Page 26 of Wouldn’t it Be Scottish?

“Sorry, eh, we were drinking champagne.”

“At the picnic? In the dark?”

“No, at Lord Kilsyth’s house. Agatha and I are engaged. We were celebrating.”

Slowly, Jennie marked her place in her book and set it down. “I thought you and Agatha were pretending to be fond of each other to make Richard and Mary jealous? How is it you are now engaged?” Her voice was slightly higher than usual. Donal hoped she wasn’t going to start a scene or ask questions he couldn’t answer.

“It isna meant to be a real engagement. I mean Lord Kilsyth thinks it is, but Agatha said it isn’t. She wants to bring Mary to her senses. I’m no’ sure Mary cares who I marry, not when she wants to wed Belvoir. I want to marry Agatha, Auntie, even if she doesna think our betrothal is real. I’m just going to bide my time, and I’m a patient sort of man.”

“I think you need to start at the beginning,” his aunt said grimly.

He knew he was babbling as he went on to try to explain about the rainstorm and the house where they had taken shelter, and how the rain wouldn’t stop, and it wasn’t until much later that they learned their disappearance had caused a tempest of gossip equal to the tempest they had been caught in.

Jennie was watching him as if he had turned into a toad. “And what of Richard?” she asked. “Didn’t Agatha want to marry him?”

“Richard was there when we got back. He said Agatha was compromised and he would marry her. I couldna have that, Aunt Jennie. She doesna love him, and he certainly doesna love her. So I asked Agatha to marry me instead, and she said yes.”

Jennie seemed perplexed. “But don’t you love someone else?”

“I’m beginning to wonder about that, too,” he said.

“Let me see if I have it right. You and Agatha are pretending to be engaged to make Mary see sense, even though you no longer want Mary to see sense. And you have been drinking champagne to celebrate your pretend engagement.”

“That was Lord Kilsyth’s idea. He seemed inordin . . . ordinat . . . he seemed very pleased.”

“Of course he is,” Jennie said darkly. “He has exchanged a mere sir for a duke’s son.”

Donal was surprised. “I thought he was your friend.”

Jennie waved a hand. “He is, but recently I have heard things about him that made me wonder. If I had known you were about to become engaged to his daughter, I might have said something.” She closed her eyes. “You had better go to bed, Donal. You are a dear lad but rather innocent when it comes to the ways of the world. We will discuss this again tomorrow when I feel stronger. Perhaps you do not need to be engaged to Miss Kilsyth after all.”

Donal wanted to protest her judgment of him. Besides, he liked being engaged to Agatha. He wanted to marry her. When they had sat together, making silly toasts and laughing, with her eyes alight and her warm smiles, he had thought she was one of the prettiest, nicest girls he had ever met. But he didn’t think he would be able to say that to his aunt in his current state without it sounding like nonsense, so he said nothing and stumbled away to his bed.

Chapter Fifteen

Agatha woke up to the sound of voices downstairs. She had a headache. She had drunk rather a lot of champagne last night, but it had been fun, and it had felt as if she and Donal truly were engaged. She had been happy, genuinely happy, the feeling bubbling about inside her like the champagne bubbles in her glass.

It was a long time since she had been that happy. Or felt that anything was possible, and the world was suddenly a much brighter place.

Climbing out of bed, she rang for the maid, who informed her that the Countess of Strathmore was here to see her, so she quickly washed and dressed and had her hair brushed and pinned up. When Agatha arrived in the drawing room, she found the countess seated on the ugly, tapestry-covered sofa with a cup of tea and a macaroon.

“My dear,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I had to come when Donal told me about your engagement. Your father assures me it was agreed to by both parties, and he obviously believes it to be genuine, but I must admit I am a little concerned.”

Agatha sighed inwardly. She knew what was coming. “There is no need to be concerned,” she said as she sat down beside the older woman.

The countess carried on as if she hadn’t heard her. “Donal’s parents have entrusted him into my care. They were rightfully dubious after what happened with Callum and Rory, but I insisted I would not allow their youngest boy to come to any harm. Can I assure them that is still the case? I am not at all sure. Is he still hoping to win back Mary Davidson? Last night he was celebrating his engagement to you as if it were real. And as for you, your plan to have Sir Richard return to your side seems to have been tossed aside for this new scheme of a pretend engagement. An engagement that your father believes is real. I am sure you can see why I am anxious for my nephew, Miss Kilsyth.”

Reminded of what had happened with Donal’s two older brothers, Agatha felt a wave of sympathy for the countess. Had the duke or duchess blamed her? She rather thought the MacKenzie sons were too headstrong to listen to good advice, even from their Aunt Jennie.

“I am sorry if you are anxious, Countess. My father is happy with my engagement with Donal because he wants it to be real. I haven’t told him the truth. I will though. I promise I will.”

“The truth being?”

“That this is just a continuation of what Donal and I were doing before,” she continued earnestly. “I truly believe that if Mary is convinced Donal will be lost to her forever, she will finally come to her senses.”

“But not Richard? Donal said Richard offered for you, and you refused him.”

“Yes. He did offer for me, but I know he does not love me. Not in the way I want, and I can’t imagine marrying someone who does not love me. I was heartbroken when he came to London, but I have grown to accept that he prefers Miss Elliot. We will never be husband and wife. So, no, I will never marry Richard, but I can still help Donal.”