He reached for her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Then consider it anoffreand apromesseto which I look forward,chère, if you will accept?”

She wasn’t quite sure of the translation, but it seemed Nicholas was implying that he planned to pay her court. This was going to be the best Season. The other girls would be so jealous that Nicholas had sought her out for his attentions. “I would like that.”

A shadow fell across the weak beam of light and Mari looked up, knowing who it would be.

Jamie stood stone-faced in the doorway. “I have come to claim my dance, lass.”

Could it be so late already? Mari realized the crowd on the veranda had thinned considerably. The air was noticeably colder as well, although she wasn’t too sure that wasn’t due to Jamie’s hostile look. “Certainly,” she said quickly, not wanting to hear a lecture, and laid her hand lightly on his forearm, feeling the muscle tense as she did. She hoped Jamie was not getting ready to brawl. It would simply ruin a wonderful evening. “Shall we go in?”

“Aye,” he said, turning toward the door as the music began.

Mari gasped. The band was playing a waltz. She had a sneaking suspicion Jamie had bribed the band to play it.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes as he watched MacLeod escort Mari inside. Wesley—he saw no reason to refer to the man as his father—was right. The damned Highlander was an impediment to his goal of wedding the chit and gaining control of her family’s money.

But for now, he would let it go. For now.