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It pains me to point out to you that I sit in the Lords and have more wealth than these kilted heathen will see in ten lifetimes. I can be ill-bred when I please, where I please, in any manner I please.”
    “Which freedom you feel compelled to demonstrate on far too many occasions,” Matthew responded as pleasantly as he could.
    The humor died from Altsax’s rheumy eyes. “Mark me on this, young man: you are a good part of the reason I had to drag your sister into the wilds of Scotland in search of a title for her. Had you not left a trail of scandal clear back to the Crimea, she could have had her pick of the London bachelors. Instead, I’m put to the expense and ignominy of treating with a damned Scot for her hand, and a reluctant damned Scot at that. Cross me at your peril, Colonel . I can leave my wealth to your sisters and wish you the joy of a lowly barony.”
    A door opened a few yards down the corridor. Julia Redmond stood there, attired for dinner, a forced smile on her pretty features. “We’ll be ready in just a moment, gentlemen.”
    “Matthew will escort you to dinner,” Altsax said. “Though once the earl and I start parlaying family secrets between us, I doubt even a liberal-minded Scot would want the likes of my son at his table.”
    The baron stalked off as Julia slipped her fingers around Matthew’s arm. “He’s full of nonsense, you know. Genie has had three Seasons to pick out a swain, and she’s waiting for some lightning bolt from on high to smite her and her one and only simultaneously. As an approach to matrimony, it hasn’t much to recommend it.”
    Julia was a petite, pretty woman only two years Matthew’s junior. Her marriage to Altsax’s younger brother hadn’t been a love match, and widowhood had left Julia comfortably well-off.
    “You are kind, Julia. Altsax was speaking nothing more than truth. Association with me will not aid either of my sisters in their marital aspirations.”
    Julia kissed his cheek, bringing him a hint of roses and solace. “I’ve heard very little talk, Matthew, at least among the ladies of Polite Society. Whispers and hints at the edges of the ballrooms, but nobody seems to know exactly what went on. By this time next year, everybody will have forgotten. Let’s fetch your sisters and Augusta, and go to dinner.”
    Amid a gaggle of pretty, merry women, Matthew traveled the earl’s house to the formal parlor, where they’d enjoy whisky and conversation in anticipation of another fine meal. He’d enjoy feasting his eyes on Lady Mary Frances in her finery, too, and he’d tell himself that old army scandals would not matter here in the Highlands.
    Except they likely would. Perhaps not to Balfour, or to his brothers, but if Altsax was the one relaying the tale, then at least to Lady Mary Frances, an army scandal that had Matthew Daniels compromising the honor of a young lady would matter a great deal.
    ***
    “I was hoping I might find you out here.” Matthew Daniels sauntered up from the direction of the gardens, and the guilt roiling in Mary Fran’s gut threatened to choke her.
    “I’m in need of a little solitude, Mr. Daniels.” She pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, though it was a beautiful, soft night.
    “No, you’re not.” He picked up her hand and tucked it over his arm. “Something has you overset. Are you feeling guilty for having spent the morning with me? All we did was talk, my lady, and admire your family’s holdings.”
    Without her consent, he escorted her off the terrace and down into the gardens. And damn him and all his people unto the nineteenth generation, he was right .
    “I talked. You talked, though you said precious little.”
    “I said enough. I don’t usually burden anyone with remembrances of military life.” He sounded a touch put out with himself, or maybe perplexed, but Mary Fran had been fascinated to hear his recounting of a colonel’s responsibilities in the political cauldron that was