“I would not!” Daphne retorted. “But youareimpossible.”
“You’re both ridiculous,” Wilhelmina declared, flicking a leaf off her bonnet. “But I’ll allow it. Better a dragon than a debutante, I suppose.”
Elizabeth, seated on the blanket nearby, shook her head with a smile as she exchanged a glance with Alasdair. “I don’t know whether to worry or take notes.”
“Take notes,” Alasdair said dryly. “We might need them if Victoria ever starts hoardin’ livestock and roastin’ footmen.”
“Iwould not roast footmen,” Victoria muttered. “Only rude ones.”
“It was meant to be a foolproof plan,” Alasdair whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, his mouth curving in mischief. “But I dinnae account for yer sisters, wife.”
“Nothing can be foolproof when they’re involved,” Elizabeth replied fondly, glancing at the twins as they argued about whether or not Victoria would realistically be able to wear necklaces as a dragon.
Seth, lounging nearby with a hand resting lazily on his knee, grinned. “I thought this was supposed to be a romantic outing. Instead, Sandy boy here looks like he’s bracing himself for battle.”
“Sandy boy?” Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at Alasdair, who put a hand on his face in exasperation.
“Must ye humiliate me before me wife, Whitton?” he hissed at Seth.
Seth only laughed, “Oh, please. You know that damn well that is the very purpose of unmarried friends.”
Alasdair rolled his eyes, and Elizabeth smiled. She enjoyed this easy, familiar version of her husband. She deeply enjoyed the intimate version of him that was just for her, but this… This moment, with him, his friend, and Elizabeth’s family… It was all she could ever dream of.
“I shall repeat myself:Sandy boy?” she teased, nudging Alasdair gently.
Alasdair sighed, “Me grandmaither called me Sandy in the years before she died. I believed this cad over here picked it up when I told him a story involving her.”
“Very observant of you, Lord Whitton,” Elizabeth turned to the earl.
“My dear duchess, please call me Seth. I feel terribly left out when you address everyone else here by name,” Seth purred.
Elizabeth giggled, “Very well, Seth. I’d very much like to hear…Sandy boy’s story from your perspective.”
Alasdair groaned the moment she referred to him by his nickname.
“Thank you, my dear. As for your request, it’d be my pleasure,” he bowed his head with a flourish, “So, our fearsome Highland warrior here—yourSandy boy—was once a sprightly lad of eight who attempted to rescue a duckling from the estate pond.”
“I already regret this,” Alasdair muttered into his lemonade.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Seth said cheerfully. “You told me this over brandy once, and it was the highlight of my week.”
Elizabeth leaned forward, eyes alight. “Go on.”
“Well, there he was, a small, wild-haired, and determined boy. The duckling had wandered off from its mother, and little Sandy believed he was uniquely called upon to reunite them. In his infinite wisdom, he leapt straight into the pond—fully clothed, I might add—while screaming‘Ye’ll nae perish on my watch, wee beastie!’”
“No,” Elizabeth gasped, biting her knuckle to suppress laughter. “You did not.”
“Oh, he did,” Seth confirmed smugly. “Then he got tangled in the lily pads and had to be hauled out by the groundskeeper, sputtering about heroic duties and water spirits. His grandmother gave him a tartan blanket and a warm scone and said,‘Ye’ve got a brave heart, Sandy.’Thus, the name stuck.”
“Traitor,” Alasdair said flatly. “All of this slander. And in front of my wife.”
Elizabeth’s eyes shimmered with laughter. “I can’t decide what I love more,‘wee beastie’or‘brave heart.’”
“Don’t forget the water spirits,” Seth added helpfully.
“I was eight,” Alasdair growled. “And the duckling survived, if anyone cares to ask.”
“It did,” Seth conceded. “Though I’ve always suspected it wandered off again purely to escape your war cries.”