Read How to Seduce a Scot for Free Online

heat she had seen in Alexander’s eyes. Perhaps he had simply been polite, as his brother was, and she had been overwhelmed by the excitement of Almack’s, by the dancing and the company. It was her only Season, after all, a time for a girl to lose her head, if only for one night.
    â€œWhat will we do in the ballroom?” Catherine asked as her friend drew her into the hallway beyond, closing the parlor door behind her. “Practice our dance steps?” Catherine could use a bit of practice on the quadrille. She had danced but rarely before coming to Town.
    Mary Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed with ill-concealed joy. “No indeed. I’m going to teach you how to throw a knife.”
    Catherine was so shocked that she did not even laugh. “I beg your pardon?”
    â€œDon’t be missish, Catherine. Every woman needs to know how to throw a knife in her own defense. Come with me.”
    * * *
    Alex was careful to spend the afternoon out of the house. He was acting like a fool, but better to play the fool in private than display his foolishness in front of his family. Mary Elizabeth might notice nothing, but Robert knew him better, and was a good deal sharper when it came to relations between the sexes. Robert would know as soon as he saw them in the same room that his sister’s new friend had taken over too many of Alex’s waking thoughts. Robert might have even been able to discern that Alex had dreamed of nothing but her the night before, just by looking into his brother’s face.
    So Alex spent the afternoon at his tailor. When he grew bored of fittings, he thought of getting a drink, but had no interest in drinking alone. Nor did he have any interest in sitting among the English at his father’s club, swilling watered-down Scotch and missing home. So he walked the streets of London, almost hoping that some pickpocket might attack. Or that some ruffian might take him for a fop and bring out a knife, so that he might get some of his frustration out with a good old-fashioned rough-and-tumble.
    Though, if he were honest, fisticuffs were not the kind of rough-and-tumble he was looking for.
    He could go to Madame Claremont’s. She ran a clean house, and her girls would be willing and able to take him into their beds for the turn of a coin. They would even pretend to care what he thought about the latest happenings in the world, as all good courtesans did. In his place, Robert would have bought himself a woman and not thought twice about it. But when Alex tried to walk to Madame’s establishment, he found that his boots simply would not take him there. He found himself among the menagerie at the Tower of London instead, watching the squealing girls as they pretended fear at the old lion in his cage, their beaus manfully standing by before ushering them protectively away for ices at Gunter’s.
    Alex did not even feel amusement at watching the shenanigans of English courting. Instead, all he could think of was how much Catherine would like the Tower, as all the other young ladies seemed to, and how he should escort her there before the week was through.
    When he caught himself in that thought, he cursed and headed home.
    Of course, he had no home in London. His home was by the burn at Glenderrin, or on the open sea with his brother Ian. But knowing that even now Catherine Middlebrook sat taking tea with his sister, Alex turned like a homing pigeon toward the Duchess of Northumberland’s town home. The Duchess of Northumberland’s house, while grand, was far too fussy for his taste. If he took a house in London, he would not ruin its clean Georgian lines with velvets and tassels.
    He caught himself thinking that and cursed again in silence. It would be a cold day in hell before he took a house in London Town.
    Alex came into the front hall of Northumberland House, handing the butler his coat and hat. He carried no walking stick, though Robert thought he should obtain one.