Page 35 of Wouldn’t it Be Scottish?

Donal gave a harsh laugh. “He can try, but I am over twenty-one. No, I think he will be relieved. My brothers’ wives were far more scandalous than you. He will think himself lucky.”

Agatha was not sure the duke would be so amused by their plight. “Does your father like donkeys?” she asked in a hopeful voice.

Donal gave an amused snort of laughter. By now they were outside her house and the coach came to a halt. “We will talk tomorrow,” he promised her. “Dinna fret, my love. Everything will be all right.”

And Agatha decided to believe him.

*

“You are still engaged then?” Aunt Jennie was staring at him as he stepped inside. She had been waiting for him and looked rather anxious.

“Aye, but properly now,” Donal said. “We love each other, Auntie.”

Jennie’s eyes widened. “Oh! That is good news . . . at least I think it is. I always believed the two of you would make a good match. However, Donal I am worried about Kilsyth’s situation. He is not as flush with funds as he pretends.”

Donal blinked. “You are well informed,” he said. “Yes, he is in a bit o’ bother, but nothing that would stop me marrying his daughter.”

Jennie gave him an irritable look. “But if Archie Kilsyth wants you to marry his daughter for your money, isn’t that a problem? I am sure Maxwell will think it is!”

“Aunt Jennie, my father will be overjoyed I am marrying Agatha. Do you no’ remember Callum’s wife? And Rory’s? Compared to them, Agatha is as pure as the driven snow.”

Jennie gave an unwilling smile. “I suppose you are right, Donal. But remember when you first arrived in London, you were in love with Mary Davidson. That was not so long ago. Now you are in love with Agatha Kilsyth. Are you completely sure—”

“I have given that some thought,” Donal said. “I did love Mary, but I wonder if that was because we grew up together. She was a part of Bonnyrigg, of my life. I used to think I didn’t want anything to change. I was a wee bit scared of change, to be honest. But I have learned that nothing stays the same, and I think it is a good thing that I have changed too.”

Jennie patted his hand. “I am glad then. And just so you know, I never thought Mary was the right girl for you.”

“Agatha is the girl for me,” Donal said with certainty.

He was remembering in the garden and then the coach. Agatha under his mouth, the sounds she had made as he tasted her most intimate flesh. And then his body inside hers, the rush of pleasure and the wonderful release. He could have had that before with other women, but he was glad he had waited for Agatha. It was loving Agatha that made everything special.

Even Rory, that former womanizer, had discovered that love made all the difference. And now he had met Grace and was reformed. Donal didn’t need reforming, he never had, but the change of scene had been good for him. He had grown up.

Jennie gave a sigh. “I hope you are going to speak to your father soon,” she said. “He will probably blame me for this as he did your brothers’ circumstances.”

“I will write to him tonight,” he said. “And dinna worry, I will tell him you have been verra stern with me.”

Jennie smiled at him fondly. “Hmm.” Then, her smile turning down, “I will miss you, Donal.”

“When is my uncle coming home?” he asked, understanding perfectly what ailed her.

“This week or next,” she said. “Sooner I hope.”

“Good.”

Jennie looked thoughtful. “I wonder if Cat will visit me next? She is the only MacKenzie who hasn’t come south to London.”

Donal considered the idea of his sister being in London. He suspected she would take the town by storm, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Was Cat ready for London? Was London ready for Cat?”

“I will miss you, Aunt Jennie,” he said warmly.

Jennie blinked back tears. “I will miss you, too,” she said. “I think I will persuade Jamie to go north with me when he comes home. We need to pay a visit to Luna and Maxwell. And I want to reacquaint myself with your brothers and their wives.”

Donal gave her a hug, possibly too forcefully, but she didn’t complain.

Upstairs, he found Bothwell perched on his bed.

“Are you making sure I am really going?” he asked, eyeing the cat uneasily.