The Untamed Mackenzie by Jennifer Ashley Page A

Louisa’s set considered Gil’s opinion highly important. If Gil had taken Adele’s and Samuel’s part this evening, her social ruin would have been assured. The fact that Gil had admonished
them
would be all over Mayfair by the end of the set.
    “Thank you for taking pity on me,” Louisa said as they came together in the dance.
    “Nonsense, Louisa, I meant every word of it.”
    “Nevertheless, it was kind.”
    Gil gave her a warm smile. “You deserve much more than to be snubbed by Samuel and Jane, believe me.”
    The dance took them apart, but Gil’s smile remained, like an anchor in the swirling madness. Louisa knew he’d done her a great favor, simply from the goodness of his heart. She’d have to find a way to thank the man who’d just saved her from being an outcast at her own sister’s ball.
    ***
    How the devil Hart had talked him into stuffing himself into this suit and walking into Isabella Mackenzie’s supper ball, Fellows had no idea.
    His mother had been all for it, though. Fellows hadn’t mentioned the invitation to his mother, because he knew exactly what she’d say. But Isabella must have written to her, because she brought it up immediately when Fellows had visited her earlier this evening.
    The Mackenzie wives had taken to writing to Mrs. Fellows, who loved receiving the letters from the women she termed the “la-de-da ladies.” She read every single missive out to Fellows, and she wrote back to them. She’d been invited to the ball as well, and she laughed about it.
    “Imagine me in a ballroom with a bunch of toffs,” she’d said. “A right git I’d look. I was a tavern maid like me mum before me, and my sister was too, and that’s all there is to that.” She’d softened. “It’s a kindness, I know. They don’t really expect me to come. But
you
, my boy—you go and show them there ain’t nothing wrong with you. You’re the son of a duke, and you should have
been
the duke. Now you go and show Lord Hart you’re the better brother.”
    “Huh,” Fellows said, falling into the cadence of his youth. “A right git
I’ll
look in a fancy suit, Mum, and you know it.”
    “Don’t throw my words back at me, boy. You’re not so big I can’t still smack you about.”
    Catherine Fellows was five feet high, a bit rotund from the ale she liked to drink, and had wrinkles lining her face from the laughter she loved so much. Lloyd towered over her with the tallness of the Mackenzies, coupled with their strength.
    “You’re half my height, woman,” Fellows said, ruffling her hair fondly. “
And
you’ve got the tongue of a viper.”
    “Yeah? Then I have half a mind to buy a posh dress and go to this do, just to show you. I’ll drag you along by your ear, see if I don’t.”
    “Leave off, I’m going. And not because of you. If you think
you
can scold, you’ve not had the four Mackenzie ladies stand in front of you and ask you why you didn’t do what they asked. Frighten a man out of ten years’ growth, they can.”
    “I think they’re sweet girls,” Catherine said, abruptly ceasing her bantering. “Good manners. So kind to me. No, indeed, you can’t disappoint them.” Her look turned shrewd. “What about Lady Louisa? Does she frighten you out of ten years’ growth?”
    Fellows often discussed his cases with his mother, who for all her talk about being only a tavern maid had good perception about her fellow man. A lifetime of carrying about ale in a public house, she said, had honed her understanding. In Fellows’ opinion, she’d have made an excellent detective if she’d been born male. Her insights had helped him see a case clearly more than once.
    Those insights, unfortunately, made Catherine realize that Fellows viewed Louisa as more than a suspect, and more than simply his sister-in-law’s younger sister. He’d been careful to bury the fact that he thought about Louisa day and night, waking and sleeping. Every time he drew breath, in fact. But Fellows had