Page 13 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Three

Erroll slowed his walk when the object of his ruminations and her sister emerged from a shop up ahead. The younger Miss Crenshaw carried three large packages while the older held a single small bundle. They both wore white muslin dresses, but the elder sister’s breasts strained against the high-waisted bodice. Erroll recalled the lush flesh brushing his chest as he’d leaned over her bed and he released a slow breath in an effort to stop the thickening in his groin.

Before he allowed his passions to get the better of him, he needed a word with the lady away from the prying eyes of her meddling family. If there was a chance to extricate themselves from the situation, they needed to agree on how best to proceed.

The ladies turned up the street and strolled away from him. Erroll allowed his gaze to fix upon her rounded derrière, but lifted his eyes again before the sight further incited his mounting lust. She wore no bonnet and the afternoon sunlight glinted off her hair just as the candlelight had done last night in her room. Erroll would wager her hair was as soft as her breasts. An irresistible combination bound to keep him awake tonight contemplating.

A man walking toward them stopped to greet them. He first bent over Miss Grace Crenshaw’s hand, then took her sister’s hand. Erroll slowed even more. From this distance, he couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but Erroll was sure his head was raised a tad bit too high for his eyes to linger on her hand. Was he ogling her breasts? He confirmed Erroll’s suspicion by pressing his lips to her hand and lingering a second too long before straightening.

“Hello, Rushton.”

Erroll recognized the voice behind him and sighed as he turned to face Montgomery Paisley. Encountering his old friend here in Manchester only meant the gossip about him and Miss Crenshaw had reached epic proportions.

“Paisley, how are you?”

Montgomery grinned. “Better than you, I suspect. I see your two most recent dalliances up ahead there.”

Erroll scowled, but cast a quick glance at the ladies, who were once again moving down the street away from the bounder. “They are not my dalliances.”

Paisley’s brows rose. “There is too much talk for that not to be true.”

“What are you doing in Manchester?” Erroll asked. “You never leave London.”

Amusement lit his eyes. “That is not true. I am often in Edinburgh, more often than you, in fact.”

“The family properties keep me occupied in England,” Erroll said. And since his return from the navy, he’d staunchly avoided the ones in Scotland.

“I did not know your father held property here in Manchester,” Montgomery said. “Or perhaps it is your mother’s property?”

His friend knew neither his mother nor father owned property in Manchester, and was purposely egging him on. “Are you hiding from your father again?” Erroll asked.

His grin widened. “I am. He is being damned unreasonable, as I imagine your father is, too.”

“He is determined,” Erroll agreed.

“You cannot fully blame him,” Montgomery said. “You have created quite a stir this time.”

Erroll grunted. “I am innocent. For once.”

“You have not been innocent since the schoolroom.”

“As we met during my university days, you cannot comment.”

“Quite right,” Montgomery agreed. “I do have a specific reason for seeking you out. Cunningham asked me to give you this.” He pulled a letter from inside his jacket and handed it to him.

Erroll recognized Lord John Cunningham’s seal and frowned. Parliament was not yet back in session and the young marquess was seeking counsel?

“Bad news?” Montgomery asked.

Erroll slipped the letter into his coat pocket unopened. “I imagine it is more along the lines of Cunningham feeling uncertain in regards to some inconsequential detail.”

“The marquess didn’t strike me as a man prone to nerves.”

“Sitting in the House of Lords does that to a man.”

“How is he doing?” Montgomery asked.

“Quite well. He’s young, but enthusiastic, and smart as the devil.”