Nicholas was dressed—but for his tailcoat—in last night’s evening kit. Apparently, he’d not gone to bed. She cast a furtive glance at the whisky decanter on the edge of his desk, breathing a tiny sigh of relief to see that it was mostly untouched.
“Don’t worry, I’m not drunk,” he said dryly. “And you could have gotten dressed. The house isn’t on fire.”
“Braden gave me cause to understand it was an emergency.”
The young man grimaced an apology, and continued to chew on his nail. Victoria reached across and gently pulled his hand down. It was startling to see the normally calm and mature Braden so discomposed.
“It is an emergency,” Nicholas said.
“How can I help?”
“Please sit and read this,” he said, handing her the letter.
She took it from him and sank into the club chair. By the time she’d reached the second paragraph, her brain felt woolly.
“The twins and Royal have eloped,” Braden burst out. “With girls.”
“Yes, with girls, thank God for small mercies,” Nicholas said. “Given all the jokes about Highlanders and sheep.”
Victoria should scold him for making such an inappropriate jest, but she was too stunned by what she was reading. In the note, Angus set out his plan to help the brothers abscond with prospective brides. The twins had indeed eloped, with Miss MacBride and Miss Peyton. She was surprised to realize their relationships had grown so serious.
Her brain stumbled over the next paragraph.
“Royal eloped with Lady Ainsley?” she asked. “How is that possible? He doesn’t even much like her.”
“I will be sure to ask him when I run them all to ground,” Nicholas said grimly.
She squinted down at the letter. “I don’t understand. Why did they have to elope? This is Scotland. All they had to do was find a vicar.”
“Keep reading,” Braden said.
After a minute, she gave up trying to decipher the heavily blotted scrawl. “There’s something in here about handfasting and then a kirk up in Kinglas, but I can’t make out the rest.”
“Angus has convinced them to do things the old-fashioned way,” Nicholas said. “The Highlander way.”
“Which is?”
“You seize the girls you want to marry and carry them off, hopefully to the nearest kirk,” Braden said in an unhappy tone.
Victoria almost fell out of her chair. “Are you saying these girls were taken against their will?”
“That’s what we need to find out.” Nicholas glanced at the clock. “And I’ve got to get after them as soon as possible. If I take my curricle, I should be able to catch them. With a minimum of six people traveling—”
“Seven, with Angus,” Braden added.
“Right, seven people and probably some luggage. I should be able to track them down before long.”
“Do you know when they left?” Victoria asked.
“Sometime between one and four o’clock, as far as I can tell,” he replied. “If we can get the girls back to Glasgow before tonight, we may just be able to avoid total disaster.”
When he pulled his coat from the back of his chair and started to drag it on, Victoria held up a hand to stop him. “Wait. We must think. What will happen if you don’t catch up with them?”
“Then I will be facing down two irate fathers—not to mention Alec—who are primed to shoot me and my brothers.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps not. Those two girls are smitten with the twins. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went along willingly.”
“But you’re not sure.”
