Free Bridegroom Wore Plaid by Grace Burrowes

fortune that Matthew had for once allowed himself a frivolous outing. What was to be done would be done for Matthew, but the man was too stiff-rumped to ever appreciate his father’s efforts.
    A slow smile spread across the baron’s face. The plan was perfect, a work of art. This way, all suspicion would fall on the strutting Scottish earl, making him even more willing to snap up a baron’s daughter.
    When word of the misfortune befalling one of the earl’s guests reached Polite Society, Balfour would never again be able to charge exorbitant sums for simple hospitality.
    ***
    “Tell me of your home, Miss Genie. How does it compare with Balfour?”
    The young lady at Ian’s side seemed incapable of uttering a sentence without a considering silence before she opened her mouth. Maybe she was thoughtful by nature, maybe she was intimidated, and maybe this was some hen-witted attempt at coyness falling far short of its mark.
    “Which home would that be, my lord? We have the London townhouse, a house in the New Town in Edinburgh, the family seat in Kent, a very nice little set of estates in Oxfordshire, as well as a hunting box in Cumbria, and dower properties for me and Hester in Surrey and Sussex respectively.”
    Of course they did. “Which is your favorite?”
    Another pause, while Ian guided her around a tree root protruding into the path.
    “I like them all. The town house is for the Season, so we have great good fun there. My dower property is quite lovely, but I expect you know that.”
    “I know no such thing, Miss Genie. You could describe it to me.”
    “I haven’t seen it since I was seventeen…”
    She had the knack of implying questions where they made no sense, like at the end of her last pronouncement. Some query hung in the air:
    Shall I describe it to you? Or maybe, Might we finish conversing now, my lord? Walking and talking at the same time taxes my brain so sorely.
    Except she wasn’t stupid. Ian would have bet his best bull doddy the lady wasn’t stupid. She was just unforthcoming in his company. At breakfast she’d been laughing and flirting with Gil and Con as shamelessly as her aunt.
    “Miss Genie, perhaps there’s something you’d like to ask me? My attempts at conversation aren’t taking us very far in the direction of getting acquainted.”
    “Why would you wish to acquaint yourself with me, my lord?”
    No hesitation there. “Because you are my guest, because you are a lovely young lady, because my great-aunt suggested we might suit, because we’re wandering about here in the woods with no one else to converse with, largely by the design of my enterprising younger siblings.”
    A slight smile creased her lips. Very slight, but genuine.
    She glanced meaningfully over her shoulder at Hester, striding along, opera glasses plastered to her nose supposedly the better to identify Highland birds. “Younger siblings can be the devil, can’t they?”
    “A mixed blessing, but you and Hester seem close.”
    This was firmer ground, something they honestly had in common, and Ian mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. Beside him, he felt the lady relax just a little. Her stride opened up; her grip on his arm became more functional and less decorative.
    “Hester is the very best sister, but she is a little sister, if you take my meaning. She embarrasses me with her pithy observations—always in company, of course—without even intending to, but she’s also my staunchest ally.”
    “I think your cousin, your brother, and your aunt are all allies too. In his own way, even your papa takes your welfare seriously.”
    “Oh, he’d better. Mama will sulk for ages if this excursion at Balfour doesn’t go well.”
    The smile was gone, and Ian wondered if Miss Genie recalled with whom she walked. He steered her past another upthrust root.
    “What can I do to ensure your visit goes well, Miss Genie? I am your host, after all. Your pleasure is my first concern.”
    That might have