Chapter Thirteen
Angus strode with his usual confident swagger along Jasmyne Street.
His boots rang out. He wasn’t wearing his kilt because he didn’t want to be noticed—he was still amazed that such an ordinary piece of clothing had caused such a stir at the park.
He might look self-assured as he neared Miss Armstrong’s front door, but he wasn’t.
This was the first time in a long while he had set out to win over a woman, and never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would set his sights on an English woman.
He hesitated as he lifted his hand to the knocker, and then told himself not to be a coward, and let it fall. She might have changed her mind anyway, he told himself. All of his primping was probably for naught. Mabbe he should find a quiet drinking house and drown his sorrows.
The door opened and Selina smiled up at him.
Angus was struck speechless. He wondered what it was about her that turned him glaikit.
She wasn’t a beauty like her mistress, and she wasn’t curvy like the lassies he usually favored.
She was tall and skinny, and there was a sparkle in her blue eyes that suggested he wouldn’t always get his own way with her.
Not without some persuasion. But weren’t the best things in life worth working for?
Tonight she was wearing a cloak, the hood thrown back so that her fair hair reflected in the glow of the streetlamp. And she was smiling.
They had made this arrangement as soon as they’d learned about the Bohemian Ball. Callum and Penelope would both be elsewhere, so why shouldn’t Angus and Selina meet up? It was innocent enough, which didn’t explain Angus’s jitters.
“Good evening,” Selina said, when the silence drew on.
“Good evening to you, Miss Halliday,” Angus replied, and took her hand and tucked it into his bent elbow. Inside her glove, her fingers were cold, and he kept hold of her with his larger hand, warming her.
They set off for their stroll.
Selina was tall enough for him not to crick his neck when he met her gaze, unlike Miss Armstrong, who was so wee a decent sized man would have to pick her up to kiss her.
He rather thought Callum wanted to do just that.
Guiltily, Angus admitted to himself that he should be keeping an eye on his young master, as the duke had ordered him to, but Callum was a grown man.
And Angus was certain if he had suggested going along to the ball with him, Callum would have told him no.
He could only hope Callum would not do anything that might further damage his good name in the eyes of the London ton.
The boy—well, he was a man now—was a gentle soul with a kind heart and a strong sense of right and wrong.
If he had a fault, it was being too impulsive.
He jumped in when it would be better for him to wait and consider other options.
As for finding Callum the sort of wife his father wanted for him . . . Angus could only see unhappiness in that plan. The thought of having one of those sneering ladies living in Bonnyrigg, looking down on the MacKenzies, made him shudder.
“You are very quiet,” Selina said at his side, as they strolled.
“I am thinking about my young master,” Angus admitted. “I hope he doesna get up to any foolishness tonight.”
“Ah.” She snuggled close to his side and rested her chin on his arm so that she could look into his face. “I have a feeling he is partial to my mistress.”
He raised his brows as if in surprise, although he had thought the same.
“And that is a good thing,” Selina went on quickly. “She is beautiful and clever, and her life has not been a happy one. You saw what her brother is like?”
“I did,” Angus growled.
Selina paused, choosing her words carefully.
“She has perfect manners and knows which knife and fork and spoon to use at dinner. She can make conversation from the lowest of the low to the highest in the land. I have known her since she was a child, and as a young woman she could hold a room full of people in the palm of her hand. Her parents had friends who were peers of the realm, and they all found her charming. I assure you she would have no trouble in a duke’s castle. ”
He gave her a faint smile. “I think I know where you are going with this.”
“She would make Callum MacKenzie the perfect wife.”
Angus shook his head regretfully. “She is no’ what the duke has in mind.”
They had reached a square with a garden. An owl called out as Selina sat down on a bench and Angus sat beside her. He breathed in the summer evening while he waited for her to answer.
“I understand that,” she said. “But don’t you think it is for your young master to choose his own wife? I have seen the way he looks at her.”
“Mabbe, but she was a kept woman and her reputation will follow her over the border. It could turn out verra badly.”
But even as he spoke, Angus wondered if that was true.
Luna had fallen in love with Maxwell and married him when he was only a gamekeeper, so surely Callum’s parents would understand what it meant to fall in love?
Particularly if Callum chose a woman who was perfect in so many other ways.
Could the duke and duchess overlook Penelope’s reputation?
Angus suspected Maxwell would be the stubborn one there—he was set on the perfect lady for his son.
Selina went on a little desperately. “If they met her, spoke to her, they would see—”
“Aye, I understand what you say, Selina, but it is out of my hands.”
“Mine too,” she said drearily.
Angus added in a grumpy voice, “I just hope Callum will no’ get himself into mischief at the ball tonight. The lad seems to have the knack of getting into trouble wherever he goes.”
Selina patted his arm. “I’m sure he will be perfectly fine,” she soothed. “Miss Armstrong will keep him in line.”
There was a pause, and Angus heard himself blurt out, “I’m glad you are here with me tonight. I am lonely in this big place.”
He could have curled into a ball with embarrassment, but Selina laughed softly and leaned into him. “Then let us make the most of our night of freedom.”
Angus searched her face in the moonlight. She looked as if she would welcome a kiss, so he kissed her.
“Why are you unwed?” he asked her, when he had regained his breath. “I canna believe you are not taken. A woman as kind and handsome as you.”
Selina gave him a sad smile. “I was engaged once. I was to be married. You have heard how Penelope’s parents died in a coach accident?”
He nodded. He had heard about that tragic event from Callum.
“My fiancé was also on the coach. He was Mr. Armstrong’s valet and he was aboard when the accident happened. He died, too. I think . . .” she swallowed. “I think Penelope forgets sometimes that I was affected, too. We both lost people we loved on that day.”
Angus didn’t know what to say. He wrapped his arm around Selina and pulled her in tight against him. “My poor lassie,” he murmured.
She took a moment to recover herself. “I do think of him sometimes—perhaps not as often as I once did—and imagine what my life might have been. We may have had children by now. I always wanted children.”
“You can still have them,” Angus said kindly.
But Selina shook her head. “I fear I am too old now. That door has closed, Angus.”
Angus was ignorant about such matters as a woman’s fertility but he hoped that was not so. Selina deserved happiness—she deserved to have her wishes fulfilled. As he bent his head to kiss her again, he wondered if he was the man to do it.