Page 57 of Brigand

Transom admitted them into the grand foyer with all the pompa Scottish lowlife could command. Though to be fair, Ewan sensed a discomfort inhis welcome. As though Transom was torn between his friendship with Ewan andhis loyalty to the duke.

Transom spared a smile for Sophia. But then who wouldn’tsmile at the sight of those ice-blue eyes and bobbing amber ringlets? Sophiahad the countenance of an angel and a nature to match. Her face was aheart-shaped alabaster work of beauty, the very image of her mother, thoughwith a charming dent in her chin their mother had not possessed, as well as araft of dimples that exploded in her cheek when she smiled. Her figure, whichhad blossomed in the past two years, was perfect for her height and set offexquisitely in the gold traveling dress he’d bought her.

There would be many more fittings to come.

If Moncrieff kept his word.

If he did not, this would be a short visit to town indeed.

“Please wait in the sitting room.” Transom showed them intoan elegantly turned out chamber decked in blue and festooned with miniaturefurniture Ewan was certain he would crush if he so much as perched on an arm.“I shall notify His Grace you are here. And have tea sent in.”

Sophia’s face lit up. “Tea would be lovely. Thank you. Itwas such a long, dusty drive.”

Transom gaped. Ewan longed to shut his mouth with a finger.Or fill it with his fist. Sophia was his sister, for mercy sake. He didn’tappreciate anyone gawking at her. Not with that expression.

But she was rather stunning when she smiled like that.

Instead of pummeling the butler—he was trying to be refined,after all—Ewan cleared his throat. “The tea?”

“Ah yes.” Transom sent a dazzling smile to Sophia, whobeamed back. “Please make yourself at home.”

After the door closed behind the butler, Sophia whirledaround, throwing out her arms and tipping up her face. It was transfixed withjoy. “Oh, Ewan, I am so happy to be here,” she gushed. “Thank you so much forarranging it.”

“You’re welcome.” This in a gruff grumble. Because, truly,he didn’t know if he had arranged this. Not yet. She threw herself into adelicate Hepplewhite. He cringed and eased onto the divan, hoping to God it didnot collapse under his weight. Destroying Moncrieff’s drawing room—on top ofeverything else—would not go over well.

A maid scratched on the door and presented a tea tray, andSophia, as a refined society girl should, poured him a cup. Ewan didn’t drinkit. His throat was far too tight to force anything down. Also, it was tea. Hedeplored the stuff. The cakes, however, he managed. They were lemon and quitedelicious and apart from the dusting of powdery sugar, which drifted to hisnewly purchased fancy breeches and would not be wiped away, he quite enjoyedthem.

When the door opened, he leapt to his feet.

And that was when he saw her. Standing there, framed in thedoorway in a lavender gown that made her eyes seem impossibly violet. Her facewas more fragile than he remembered. Her lips riper…

And that was when he knew. Seeing her—just seeing her—wouldnever be enough.

Not ever again.

His heart set up a rapid thrum, beating so hard it made histhroat ache. His palms went damp. His scalp prickled. He stared at her and shestared at him for an aching span of time. An eternity, but somehow not nearlylong enough.

When she turned away and pinned a smile on her face forSophia, it sent an agonizing barb through his chest.

There were others with her. It took some effort to noticewho they were. Ah. Kaitlin—who sent him a surreptitious behave yourselfglower—and Ned. Whose glower wasn’t surreptitious in the least.

But thanks to the merciful Lord in heaven above, none oftheir rancor was turned to Sophia. Indeed, her welcome was extraordinarilywarm.

“Sophia, darling!” Kaitlin cooed. “How long has it been?”

Sophia bounded out of her chair and cried out—in a veryunladylike fashion—and threw herself into Kaitlin’s arms. Then hugged Violet aswell.

Hell. He hadn’t realized they knew each other too.

As the girls chattered nonsense about their journey and thethings Sophia had seen along the way, Ewan studied Violet.

She had lost weight, he noticed, a frown etching his brow.And she appeared a little wan. He didn’t care for that. He would have to askMoncrieff if he was making sure she ate properly because—

“Ewan?”

He blinked. Attempted to turn his focus back to theconversation. The new arrivals had taken their seats and Kaitlin was passing’round cups of tea. Ned, he noticed, was perched on the edge of the chair nextto Sophia’s, gazing at her with a besotted expression. Ewan’s fingers curled.Ned Wyeth was not the sort of man he had in mind for his sister. She deservedan earl at the very least.

“Ewan!”