Rather than bow her head as was usual, she smiled up at him as she curtsied. “Lord Kirkston, my courageous champion. It is indeed good to see you as well.”
Lord Brixham snorted.
“Problem?” Merry asked, the iciness of her tone pleasing Duncan immensely.
Brixham waved a hand in front of his face. “Dust, my lady. There must be dust in the air.”
“Probably so, since the servants have had little time to attend to aproper cleaning.” She dismissed him with a flick of her wrist and looped her arm through Duncan’s. “Are you and Lord Malcolm quite settled and ready for Parliament?”
“He is a Scot,” Brixham rudely interrupted, “and the elections for the sixteen Scottish seats are yet to be held.”
“Truly?” Merry stared at Duncan, feigning shock. “Are you indeed a Scot, Lord Kirkston? I hadn’t noticed.”
Duncan allowed himself a bit of gloating as he patted the Kirkston crest that pinned his plaid to his shoulder. “Indeed, I am, my lady, and quite proud of the fact as well.”
Lord Brixham snorted again, his lofty expression souring to a sneer. Apparently, the man didn’t appreciate their jest.
“Has Fipps not sounded the bell for dinner?” Serendipity twitched her nose at Merry, reminding Duncan of a nervous Highland hare. “Merry, I thought you said you heard the bell?”
Merry arched her fair brows higher, plainly looking as though she thought her sister silly.
The duke cleared his throat and attempted to wave them toward the sitting area the men had just vacated. “It appears we have a bit longer to wait. Shall I ring for refreshments? Would everyone like a drink before supper? I am sure Cook put together some ratafia. She always does. If not, we could always enjoy some Madeira or sherry.”
Duncan preferred whisky but didn’t wish to be a bother. “Whatever yer cook has ready would be fine, Yer Grace. After all, I feel certain the woman is still settling into her kitchen.”
Merry squeezed his arm as he escorted her to a settee, waited for her to sit, then settled down next to her.
“Chance didn’t scold you for calling today, did he?” she asked.
“I did not,” Broadmere said before Duncan could answer. “I merely mentioned that the two of you were probably plotting my demise for this impromptu dinner party.”
“It is quite all right,” Serendipity said with a genuine smile atDuncan. “After all, we are always pleased to host the gentleman who saved our lives.”
Lord Brixham snorted yet again. “Yes. Your brother and Lord Kirkston regaled me with your harrowing tale.”
“Almost drowningisquite harrowing,” Merry said. “You should try it sometime.”
“Merry!” Serendipity and the duke scolded her in unison.
The viscount threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, my dear Lady Merry, will you never get past our childhood?”
“No. I will not.”
Duncan couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed a dinner party so much.
Fipps appeared at the doorway that led to what Duncan supposed was the dining room. “Dinner is served, Your Grace.”
“Well done, Fipps,” the duke said before muttering, “Just in time.”
Duncan rose and offered Lady Merry his hand. Once again, his heart soared when she didn’t hesitate to take it and move to his side, sliding her arm through his. They entered the dining room, following Broadmere and Lady Serendipity, with Lord Brixham at the rear of their party.Just as it should be.Duncan might be a Scot, but he was still a marquess and outranked a viscount.
The duke directed Duncan to the seat to his left. Merry seated herself next to him. Lady Serendipity sat at the other end of the table, and the unbearable Lord Brixham sat next to Merry, directly to Lady Serendipity’s right. Duncan ached to grab the man by the scruff of his neck and toss him out the window, but didn’t wish to cause a scene. Instead, he clenched his teeth until his jaws ached.
“Thank you again for the dinner invitation,” Brixham said, directing his appreciation to Merry.
“Thank my brother,” she said without batting an eye.
“Lady Merry. Why must you hate me so?”
