The Highlander Who Loved Me (MacCallan Clan, #2) by Wilde Tanya

Author:Wilde, Tanya
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tanya Wilde
Published: 2019-07-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Six hours later, Drew suspected he’d be the one to cause a calamity. His death. Death by utter boredom. Would anyone outside of this establishment blame him? He thought not. Five hours of watching the three women giggle and cheat at every card game known to man, changing existing rules and inventing their own as they played, drinking ale and eating sour bread and cheese. Five hours of watching Count Coxcomb indulge their antics with an equally indulgent smile. Five hours of pretending not to notice Mr. Shelby fondling his wife across the room on the sofa.

The only reason—and Drew considered reason a very loose term in this instance—he hadn’t exploded into tears of boredom was the fact that five hours had gone by without chaos raining down on them. That offered at least minuscule comfort. But now, evening had fallen, and candles had been lit all around the room. In light of what had happened the previous evening, Drew was not about to take any chances that a real fire would break out tonight.

And he was resolved to keep an eye on Count Coxcomb—the very picture of romantic indulgence.

“Are you certain you do not wish to play, Mr. Murray?” Miss Walker asked for the twenty-second time.

“Aye,” Drew answered for the twenty-second time. He knew because he had counted. It marked the passage of time, and he was on calamity duty.

“Do not mind him,” Isla volunteered, expertly shuffling the deck of cards to deal the next hand of Whist. “Fun is not part of Mr. Murray’s nature.”

“Someone needs to keep a level head around this place.”

“Of course, Mr. Murray is guarding us against any villain who dares appear, like in the grand love stories. Are you not, Mr. Murray?”

Drew turned his stunned gaze to Miss Walker. What was this new tone in her voice? She’d practically purred his name.

He scowled.

It must be the weather that sparked this madness. Either stormy spells inspired romantic notions, or the boredom of being cooped up fueled absurd desires to occupy minds.

Drew did not want to occupy the mind of Miss Walker.

The mere notion made him shiver.

“Are all the devils not here?” Isla teased, and her soft voice rippled through his veins.

“Oui,” the count said, his chuckle interweaving with Isla’s laughter. “One never knows what crooked bounders lurk in the shadows, right, Mr. Murray?”

Drew fought the urge to march over to the Frenchman and grind his tongue to sand beneath his boot. The only crooked bounder lurking in the shadows is you, Count. Maybe not. But Drew liked to believe the count was not all charm, not just the indulgent gentleman he presented to the world.

“Aye,” he muttered when all eyes turned to him in question. “They usually present themselves in sheep’s wool and hide among the lambs.”

A shadow passed over the count’s eyes but was swiftly replaced by a smooth quirk of his lip. Careful, Count Coxcomb. You might sport a bloody nose if you continue getting on my nerves. The man might be titled, but he was not in France now.

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