Free A Borrowed Scot by Karen Ranney Page A

lingering in the air.
    Someone spoke at his elbow, causing him to flinch. He covered the movement as smoothly as he could with a practiced smile. He didn’t like people approaching him without warning. He didn’t like standing close to another human being. Arm’s length was near enough, or even farther. Rifle distance was probably the best.
    One cousin or another fired a volley of questions at him. He attempted to answer each in as cursory a fashion as possible.
    The British had a strange way of talking. The more elevated a man was in their society, the more precise his speech. In the last two months, he’d been told, on more than one occasion, that he spoke like an American, a comment made with such derision there was no doubt it was meant as an insult.
    “How are you finding London?” one of the cousins asked.
    “I’ve learned a great deal since I’ve been here.” There, that didn’t give away his antipathy to London, did it?
    “Tell me all about America,” asked another one of Veronica’s cousins. Amanda? Anne? He hadn’t paid enough attention to their introductions.
    “I’d rather hear about England,” he said, forcing a smile to his lips. For the next fifteen minutes, she proceeded to regale him with tales of shops, balls, and her many admirers.
    Montgomery had never been so bored.
    When Veronica left to change her dress, a task evidently requiring all three of her female cousins, he stood with his back to the wall, away from the other members of Veronica’s family.
    He couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to get away. He couldn’t go outside because it was raining, and it would look too much like escape if the bridegroom stood out in the rain and refused to come back inside.
    Montgomery moved to the side of the room, entering the corridor and slipping into the Earl of Conley’s library. Thankfully, the room was vacant. He walked to the window, stood staring out at the rainy day, wishing he were somewhere, anywhere but here.
    You’re a married man now, brother. James’s voice. Responsible and mature.
    It’s the right thing to do, Montgomery. How odd that, of the three, he could always hear Caroline’s voice more clearly. Perhaps guilt had something to do with it.
    “Caroline, get out of my mind.”
    “Who’s Caroline?”
    He turned to find Veronica standing there. She’d changed into an ugly dark blue dress similar to the one she’d worn to the Society of the Mercaii. It flattered her even less than her bridal gown.
    “When can we leave?” he asked.
    She looked surprised at the question or perhaps simply the abruptness of it.
    “Anytime you wish,” she said.
    “Now,” he said, walking to the doorway, brushing past her in his haste to leave, only to come face-to-face with the Countess of Conley.
    “Have we overwhelmed you with our numbers, Montgomery?” she asked. “Here you are, hiding away, when everyone wants to know about you.”
    The woman’s fawning affection was cloying. The whole family was cloying. Within five minutes of his arrival, Montgomery had known he wouldn’t be able to bear their company more than an hour or two.
    In two minutes, it would be three hours since he’d arrived.
    The countess had insisted on calling her husband, “the earl,” an affectation he found almost as annoying as the English habit of treating people with titles as if they were religious icons.
    “We have to leave,” he said, trying to recall some of the manners he’d possessed all his life. He feigned a smile. “We really do.”
    “Of course,” she said, giving him a coy little smirk. “We shall allow you to settle in, of course,” she was saying now. “Before we visit.”
    He was grateful to see his bride’s answering expression was less than enthusiastic. Perhaps she dreaded the idea of being visited by the Countess of Conley as much as he did.
    The countess patted him on the arm, smiled at Veronica. “Here we thought our Anne would be the first of the girls to