Page 123 of The Highlander Is All That

Esmeralda leaned forward and warbled, “Do tell.”

The duchess folded her hands together primly. “You recall Twiggenberry attempted to pressure Elizabeth by insinuating that he was connected to the prince?”

Hamish boggled. “He did what?” But everyone ignored him.

Esmeralda sniffed. “I most certainly do.”

The duchess nodded. “And we agreed to look into the matter?”

“Yes. And thank you.”

“We have news,” the duke repeated.

“Interesting news,” the duchess added with a smile.

Apparently McCloud was too impatient to string this out. “Twiggenberry is a complete fraud.”

“Wait.” Esmeralda paled. “What are you saying?”

The duke cleared his throat, but his wife answered for him. “He’s not a wealthy lord at all. In fact—”

“He’s quite broke,” McCloud said with a grin.

“He’s marrying Elizabeth for her money?” Hamish had to ask, but he did so through his teeth. He so sincerely wanted to break something.

Preferably, Twiggenberry’s face.

In lieu of that, a vase. Preferably an expensive one.

The only reason he did not was because Esmeralda would flay him alive if he did.

“That rat,” Victoria bleated. “Well, she’s definitely not marrying him now.”

“Indeed not.” The duchess’s smile was broad.

Hamish felt the extreme need to interrupt this orgy of delight with the bald facts. “This is all good and well, but the fact is, we have no idea where Elizabeth is. We must find her.”

She could be dead in the gutter for all he knew.

If she was, he wouldn’t want to live—

The duchess cleared her throat. “About that . . .”

All eyes snapped to her.

“I may have an idea where she’s gone.”

The duke whipped around and gaped at his wife.

She shrugged. “I couldna let her marry that beast.”

“My God, I love you, you Scottish vixen,” His Grace said, and then he kissed his wife.

And kissed her.

And kissed her.

“Ahem,” Hamish said. And again, until they surfaced. He hated to interfere with true love and all, but he really needed to know. “Where is she?”