Read Online Highlander's Hope by Collette Cameron - Free Book Online Page B

did Mrs. Pettigrove’s snooping know no bounds? Mortified to be caught in such a flagrant lie, Yvette looked at him. Now what were they to do?
    “To be sure, I did indeed.” Unruffled, Lord Sethwick patted his mouth with his napkin before laying it beside his plate. He reached inside his coat, then removed the document for the intrusive matron’s perusal.
    He possesses a license? How is that possible?
    Unfolding the formal looking papers, Mrs. Pettigrove made a pretense of reading them. Yvette hid a smile behind her napkin. She knew Mrs. Pettigrove couldn’t read a word, let alone see the numerous wiry, gray hairs on her chin, without her spectacles. The viscount might have handed her an advertisement to relieve digestive disorders, or baldness, or eliminate unsightly facial hair , and the busybody wouldn’t have been able to distinguish the difference.
    “The date?” probed Mrs. Pettigrove.
    Taking another bite of sausage, Lord Sethwick chewed it before answering. “The license was issued May first, well in advance of Miss Stapleton’s arrival.”
    Unable to tear her gaze away, Yvette stared at the license in rapt silence. How had he acquired one so quickly?
    Giving a stiff nod, Mrs. Pettigrove returned the document to him. “It appears to be in order.”
    Lord Sethwick returned it to his inside pocket.
    Yvette wasn’t surprised the oversized matron seemed less than enthusiastic with the discovery.
    Her mouth full of scone, Mrs. Pettigrove asked, “When did you say the marriage will take place?”
    Lawks, her persistence is galling. Yvette flashed a sidelong glance to the viscount. He’s not perturbed in the least. She shifted her gaze to the license, lest he catch her studying him. How would he answer Mrs. Pettigrove’s uncouth question?
    A sharp rap echoed at the door. Yvette breathed a sigh. Thank Goodness. Lord Sethwick wouldn’t have to answer the question after all. She raised her head and forced her gaze from the document in his hand.
    He stared at her intently, then called, “Enter.”
    “Lord Sethwick, please excuse the interruption,” a deep, vaguely familiar voice greeted. “‘Tis urgent I speak with you.”
    Half-turning to look at the newcomer, Yvette could not contain her frightened gasp. She shot halfway out of her chair before Lord Sethwick’s hand snaked across the table and grasped hers, restraining her.
    “Ewan!” In her panic, she addressed him by his given name.
    “Miss Stapleton, Mrs. Pettigrove, may I introduce my associate, Trenton Carmichael?” said Ewan. “You know him as Nigel Collingsworth.”
    Yvette sat down so hard her bottom smacked the chair with a stinging thud. Despite the day’s promise to be quite warm, she shivered, chilled to the bone. Searching the viscount’s face she repeated, stunned, “Your associate? I don’t understand. He was chasing me yesterday.”
    Mrs. Pettigrove’s gooseberry eyes were round as the moon watching the exchange. “Mr. Collings, er, Carmichael was chasing you, Miss Stapleton?”
    No one responded to her probing.
    Holding Yvette’s hand, Lord Sethwick explained, “He wasn’t chasing you. Trent was trying to protect you by catching the man who was chasing you.”
    “A different man was also chasing you? Whatever for?” Mrs. Pettigrove sounded envious.
    Everyone ignored her.
    Mr. Carmichael addressed Yvette. “I regret frightening you yesterday. It wasn’t my intent.”
    Another knock sounded.
    “Come in.” Lord Sethwick was less gracious this time.
    Faith, what handsome men .
    Yvette managed not to gawk at the two men who entered the chamber. At least she thought she did. They must be friends of Lord Sethwick’s. Nobility no doubt.
    “Sethwick, you rogue, keeping the arrival of your lovely bride-to-be a secret,” teased a tall gentleman dressed in black from toe to top.
    Ewan suppressed an oath. What were Yancy and Harcourt doing here? He leveled a scowl at Yancy. He’d bet his favorite hound this was the secretary’s