Page 38 of The Highlander Is All That

Before she was finished, Mary and Victoria hopped up and offered to take over and Elizabeth was certain she saw the relief in Catherine’s eyes.

But when Duncan took her arm and started to lead her out of the room—as he no doubt had been planning all along—Aunt Esmeralda stopped them. “Just where do you think you’re going?” she barked.

“For a walk, Lady Esmeralda.”

“I think not,” she warbled. “Not without a chaperone.”

“A chaperone? But Lady Esmeralda,” Duncan said. “We are betrothed.”

“What?” Hamish barked. And then he laughed. “But I thought you were in love with—”

Duncan’s face turned red. “Shut up,” he hissed at his friend. He glanced at Catherine, who had gone terribly pale, and then glowered at Hamish.

Hamish did not take the hint. “No, really. How many times did you talk about her—?”

“Shut. Up.” Practically a growl.

Bower leaned over and whispered something in Hamish’s ear, which made him wince and flick a remorseful glance at Duncan. “Sorry,” he said.

But it was too late. Catherine was devastated at the prospect of another woman. Who wouldn’t be? She put her hand to her head and grimaced through the tears. “Oh dear,” she said. “Another megrim.”

“Imagine that,” Aunt Esmeralda murmured.

Elizabeth leaped to her feet and ran to Catherine’s side. “Come, darling,” she said. “A cool cloth, I think.”

“Yes,” Catherine said through a sob, but she let Elizabeth and her sisters guide her up the stairs.

“Men,” Anne muttered as they turned to corner to their wing.

“Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed.

And Catherine? Catherine only wept.

Elizabeth could so relate. Because the man she imagined she loved did not love her back.

It was heartbreaking.

* * *

The rest of the day was a whirl, preparing for the Daltry’s masquerade. For some reason, Catherine’s bleak mood had lifted and Elizabeth was fairly certain it had something to do with Duncan loving her after all, which was nice for her, but was dampening for Elizabeth.

As for the men, they had all disappeared to wherever it was men went when they were avoiding preparations for a ball.

Not that she wanted to see him.

She didn’t.

She was perfectly fine without seeing him.

Besides, she wouldn’t know what to say if she did see him.

Then, around tea time, Elaine informed Elizabeth that she had a caller. Curious, she headed for the parlor and was surprised—and alarmed—to find Aunt Esmeralda with a broad grin on her face, pouring tea for Lord Twiggenberry.

“My lord.” She curtseyed.

Esmeralda waved a hand. “Close the door.”

Oh dear. That was not good. But Elizabeth nodded to her aunt and complied.