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rather deliver to his head instead of the sort that would sweeten his tea. On the off chance she’d had time to add a bit of hemlock to the brown clumps of sugar, he decided to err on the side of caution and asked for his tea without embellishment.
    Hester MacGibbon quaffed her rum with a satisfied slurp. Then once she upended her glass, she leaned forward and resumed her lecture on the finer points of Scottish law.
    “So the main consideration is this, my lord. It matters no’ a morsel what ye may call yerself whilst ye’re on English soil,” Hester MacGibbon said. “Ye accepted the mantle of Bonniebroch with all the benefits and encumbrances thereto. Here in Scotland ye be Lord Bonniebroch and as such, ye’re betrothed to me great-niece. Many is the man that would count himself fortunate to ally with a sept of the Campbell clan, though I’ll admit the fact that ye’re a MacGregor means we’ll have to hold our noses to see the pair of ye wed. Still, a contract’s a contract and there’s an end to it. We’ll hold up our end of the matter.”
    “Might we continue this discussion privately, Mrs. MacGibbon?” Alexander cast a glance in Lucinda MacOwen’s direction. He didn’t want to wound her again if he could help it.
    “Why? As this touches on Lucinda’s future, she has every right to be present.”
    The girl smiled at him again, a different sort of smile this time. She turned her head in a feline tilt, for all the world like a tabby eyeing a mouse hole. “As I’ve need to learn my intended’s mind about things, I see no reason to betake myself elsewhere.”
    “Very well. Since my being a MacGregor is so distasteful to you, surely we can come to a mutually satisfactory agreement to void the contract,” Alexander said, wincing inwardly at having to say such things before his nominal bride. He wasn’t used to being such a lout.
    “Certainly, ye may void the contract an’ ye wish to,” Hester MacGibbon said with every appearance of affability. “There’s a provision that stipulates how the contract may be broken. The party wishing to do so merely forfeits all his holdings to the other party.”
    “That might be agreeable,” Alexander said. He’d wondered how to divest himself of the Scottish estate once he no longer needed it. The least he could do for the jilted girl was gift her with Bonniebroch.
    “Are ye no’ hearin’ me, lad? All yer holdings, both here, and in England and wherever else ye may have property or interest in moneymaking ventures of any kind.”
    “Oh,” Alex said slowly. As a second son, he wasn’t heir to the marquisate, but his father had settled several unentailed properties on him and through his own industry, he owned half the shares in a fleet of three merchant ships. Even though his needs were small while he remained in the service of his country, he couldn’t in good conscience walk away from the private wealth he’d amassed.
    “I can see ye’ve had a bit of a ponder on that point and come round to my way of thinking,” Hester said, approvingly. “It’s a wise man as knows when to quit a losing position. There may be hope for ye yet.”
    Lucinda studied the tea set as if she’d never seen the like before. Her lips were clamped in a hard line, her cheeks florid. The girl was quietly livid and Alexander couldn’t blame her.
    “Miss MacOwen,” he said. “We’ve started out on the wrong boot. Allow me to make amends. Of course, you and your family will be welcome to stay at Bonniebroch after the king’s envoy returns to London. That way, you and I can get acquainted with a nice long engagement.”
    Twenty years or so should do the trick.
    “Oh, aye, take all the time ye like.” Hester gave a cackling laugh. “The wedding’s no’ set to take place till Christmas Day. Check the contract. Ye’ll find it spelled out nicely. But dinna worrit. A man and a maid can ken quite a bit about each other in a short time. I advise ye to get started whilst I see