The Pursuit by Johanna Lindsey

perhaps relieved he hadn’t won the closer relationship he’d wanted.
    “I’d say we hae nothing more tae worry aboot,” Ian Four put in confidently. “He willna want her for wife, now he knows who she is.”
    This Ian was thirty-one now and, like many of them, had their father’s dark blond hair and green eyes. Malcolm, who was the same age, had the same eyes but bright red hair from his mother. Johnny was but a year older than these two and took completely after his mother, with coal black hair and light brown eyes flecked with gold.
    “I agree,” Malcolm said.
    “I disagree,” Johnny said.
    “And that surprises who?” Charles snorted again.
    “Quiet, ye.” Ian Three scowled, taking Johnny’s side, as he usually did. Those two actually shared the same mother as well as father. It didn’t make them any closer, really, than any of the others; it just added an additional protective instinct to this Ian, which he took seriously. “There’s two good reasons why he still might pursue her.”
    George entered the discussion now. Thirty-three,he was the only one of them with very light blond hair instead of dark, and his eyes were sea blue. He was also one of the few of them to have married, though he’d done so only recently to the mother of his three bairns.
    He said simply, “For spite.”
    That got a lot of nods, but Ian Three continued, “Aye, that would be one reason. The other is, he could already be in love wi’ her.”
    Malcolm started to laugh. Ian Six, walking past him to grab a scone, kicked him to silence, remarking, “He’s right. Ye werena there tae see how Linc looked at our Meli, but I was. He’s a mon sorely smitten.”
    “Was. But we all ken how quickly a finer emotion can turn foul,” Dougall said quietly.
    There was a moment of silence, filled with sympathy, anger, and even some regret. They all knew how close Dougall had felt to Lincoln Ross—until that day so long ago that Lincoln started that fight with him for no good reason.
    In all the years since, Dougall had never again trusted anyone outside his family. That event had caused much dissent among themselves as well. Some of them had felt sorry for Lincoln. Some didn’t want to fight him, even though he insisted.
    Some, like William, who’d been there the day it started, felt a measure of guilt for beating Lincoln so badly he’d had to be carried home. That would have been the end of it, however—should have been. A wrong quickly dealt with. But Lincoln just wouldn’t let it go….
    Ian One cleared his throat to break the silence. “Hae ye told her who he really is?” he asked Ian Six.
    “Nae, I didna hae the heart tae. She was looking forward tae seeing him again here in London and was verra unhappy when it looked like she wouldna, then verra happy when he did finally show up. She likes him. A lot.”
    “As long as it was just liking, she’ll get o’er it quick enough,” Johnny said.
    “Will she? I’m no’ sae sure,” Ian Six continued. “But I refuse tae be the bearer o’ bad tidings for her. If she’s tae be told, one o’ ye can hae that honor. I did m’part, kept her away from London longer than planned, tae give ye time tae warn him off. Had tae break the duchess’s poor coach wheel four times tae do it. She nearly fired her driver, blaming him. Fortunately, the last time the wheel fell off was near a friend o’ hers, and she decided tae visit there, then got talked into staying o’er for a couple o’ days, which is why we didna get back until yesterday.”
    Ian One nodded. “Then let’s decide the matter here and now. Either we tell her and hope she agrees that he’s no’ the mon for her or we dinna tell her and just make sure he stays away from her.”
    “Ye dinna think our warning tae him sufficed?” William asked.
    “When did he e’er back down from us?” Charles asked. He managed not to snort this time, though derision was still in his tone.
    “Telling her could hae the opposite effect