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Graeme flashed the startled guard behind their table a placating smile before turning back to his family. “Can the members of this blasted family go one day without making seditious remarks? It’ll be a miracle if we don’t end up in prison.”
“Angus will take the fall for us,” Royal said. “You know he loves to play the martyr.”
Ainsley waved down a passing waiter and ordered a tray of champagne. “Sadly, we’re stuck for the duration. His Majesty wishes to speak with me again before he leaves.”
“Oh, splendid,” Royal said. “More flirting with my wife.”
Nick gave Ainsley a stern look. “No flirting in front of Victoria. She’s in a delicate state.”
“Maybe Sabrina could flirt with him for a while,” Royal commented. “Give my poor wife a break.”
Graeme scowled. “Don’t be disgusting. She’s his goddaughter.”
Royal smirked. “And is that the only reason it bothers you, laddie?”
“Oh, sod off.”
Nick jabbed him in the shoulder. “Watch your language. I’m sure Lady Sabrina has no desire to flirt with the king, regardless.”
Ainsley put a finger to her chin. “I do believe she wishes to flirt with someone, though. I’m not sure who.”
Graeme repressed the impulse to tear his hair out.
Fortunately, the waiter arrived with their drinks, diverting the inane discussion.
“Vicky seems to be having a grand time with her father,” Royal said to Nick.
Both Vicky and Sabrina were seated with the king across the room, watching the dancers. Sabrina was chatting away with her usual, cheerful enthusiasm, while Vicky and the king seemed to be mostly listening and laughing. The lass seemed to have that effect on most people. She made them . . . happy.
“The king’s been very attentive to Victoria,” Nick replied. “Neither of us expected the invitation to have the ladies for a private tea at the palace.”
“That invitation almost gave Vicky a nervous fit,” Ainsley said. “Fortunately, Sabrina managed the whole episode remarkably well. She got Vicky and the king talking about life at Castle Kinglas, and things went swimmingly from there.”
“Lady Sabrina manages everything well,” Nick said. “She’ll make a splendid wife for a very lucky man.”
Ainsley winked at Graeme. “If that man would actually put in an appearance now and again.”
“Thatman has been run off his feet keeping Vicky’s father safe, in case you failed to notice,” Graeme tartly replied.
“Poor Sabrina,” Ainsley said with a dramatic sigh. “She’s barely seen you since thatveryinteresting carriage ride the other morning.”
Nick perked up. “What carriage ride?”
Graeme scowled at Royal. “Can’t you keep your wife under control? She’s being immensely irritating.”
“I won’t even try.” Still, Royal took pity on him by switching topics. “I’m glad for Vicky’s sake that the king’s visit is going well. But I’ll also be glad when this madness concludes. I feel like we’re trapped in an unending Highland pageant.”
“And the bloody music,” Graeme said. “If I have to listen to one more reel I’m going to shoot myself.”
Ainsley laughed. “You do all look splendid tonight, though. Except for Angus. Vicky and I did our best with him, but to no avail.”
Nick and Royal were wearing the dress kit of the Black Watch, their former regiment, and Graeme and Grant had donned Kendrick plaid. Their grandfather, unfortunately, had again chosen to wear the traditional belted plaid, and he’d also dug up a moth-eaten matching bonnet not seen in decades. Since almost every other man at the ball had on the short kilt, along with appropriate evening kit, the old fellow stood out like a bull at a garden party.
“At least he’s not lugging around the ceremonial broadsword,” Royal said. “He might have used it on some poor soul who offended him.”
“Like the king?” Ainsley said with a grin.
“God, don’t even joke about it,” Graeme absently replied.
