That guest sat across from Neville that evening in the formal dining room. They were sharing an aperitif

while waiting for Duncan to join them for dinner. With the dilemma of the Reid marriage out of the way, the somewhat temporary truce they had been under in their mutual opposition to it was pretty much at an end.

Congratulations over with and thanks given that Mavis Newbolt turned out to be a decent lass after all, Neville and Archibald were back where they had started, in disagreement over how to get Duncan married.

"He'll have to go to London," Neville said, seeing no other solution himself. Archie groaned. "Gawd, I've heard the devil hisself lives in yer London." "What utter tripe. Our London is no different than your Edinburgh, I'm sure." Archie snorted. "Ye ain't sure, since ye've ne'er been there." "And you've been to London?" Neville countered. "When was that?"

Archie bristled, being put on the spot like that, and maintained, "That's neither here nor there. A big city, nae matter the country 'tis in, isna the answer. What's wrong wi' anither gathering here, eh?"

"This house will not undergo another invasion," Neville replied adamantly, which was the same as saying that he simply wouldn't tolerate another mass of strangers peeking into his every nook and cranny. "The social Season is still in full swing in London. Invitations can be easily obtained to all of the upcoming affairs of note, and more will pour in once Duncan makes an appearance there."

"There'll be far tae many lassies in a city that big," Archibald pointed out. "How will the lad e'er be able tae make a choice—"

"Archibald, haven't we been over this ground once before? As it happens, and it can't be disputed, London is the place that all the marriageable young women flock to each Season. It's a well-known marriage mart. If Englishmen have managed just fine finding their wives there for years, myself included, why then wouldn't Duncan be able to? And no one said you have to accompany him."

"Then ye mean tae?"

Neville shuddered at the very thought. "No, actually, I was thinking of asking young Locke, who seems to have become quite chummy with Duncan, to take him around and introduce him to all the right people."

Hearing the end of that as he entered the room, Duncan said, "If there's any asking tae be doing o' friends o' mine, I'll be doing it. The both o' you are really going tae have tae stop treating me like a bairn in swaddling that canna do a bluidy thing for himself. And no' that I'm conceding one hundred percent that Rafe is a friend, but what is it I'm tae ask him tae do for me?"

"Get you immersed in the London Season."

Duncan, about to take the chair between the two old men, paused with an appalled look. "Whatever would I want tae do that for? Archie, you told me yourself that place is a hellhole nae sane man would want tae visit."

Archie coughed uncomfortably. "Well, whether it is or no', Neville is sure that's the place tae be finding yer wife now. And I'll hae tae agree wi' him," Archie said, gaining a raised brow from Neville since he had just got done disagreeing with him, which he ignored for the moment. "We've had an unpleasant detour, but 'tis time tae be getting back tae the matter at hand, which is finding ye a wife."

"Then rest easy," Duncan replied. "I've already made my choice if she'll have me."

"Who?" Archie asked in surprise.

Neville, figuring out the "who" part and not all that surprised, but not all that pleased either, dropped a hand over his eyes and mumbled the least of his objections. "She's not titled. You can do better."

"Who?" Archie repeated, glaring at Neville now since he seemed to know but hadn't warned him.

Neville didn't notice the hot look, with his hand still covering his eyes. But Duncan answered for him. "Sabrina Lambert, o' course."

Archie did some brow raising now at his grandson, both of his bushy arches shooting straight up in surprise. "There's nae o' course aboot it, lad," Archie admonished. "She's a friend. Ye dinna marry yer friends, and ye dinna hae tae marry this one tae keep her friendship."

"Much as I'd like to see you married soon," Neville said, adding his own misgivings. "I don't want you marrying for the wrong reasons either."

Duncan didn't take offense, he even smiled as he replied, "Either o' you consider I might have more feelings for her than friendship?"

"Nonsense," Archie abruptly snorted. "Ye assured us otherwise, if ye'll recall. And she's no' e'en pretty. There is nothing wrong wi' valuing a friend, but ye dinna need tae take it tae extremes."

"Archie, she has more beauty within than anyone I've ever met. Besides, you've been blinded by Ophelia, and now find every other female lacking in comparison. I wasna impressed wi' Ophelia, so I find Sabrina more than lovely. I find her perfect, actually."

"She does have her good qualities," Neville put in. "But she also has a scandal on her back that she will never be rid of."

"A silly scandal that's bluidy well groundless," Duncan pointed out, and then challenged, "You're afraid o' a wee scandal, Neville?"

"Not at all. I even happen to agree it's silly. It's still not something we want in the family if it can be avoided. But if you tell me you're in love with the chit, then by all means, marry her."

"Bedamned, Neville," Archie blustered at that. "Can ye no' see the lad is deluding hisself ? Dinna be encouraging this nonsense."

Duncan was amazed, once again, that Neville was taking his side, albeit with protest, but his support was nonetheless there. Archie, on the other hand, didn't surprise him at all in the stand he was taking.

"Archie, let me worry aboot m'feelings," Duncan said as he stood back up. "You trusted me tae run your many businesses. Trust me tae know what I want and why I want it. And I think I'll be paying the

lass a visit right now."

Archibald dropped his head on the table the moment Duncan left the room, even banged it a few times in his frustration. Neville, unimpressed with the theatrics, waved away the servants who chose that inopportune moment to come in with their dinner. Drink was more in order at the moment, at least for his Highland guest.

"You're taking this too hard," Neville suggested as soon as they were alone again. Archie looked up to scowl at him. "Am I? Can ye nae see what a mistake this is?" "Not if he loves the girl."

"Bah, that's the bluidy trouble. He does love her. I dinna doubt that one bit. But it's nae the love a man gives tae a wife, ye ken?"

"Love is love—" Neville began.

"Nae, there's many a difference," Archie interrupted, stressing, "She's a dear friend o' his, and that's what he loves her as. But because this friend happens tae be a lass, he's got it mixed up in his mind that what he feels for her is the same as the mating kind o' love, when it isna. Och, ye see what happens when men make friends o' lasses?"

"And what if you're wrong?"

"I'm nae wrong. I know the lad. He's been lacking really close friends in his life, and now he's found one, he's loath tae risk losing her. He's thinking marriage will keep her always by his side, and sae it will, but he'll nae be happy wi' it in the end. And he'll be finding that oout as soon as he tries tae bed her, and finds he'd rather be playing a bluidy game o' whist wi' her instead."

Neville couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. "I swear, Archibald, the way you think sometimes boggles the mind. Hasn't it occurred to you yet that what might have begun as friendship could have progressed to something much deeper? Not all love occurs immediately, you know. Occasionally it simply grows on you."

Archie snorted. "Love, aye, but lust is either there or it isna, and he doesna lust after this lass. Now, what hope is there for a marriage that doesna start wi' good, healthy lust, eh? E'en the kind o' love that grows on ye at least begins wi' lust. Wi'oout it, there's nothing tae work wi', nothing tae get any feelings at all started, you ken?"

Neville rolled his eyes. "I think when Ophelia Reid branded Duncan a barbarian, she would have been right on the mark if she'd named you instead. Feelings can change, Archibald. Friends can become lovers. Enemies can become friends and vice versa. If everything was writ in black and white as you seem to see it, this would be a very dull world indeed."

Chapter Fifty-two

He might not have been allowed to see her. Duncan realized that after he arrived at Cottage by the Bow and Sabrina's aunt Alice, who let him in, gave him a disapproving look because of the late hour. But tsking and mumbling that he wasn't to stay long and should have come in the morning, she still took him through the dining room to a pair of French doors that led to a small garden and pointed him in that direction.

He found Sabrina there, bundled in her winter coat, sitting on a stone bench in a pool of moonlight. That was the only light available, since that side of the house was dark, but it was ample once his eyes adjusted to it. The garden was nearly barren of greenery at that time of year, but was probably quite pretty in summer.

He didn't wonder why she chose to sit there in the midst of winter. He knew by now that she simply preferred to be outdoors, no matter the time of year, and apparently no matter the time of day.

"Are you no' cold, lass?" he asked as soon as he reached her.

She had glanced his way when he stepped outside, watched him as he walked toward her, all without a change in her expression. No curiosity about why he was there, no surprise, almost as if she'd been expecting him, despite the lateness of the hour.