributions to the territory, as well as the United Kingdom as a whole. They listed off a few names, one man serving in the military, and another for her social work at an orphanage.

And then they called my name.

“The Duke of Rothesay. For excellence in preserving history and tradition, the scotch created in this glorious country continues to give Scotland its fine name. In addition to his founding and continued support of Aberlour Child Care Trust.”

The audience erupted in applause, and I rose from my seat, catching a glimpse of the shocked expression on London’s face, and then walked to the front to be kissed by the queen and receive my award. Photographers took our picture before I returned to my seat.

London still looked shocked. “Did you know?”

I nodded then sipped my wine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“Because I wanted to see the look on your face—and I did.”

18

London

As the night progressed, we were moved inside the palace for dessert and wine. Men lit up cigars, and people spoke quietly together, the mingling continuing. Even though I knew the date, it seemed like I had stepped back in time to another era. I was standing among monarchs whose blood ran deep into history.

Including my date.

Crewe was social as he chatted with people he’d known since childhood, princes from distant lands and monarchs from other countries. His hand was usually around my waist, keeping me close to his side like I might drift away.

We moved away and approached the dessert table, the decadent sweets appeared almost fake because they looked so good. I wanted to try one of the brownies, but I was terrified of getting anything on my dress. Normally, I wouldn’t care. But this gown cost a fortune, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of these noble people.

“Are you going to get anything?” Crewe asked quietly, standing beside me.

“I want to but…” My hand moved to my stomach. “I shouldn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous, and you know it. You can eat everything on this table and still be the most beautiful woman in this room.”

His compliment swept through my entire body, making me feel warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. “I’m just afraid I’ll stain my dress…”

“Oh…” He smirked and covered it as he drank his wine. “Well, yeah. You better not do that.”

I had the strength to turn away from the delicious morsels, but I secretly knew I would regret not trying everything at this dinner. “I have to ask you something.”

“Great,” he said with a sigh. “I knew the questions would start eventually.”

“You sell intelligence to people, right?”

His eyes darkened at the topic. “Yes. It’s one of my many businesses.”

“So, you mingle with all these monarchs like you’re friends and then turn around and sell their secrets for cash? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem rich enough to not have to resort to such betrayal.” I couldn’t keep the accusation out of my tone. Sometimes he did thoughtful things that surprised me, and then I remembered he did unforgivable things too.

“You’re right, for the most part.”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

He didn’t even bother to pretend to look guilty. “I have my reasons.”

“There’s a reason besides money?”

He discreetly glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us. “I don’t sell intelligence from my allies. That

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