Kissing the Highland Twin

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Copyright © 2022 Amy Jarecki Book Cover Design by: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs Published by Oliver-Heber Books 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue Author’s Note Also by Amy Jarecki About the Author To readers wherever you may be - follow your dreams! 1 AUGUST 1816 From his perch on the red velvet armchair, Andrew studied the chessboard and plotted his options while making his brother wait. He rubbed his fingers together, relishing Philip’s mounting tension as it charged the air to the point of combustion. Their Wednesday night games were as much an exercise in endurance as they were in strategy. A hazy ring of obnoxious pipe smoke swirled above Philip’s head as he feigned indifference, fixating on the ceiling’s rococo relief. But Andrew knew better. His twin was never reticent or at ease in any way. In fact, Sir Philip MacGalloway’s mind never stopped churning, not even in sleep. In the past five minutes, aside from growing impatient with Andrew taking an exorbitant amount of time to make his next move, Philip most likely had compiled and summed the month’s cloth sales from all corners of Christendom. Simultaneously, Andrew had categorized the vast differences in breasts he’d had the pleasure of fondling over the years. Large, medium, and small, round, oval, teardrop, pert. Regardless of the size and shape, he adored breasts, worshiped them, was in awe of them. Alas, there were no breasts to be admired tonight. Sighing, he batted the repugnant smoke away from his face. He hated pipe smoke. It not only stank, it made Andrew’s hair smell like an ashtray as well as linger in the weave of his clothes. He might look like his brother, but that’s where their similarities ended. Though he would defend Philip’s honor anywhere at any time to anyone no matter their station, there was a chess game to navigate—one thing he enjoyed winning, especially when executing the fierce annihilation of his twin. Presently, however, with Andrew’s king in check, they both knew he had but one move to spare himself from checkmate. “Knight takes queen.” Philip drew in another puff from his pipe before meeting Andrew’s gaze. Their eyes were exactly the same shade of dark blue, the differences in their visages so slight, looking across the chessboard was nearly akin to staring into a mirror. “What say you to a wager?” They’d been playing chess since their childhood tutor had introduced the game and, had they counted, each man most likely had won an equal number of matches, some upon which they wagered, but not all. Andrew examined the remaining pieces on the board. Given his last move, the odds for a victory now tilted in his favor. “What do you have in mind?” Philip brushed a fleck of lint from his kilt before moving a pawn. “I need you to attend Mama’s house party in my stead.” What the devil? “Have you lost your mind?” Positive that he had indeed gained the upper hand, Andrew slid his queen horizontally. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have also been summoned to Stack Castle by our mother.” “Yes, but it would be much more acceptable if you didna attend.” “So, now I’m the insignificant second twin?” “Nay. I was referring to Miss Radcliffe.” Philip moved a chess piece, but Andrew was too outraged to take note of which one. “My intended would be unduly slighted if I were not there upon her arrival. Why must you always turn everything into a woeful tale about making an appearance to the world twenty minutes after me?” “Because I continually seem to be the dupe who everyone leans upon, expecting me to act in their stead—and dunna deny it. Marty has appointed me to stand in for him in Parliament twice now. And you. Good God, I might as well change my name to Philip.” “Hogwash.” Philip crossed his hairy knees, the cad. “I attended more than one class on your behalf at university. Come, Andy, I need you, just this once. Beatrice is running her first race in Perth and—” “I kent it! You would rather watch an untried horse gallop around a track than spend a sennight with your betrothed.” Andrew coughed out a guffaw. “You’ve made that woman wait three years. She’ll be too old to bear children by the time you pull the stick out of your arse and manage to hobble down the aisle.” “Och, it’ll only be for two days, mayhap three. Then I’ll hasten up to John O’Groats and you will be able to take your leave early with no one the wiser.” “Aside from Mama and the rest of our kin.” Andrew examined the board and again moved his queen, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue. With luck, only one more move and he’d secure a mate. “A wager, did you say? What will you do if I win?” “You willna,” Philip said, as he advanced his pawn to square D-8. “Queen me.” Andrew gaped at the