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apparently it wasn’t common knowledge in Scotland.
    A Highlander. Too bad. Kimberly had felt somewhat attracted to Lachlan MacGregor—well, that was putting it too mildly. She’d been very attracted. There was no point in denying it. But it was a moot point for two very good reasons. His affections were already taken, albeit by a married woman. And he was Scottish. And even if the first reason could be overcome, the second one was insurmountable. Her father would never approve of a Scotsman for her husband. He would flat out disown her first, and bedamned to the scandal that would cause.
    A Scotsman. That was really, really too bad.

5
    “Y ou poor, dear boy,” Margaret MacGregor said in sympathy after Lachlan had finished explaining to her, in full honesty, the circumstances that had led him here looking for a wife. “And Winnifred? Who could have guessed she’d do something like that. She seemed like such a nice gel.”
    Lachlan had to smile. Winnifred was close to fifty, not exactly a girl. But Margaret, being in her seventies, tended to call anyone sixty or below a girl or a boy. She was a dear, sweet lady, a little on the plump side, and always cheerful, at least whenever Lachlan had ever been in her company. But he had to agree with her on that point. No one could have guessed that Winnifred was capable of such a dastardly deed.
    As Margaret refilled Lachlan’s teacup—they were alone in the mammoth parlor at Sherring Cross—she admonished, “Why did you never come to me for monetary assistance? Your Great-uncle Angus left me quite well in the pocket, Godlove him, though he knew it was unnecessary. I have more money than I’ll ever find things to spend it on.”
    Lachlan was embarrassed enough by the subject, but it would be even worse if he tried to explain his reasons. Borrowing from blood kin was one thing and perfectly acceptable. But Margaret wasn’t that. She had married into his family instead, and her husband was no longer living, or Lachlan wouldn’t even be here. He’d have gone to his Uncle Angus for assistance long ago.
    So he said simply, “I mun do this on my own, Aunt Margaret,” and hoped she’d leave it go at that.
    She did, though she made a tsking sound to indicate she didn’t agree. “Very well. And you do seem to be on the right track now. A wife with plump pockets is just the thing to put an end to your difficulties. Why, it’s done all the time, don’t you know.”
    He nodded his agreement, even though he wished he didn’t have to take advantage of this method himself. “But there’s another thing I need tae be telling you, Aunt Margaret, that I didna ken would be a problem until I arrived here. I’ve met your nephew Ambrose under less than ideal circumstances. He was using a different name at the time, which is why I was unaware that I’d met him—until today.”
    “A different name?” She frowned. “Would that be when he was in Scotland last year?”
    “Aye, exactly then. I’m afraid I stopped him to—ah, relieve him of a few of his coins, but instead, I relieved him of his fiancé.”
    Margaret’s faded turquoise eyes widened briefly, then crinkled as she began to chuckle.“Good God, that was you ? My sister and I had heard a bit of that story from Megan—Devlin, of course, would never have repeated such a story, even though his rescue was quite heroic. But Duchy and I had a great good laugh over it, I must say.”
    He was relieved that she found it amusing. He didn’t, and he knew damn well Devlin wouldn’t either.
    “The thing is,” he pointed out, “Megan seems tae think he’ll no’ let me stay on here.”
    “Oh, bosh, of course he will,” she scoffed, only to amend seconds later, “At least, he will after he is apprised of your situation, and I’ll see to that. Don’t you worry, dear boy. We’ll have you married in no time a’tall.”
    Lachlan smiled his acceptance of that, though he couldn’t help blushing over the thought of Devlin