When a Scot Loves a Lady Read Free Page A

noose, though. Hm, Colin?” Yale moved directly to the sideboard. The young Welshman’s speech never slurred nor did his gait falter. But Leam had watched the lad drink an entire bottle of brandy since noon.
    A brace of candles illumined crystal decanters. Glass in hand, Yale settled into a chair as easily as a boy. But nothing ever looked as it seemed. Leam had learned that years ago.
    The dogs padded in, Bella settling on the rug by the fire, her pup greeting Gray, then following him to the hearth.
    â€œHow did matters proceed tonight at the hotel?” The viscount leaned against the mantel. “Mr. Grimm has gone off in the carriage and you are all here, so I must assume you found the princess and that she is now on her way home.”
    â€œTo the loving bosom of her anxiously awaiting husband.” Yale smiled slightly.
    â€œLeam flirted with everything in a skirt.” Constance paused at a window, drawing open a drapery to peer out into the darkness.
    â€œAlways does. Sets the ladies’ breasts aflutter in sympathy so that they utter every word they ever heard.” Yale sipped his brandy. “Or, always did, rather.”
    â€œHe is quite good at it.” In the glow of firelight, Gray’s face was like chiseled marble.
    Leam remained on the threshold, eyes half lidded as was his wont even now and here. The habit of years died hard, and he had not yet shaved away the vestiges of his false persona. His costume still clung.
    But not for long.
    Constance glanced over her shoulder. A sumptuous gold lock dangled along her neck in studied artifice so unlike her actual character. She played a part too. They all did.
    As members of the Falcon Club, for five years Leam, Wyn Yale, Colin Gray and their fourth, Jinan Seton, had used their skills to seek out and find missing persons whose retrieval merited a measure of secrecy. For the king. For England. But Leam’s cousin Constance had only entered the game two years ago, when he invited her.
    â€œIt is so odd every time,” she said, “seeing them go off like that with Mr. Grimm in the carriage, returning home.” She peered at the viscount. “Colin, how on earth do people find out about us? It’s not as though we advertise in the papers. Do they all know our secret director personally? But then, of course, if that were the case he wouldn’t be very secret, would he? And we might know him too.” Her lips curved sweetly.
    â€œPerhaps if you remain in the Club you might someday,” the viscount replied.
    â€œOh, you know I could not. Not when Leam, Wyn, and Jinan are all calling it quits.”
    Leam studied her. “You needn’t as well, Constance.”
    â€œI shall do as I wish, Leam.”
    â€œCome now, cousins.” Yale waved a hand, brandy swirling in his crystal goblet. “Don’t let’s quarrel. Haven’t yet had enough to drink.”
    â€œThey aren’t your cousins, Yale,” came the rejoinder from across the chamber.
    The Welshman tilted a black brow and allowed his opinion of the issue to be known to Lord Gray with the barest glitter of silvery eyes.
    â€œI should never have dragged her into this in the first place.” Leam crossed the chamber to his cousin, lowering his voice as he neared. “But at the time I believed you required diversion.” He lifted her hand and gently squeezed her gloved knuckles.
    â€œOh, don’t.” Constance withdrew her fingers. “You will make me weep with your poet’s eyes. I am quite as susceptible as all those other ladies, you know.”
    â€œCad,” Lord Gray muttered.
    Constance shot him a laughing look. “Weep with affection, Colin. Only slightly greater than the affection I hold for you.”
    Lord Gray tilted his head in recognition of the beauty’s gracious condescension.
    â€œYou see, Leam? Colin will have your neck now if you cause me to cry.” Her blue eyes