CHAPTER SEVENMoira was most surprised to find Ewen already seated at the dining table when she came down for breakfast the next morning.
“Good day, Moira,” he called, wolfing down porridge and thickly buttered toast.
“You are in good spirits, brother. I hope you are going to tell me more of the young lady who is obviously responsible.”
“Aye, I confess I am exhilarated. The young lady is called Mary Anne, she is twenty and her father is a Marquis. She is enchanting and it is my intention to call upon her this very morning.”
He seemed so excited that Moira was quite touched. Her brother – in love!
“What does she look like? Is she pretty?”
“Very. You could not mistake her for her hair is as red as mine. I told her that she must have Scots blood.”
Moira had the vaguest recollection of a
