Chapter 11
So much happened last night at Vin’s welcome ball. Rumor has it that Vin caught Harry kissing Moira in the hall and nearly beat the stuffing out of him before Vin was caught scandalously kissing her as well by that horrid, gossiping toad, Reginald Wallis!
I cannot even countenance the former, as my brother would have undoubtedly caused Harry some visible damage, but the real news is that because of the latter, Vin and Moira have become engaged!
I will have my chance with Harry at last!
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The Glenrothes Townhouse
117 Eaton Square
Belgravia, London, England
Three nights later
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Two years.
The last words she said to Aylesbury then had been hurled at him in anger, and then the bitterness she harbored toward him had lain dormant until she had seen him again.
One would think that such a length of time would diminish it, but her blood boiled each time she saw him, and now yet again, it began to simmer at the mere sight of him standing at the drawing room door with Hobbes at his side as the butler announced him.
“My lady, the Marquis of Aylesbury.”
As overwhelming as his appearance was, Fiona didn’t want the anger that fired her blood.
Didn’t want the past to encroach on her future.
She resented its intrusion into her life almost as much as she resented his.
In fact, she’d decided that the best course of action would be to avoid his company altogether while they were in London.
To focus her attention on performing her role in her brother’s little production as planned and moving forward with her own sub-plot to his scheme.
And it would have played out just fine if Aylesbury had properly taken his cues from her and stayed well enough away.
“What on earth is he doing here?” The question was asked of no one in particular, but Eve provided the answer anyway as Moira played hostess and went to greet the interloper.
“I invited him to dine with us.”
Fiona shook her head, struck witless by incomprehension. “But–but...why?”
Eve eyed her curiously. “I thought that with the numbers odd at the table tonight, what with all the younger lads out for the evening, you would enjoy a pleasant dinner companion.”
They expected her to sit next to him, as well?
“Besides, we like him.”
Granted, Fiona had never breathed a word of what had occurred between her and Aylesbury to anyone in the family.
Still, they must have taken some hint from her unmistakable displeasure at seeing him again?
From their recent conversation? At least enough to assume she was not as overjoyed with his presence as they all were.
Even an inkling that she might be irked to find him as her dinner partner.
“Evie, whatever you think you might accomplish with this, you’re wrong.”
Vin spoke from her other side. “What is he doing here?”
Fiona raised a brow to Eve. “It seems he is here because we like him.”
“Like him?” Vin scoffed, tossing back his drink in a single swallow. “He’s as irritating as a horse’s arse, is what he is. There’s not a serious bone in his body. He’s...What’s the word? Irksome.”
“Hubristic,” she added with relish, pleased to have an ally who shared her dislike of the marquis.
Her brother nodded, casting her a satisfied grin. It seemed he felt the same way. “Cocky.”
“Pribbling.”
“Vainglorious.”
“Nonsense,” Eve countered with a smile for Vin. “You’re only saying that because he was in love with Moira.”
It stung to hear it out loud. But then, the truth often did. Just as it had to listen to him admit his love for another unknown woman so publicly.
Moira’s laughter had them turning to find her nearby on Aylesbury’s arm. “In love with Harry? Heavens no!”
“Not at all,” the marquis concurred smoothly, his somber gaze falling on Fiona though she refused to meet his eye. “We were too good of friends. Like an old married couple. Like a comfortable slipper.”
“Well, I like that!” Moira laughed, hugging his arm affectionately. “I’m a slipper now, am I?”
“Yes.” A shadow of a smile passed over Aylesbury’s lips. “All worn in.”
“I rather think she’s like a new pair of shoes,” Vin said dryly. “Always pinching. Do you mind, Aylesbury?” he added over the laughter. “I’ll take my wife’s arm and put it back where it belongs.”
Moira abandoned the marquis in favor of her husband quickly enough, and Vin led her away, whispering something in his wife’s ear that prompted what could only be labeled as a provocative laugh.
Fiona watched them go, but Eve caught her eye, looking pointedly at Aylesbury before she, too, slipped away, leaving Fiona standing alone with the marquis in the middle of the room.
Aylesbury rocked back on his heels but didn’t speak. She didn’t know what he was waiting for, but whatever it was, he wouldn’t get it from her. Instead, she stared up at an oil paint landscape hanging above the fireplace until the brushstrokes began to blur. He studied her just as intently.
Finally, he spoke in that deep, melodic baritone that once rang musically in her ears and now grated against her tightly strung nerves. “I wanted to apologize for abandoning you so rudely in the park yesterday. Business called me away.”
“Business?” she repeated, lifting a mocking brow. “Is that what you call it?”
He winced at her suggestive tone. He hadn’t considered what his departure might have looked like from her point of view. “Of sorts. I’d like to explain.”
Her lips compressed into a flat—regrettably familiar—line. “You needn’t explain anything to me, Harry Brudenall,” she said with brisk indifference. “I am not your keeper, nor does it matter to me what your business is.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping you had missed my company.”
“You hoped wrong. I do quite well without it, thank you.”
“Do you?”
* * *
Unable to bear his company and proximity even a moment longer, Fiona turned on her heel and walked away from him yet again. Taking a glass of wine from a footman as she passed, she made her way to the corner of the room where Richard and Abby were chatting with Ilona and Coline.
With a tight smile, she worked her way to Ilona’s side, fuming internally as the conversation wended its way around her.
But Fiona did not hear a word of it. Aylesbury’s presence had her so tied in livid knots that all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears while tension roiled in her gut.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be here with him.
Sharing the same city was bad enough, but to occupy the same room?
To sit next to him at dinner? The anger she harbored for him might have worked from a distance, but it was useless with him standing right next to her.
There was too much behind them. Too much pain was still in her heart when she was near him.
And she hadn’t even met his eye yet and already he had her dwelling in the past.
She didn’t need to look back. She only wanted to move forward. With Ramsay. Or if Francis denied her that, with someone else. Good God, anyone else at this point.
Not even if Aylesbury came to her on his knees...
Not that there was even a chance of that happening.
“You could freeze hell with that look,” Richard said quietly. “Are you not glad to see Aylesbury again, Blossom? I can clearly remember you once saying that he was everything a woman could want in a man.”
Yes, she had said that once upon a time.
Aylesbury did have everything a normal woman would want.
He was titled, wealthy, charming, and witty.
And that smile! Oh, he hadn’t shown it yet tonight but he soon would.
The barely contained humor, the endless cheer.
All of it practiced and calculated to melt a woman’s heart.
“He is still a bachelor, I hear.”
Was he? Then who was she? No, I don’t care!
Fiona gnashed her teeth. “Obviously, a far better choice than Lord Ramsay, right?” she asked with bitter sarcasm. “Is that why he’s here?”
Good Lord, if her family somehow thought to neatly substitute Aylesbury for Ramsay at her side, she thought she might have to elope after all.
“No, but it is an intriguing idea, isn’t it? We all like him, and he is a handsome one, isn’t he?” Abby teased, squeezing her husband’s arm.
“Enough of that from you,” Richard growled under his breath, hugging his wife to his side.
Aylesbury had a long history of irritating the men in her family. If only he affected the women in the same manner and thus be banned from the MacKintosh home and, hence, her presence.
“Quite honestly, I have to agree with Abby,” Coline said with a broad smile while Ilona nodded her concurrence.
“He is. Isn’t he, Fiona?” Ilona asked pointedly, eyeing her thoughtfully.
“Isn’t he what?”
“Handsome?”
Fiona looked at Aylesbury, who was now conversing with Eve and Francis near the fireplace.
She wasn’t about to admit that there was anything attractive about him, not anymore.
No, there was nothing about him that was handsome to her any longer.
Nothing about those strong features that might be called beautiful or even godlike.
Nothing about the clarity of his bright blue eyes that invited a woman to look into his soul.
Nothing about his wavy black hair that made her fingers itch to run through it.
Nothing about the curve of his lips when a smile lifted the corner of his mouth that could inexplicitly call an answering smile to hers.
Nothing about his height and muscular physique that could conceivably drive a woman to distraction with fantasies of what might lie beneath his finely tailored dinner jacket.
Her fingers tightened around her glass, her knuckles turning white until Ilona discreetly took it from her and set it aside.
No, there was absolutely nothing about Harry Brudenall that could possibly make her blood rush like a flame through her veins. Or make her feel as if she were in a constant flush. Or make her heart race like the wind over the Highlands.
Nothing! Damn him.
“Is he?” Her voice dripped with deliberate disdain. “Showy, perhaps. Like a peacock.”
Richard laughed at that, tossing back his head, but Abby only frowned. “That is rather unkind, Blossom. You rather fancied Aylesbury at one time.”
As if he could feel her eyes on him, Aylesbury lifted his eyes to hers, holding them before lifting his glass in a silent salute. Fiona’s eyes narrowed, now welcoming the return of her anger.
“No, Abby,” she said tightly. “Not any longer. Will you excuse me? I have a frightful headache, I’m afraid.”