Page 97 of The Highlander Is All That

Esmeralda, looking haggard and cod-like this morning, whimpered. “One does not simply fall in love with a footman. I don’t think it’s physically possible.”

“Of course it is,” Anne said, spearing a sausage with her fork. They didn’t often take breakfast together in the parlor, but this morning was different. In oh so many ways.

For one thing, Mary was not here. Elizabeth snuffled again. “Oh, where could she be?”

“She’s probably on a coach for Gretna Green,” Victoria suggested.

Aunt Esmeralda clutched her pearls, but it was probably just an instinctive reaction, because she wasn’t wearing any. “I think I shall be ill.”

“I’m sure she’s perfectly safe,” Anne said soothingly. “She’s a sensible girl.”

Elizabeth and Victoria sent her an incredulous look. Victoria mouthed the word Mary?

Fortunately, Anne’s reassurance was enough to calm their aunt, though she still wheezed now and again, and when she reached for her teacup, it shook decidedly.

The parlor door opened and the baron strode in.

“There you are!” Esmeralda bellowed, though there was no call to yowl. She leaped to her feet. “What have you found?”

Bower grimaced. “Not much. It appears they’d been planning this a while.”

“They?” Esmeralda boggled.

“A while?” Elizabeth wailed.

“One of the grooms said he knew Jamison had been saving money for something important, and . . .”

“And what? Oh, just blurt it out. My heart can take it, I swear.”

Hah. And Esmeralda had thought Mary the melodramatic one.

“There is a horse missing.”

“A horse?” Their aunt glanced at him with a befuddled expression, as though she wasn’t quite certain she’d ever heard of one.

“Aye.” Bower set his hands on his hips and sighed. “As soon as Hamish gets here, we’ll head out after them.”

“Oh thank God. I cannot bear to think of that child in danger.”

Anne stood and moved toward Bower, leaning in to say, “Mary will expect you to follow her.”

“Aye. She will.”

“She’ll have some plan in place.”

He scrubbed his face. “Nae doubt.”

Anne drew in a deep breath and glanced at Aunt Esmeralda. “I know her better than anyone. I should go with them.”

At once, a chorus erupted.

“Unthinkable!”

“I know her better than you!”

“I’m the one trapped in a betrothal I don’t want. I should go.”

Their aunt glared them all down and repeated, “Unthinkable, Anne. You would be ruined.”