Page 56 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

Sitting right next to him. Horrors.

He swallowed deeply as he nodded to her. Nerves suddenly racked him. This was a woman he had to impress.

What a pity he had no idea how to do so.

He’d never wanted or tried to do so before.

“So nice to meet you Viscount Stirling,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

“Oh, please, call me Nick,” he said, before he thought better of it.

She tipped her head to the side. “Nick?”

“Everyone calls him Nick,” Sorcha said. “On account of all the Edwards.”

“Yes. Of course.” Susana nodded. “Well, welcome.”

Henley appeared then to collect their flowers, and bless her, Susana made a point of mentioning, “The daisies are for Isobel.” She smiled across at her daughter and added, “She does love daisies.”

“Does she?” Penny pouted. “I brought roses.”

Isobel frowned at Nick and then smiled at Penny, which was beyond irritating. “Roses are lovely, too,” she said sweetly but Nick knew she was speaking to him.

Blast.

At his side, Susana chuckled softly.

Nick sent her a frown before he could stop it.

She lifted a perfectly arched brow. “I see you’ve irritated her already,” she murmured. And then she smiled. “Good show.”

He gulped. “I beg your pardon?”

She leaned closer and murmured, “She’s a Dounreay. And a Lochlannach. Neither are easily won.”

“I . . . she . . . we . . .” His mind spun.

“And Isobel, I’m afraid, is as contrary as they come.”

“Contrary?”

“Indeed. Delightfully so.” She strafed him with an assessing glance. “Given the daisies, I take it you have an interest in my daughter?”

“I . . .” Oh. Shite. He cleared his throat. “Yes. I do.”

“Do you want my advice?”

“Please.”

Again with that knowing smile. “Be patient.”

Patient? What the hell kind of advice was that?

But their private discussion was interrupted, in part because private discussions were considered rude in such surrounds, and partially because Lady Esmeralda did not like being left out. “Well I say,” she said in a blustery tone. “We certainly have the cream of the crop in our sitting room, do we not, Your Grace?”

Both Nick’s mother and Lady Lana nodded. “Although,” the former said primly, “I certainly dinna expect to see my son here this morning.”

“When is the last time you attended morning calls?” Sorcha asked, with a nauseatingly innocent smile. She knew damn well he never had.