Page 7 of A Scoundrel’s Promise

“Good man.” He poured scotch from a decanter into two tumblers.

When he returned to Liam, Liam’s legs were steady, and the roar of cannon-fire had receded to a low roar in the darker recesses of his mind.

Dunn handed him a glass and nodded to the divan in front of the hearth. They sat on opposite sides and Liam sipped his whisky. The velvety burn of the liquor sliding down his throat soothed. The screams receded deeper into the darkness.

“There is nothing to match a good whisky,” Dunn said.

Liam nodded. “This is one of the best I have ever had.”

Dunn grinned. “Distilled not far from here.”

Liam finished the whisky. “Local lads, I take it?”

“Very local.” The viscount finished his drink, then rose and took Liam’s glass. He refilled the glasses, then returned and gave Liam his glass. “I see you brought your sketchpad.” He sat back on the divan.

Liam rose and retrieved the sketchpad. He sat, took another drink, then set the glass on the table in front of the divan and opened the pad.

A murmur of female voices emanated from the hallway. Could these be the two minxes who had accidentally run into him on the road? Dunn’s attention remained on the drawings. Liam picked up his glass, leaned against the divan’s cushions, and took another sip of whisky.

“You are a fine engineer,” the viscount said.

“I know enough to complete these preliminary drawings,” Liam said. “But I am no engineer. As I said when we first spoke, I suggest ye have the calculations reviewed by an engineer.”

“Nonsense,” Dunn said. “I see no flaws in your dimensions or calculations.”

Female laughter intruded upon their conversation. “Never mind,” one of the women said.

Liam recognized that voice.

The other woman replied something he couldn’t discern.

“Trust me,” said the minx who had jumped from her horse in front of Blackstone Abbey.

Liam bit back a laugh. Trust her? He suspected that’s how her companion had ended up standing on the road while he held the wench in his arms. He had to admit, that was the first time a woman had gotten his attention by jumping off a horse. She was right, she was made of tougher stuff than most women. Which probably meant she was also more dangerous. Her beauty alone could land him in trouble if he wasn’t careful. Liam wasn’t yet certain whether she or the other girl was Dunn’s daughter. Either way, her father would put a stop to an affair de coeur between his daughter and an impoverished second son of a viscount.

The women’s soft footsteps sounded closer. They laughed again, and Liam distinguished the deeper throated laugh of the fair-haired beauty from the other lass. He wondered if they were headed for the parlor, and how they would react upon seeing him. Then their laughter drew closer and they entered the room. Liam kept his face averted.

“Mackenzie,” Dunn said, his attention still focused on the drawings.

Ah, so the girl was Dunn’s daughter.

From the corner of his eye, Liam caught sight of the two women as they rounded the divan. They wore the same riding outfits they’d worn when he’d encountered them on the road. They’d nearly reached the front of the divan. Liam rose, and the two women halted. Mackenzie’s gaze locked with his and she drew a sharp breath.

The other woman cried “Oh!”

Lord Dunn looked up. “Mackenzie, is something wrong?”

She jerked her gaze from Liam’s face to her father’s. “We interrupted you. We should go.”

Dunn waved a hand and returned his attention to the drawings. “Think nothing of it. This is Lord Liam. Liam, my daughter Lady Mackenzie and her friend, Lady Cora.”

Liam bowed. “Ladies.”

Mackenzie stared.

“Was your ride pleasurable?” the viscount asked.

“Uh, yes, Papa. Very pleasurable.”