Page 3 of The Highlander Is All That

“Emissaries?” A squawk. Oh, Esmeralda was not pleased in the least.

“Aye, my lady. His Grace sent us in his stead with the mission of seeing your girls through the season.”

“Emissaries?” Apparently she could process nothing further.

“Aye, my lady.”

Esmeralda tipped back her head so she could look down her nose at these emissaries. “But the duke was supposed to come.”

“He sends his regrets,” the baron said in a warm, sincere tone. In fact, everything about him was warm and sincere, and Elizabeth liked him at once.

“Do come in and sit down,” she said, because it was the polite thing to do and her aunt appeared to have forgotten herself. “Henley, can you bring more tea and cakes?”

“Especially more cakes,” Victoria chirped.

“You must be tired and thirsty.” Elizabeth shot a glance at Hamish to find him smiling at her again.

“It was a long ride,” the baron responded, tugging her attention away from those entrancing green eyes. Like the rolling hills of the Highlands, they were.

“Please, sit,” Anne bestirred herself to say. She hardly even curled her nose.

When they did take their seats, puffs of dust arose; Esmeralda made a sound that was something like a squeak.

Nonplussed, Hamish brushed more dust onto the carpet.

“Do tell us all about your journey,” Mary said, her eyes alight. “I want to hear every detail.” Mary had always been entranced with the prospect of traveling, though she’d had very few opportunities. She’d been but a babe when they’d visited Scotland.

“First things first,” Esmeralda said cuttingly.

“Introductions?” Elizabeth asked.

Her aunt fixed her with a bemused look. Though why she was bemused was a mystery. Anyone who was anyone knew that introductions were always the first thing.

“Oh, all right,” she huffed. “Ranald Gunn. Hamish Robb. These girls are Anne, Elizabeth, Victoria, and Mary,” she said, rudely pointing at them in turn.

“And you are the incomparable Lady Esmeralda,” Hamish said with a wink.

This blandishment had the desired effect. Aunt Esmeralda softened. A tad.

“We’ve heard all about your amazing exploits, all the way up to Duncansby Head,” he continued.

Elizabeth suppressed a shudder at his mellifluous tone. Oh, he had a beautiful voice. And when he was about the business of smoothing ruffled feathers, he was very good.

“Yes, well,” Esmeralda grumbled. “Of course you have.”

“His Grace speaks very highly of you,” the baron said. “He counts himself as very lucky to have you to guide his cousins through the coils of the season.”

“Well, he would.” Esmeralda practically preened.

“And we are honored to be here in his stead.”

This seemed to bring the maven back to the ground. She cleared her throat in a rumble. “Which begs the question . . . Why has the duke deserted us?”

“Och!” the baron said. “’Tis nothing of the sort.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “His wife is increasing.”

“Pish,” Esmeralda sputtered. “He could have come without her.”

Hamish laughed and Elizabeth found herself staring at him once more. It was a lovely sound and transformed his face from intriguing to downright irresistible. “If you knew Lachlan, you would understand. He’s no’ leaving Lana. Ever.”