Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

An earsplitting report, a flash of light from the muzzle, and one of the rabbit sculptures on the wall shattered.

In the silence that followed, Merritt heard her father say dryly, “Go on, Merritt. Put the other bunny out of its misery.”

She cocked the hammer, aimed and fired again. The second rabbit sculpture exploded.

“Sweet Mother Mary,” Ethan said in wonder. “I’ve never seen a woman shoot like that.”

“My father taught all of us how to shoot and handle firearms safely,” Merritt said, giving the revolver back to him grip-first.

Ethan reholstered the gun and stared into her face for a long moment. He nodded slightly, understanding the reason for her demonstration. “It’s up to him,” he said, his gaze flickering to the man just behind her.

Merritt turned to Keir, who was staring at Ethan, his eyes a chilled light blue. “She’s no’ going to Islay with me,” he said flatly.

“I can do more than hit targets,” Merritt said. “I can pursue and hunt game while moving behind cover. I’m comfortable with using telescopes and field-glasses, and I’m good at calculating distance even on open terrain. And, unlike Ethan and his agents, I can literally stay within arm’s reach of you most of the time, including at night.”

Her mother’s voice came from beside the French doors. “Merritt darling, you know I’m usually the first to say to hell with proprieties. But it falls to me to point out that you can’t stay at the home of an unmarried man without … well …”

“I’ve already thought of that,” Merritt said. “We could stop at Gretna Green on the way, just as Uncle Sebastian and Aunt Evie did.”

“First,” Keir said coolly, “I have no’ proposed yet. Second, there are no border weddings in Scotland now. They changed the law twenty-five years ago. People have to bide in Scotland for at least three weeks before they’re allowed to wed.”

Merritt frowned. “Drat,” she muttered.

Uncle Sebastian cleared his throat. “Actually …” He pretended not to notice as Keir sent him a damning glare.

“Yes, Uncle?” Merritt prompted hopefully.

“There’s an ancient Scottish tradition called marriage by declaration,” Sebastian continued, “that’s still legal. If you state in front of two witnesses that you both freely consent to become husband and wife, the local sheriff will have it registered.”

“No waiting period?” Merritt asked.

“None.”

“And it’s legal outside of Scotland?”

“Indeed.”

“How perfectly convenient,” Merritt said in satisfaction.

Keir’s expression had turned thunderous. “You’re no’ going with me,” he told her. “I’m putting my foot down.”

“Darling,” she said reasonably, “you can’t put your foot down, I’ve already put my foot down.”

His eyes narrowed. “Mine is bigger.”

“Mine is faster,” Merritt said. “I’m going to start packing.”

She fled before he could reply, and he followed at her heels.

AFTER THE PAIR had left, and Ransom had gone to write some telegrams, Sebastian remained in the parlor with Westcliff, Lillian, and Evie.

Westcliff went to Lillian and slid his arms around her. “Well,” he asked, “would you advise locking her in her room, or should we threaten to cut off her allowance?”

A rueful smile crossed Lillian’s lips. “I couldn’t help but wonder if you regretted having taught her to shoot so well.”

“For a moment,” Westcliff admitted. “But MacRae won’t capitulate. I could see it in his face.”

“I pity the lad,” Sebastian commented. “In her ladylike way, Merritt is a sledgehammer.”

Wryly, Westcliff commented, “All three of my daughters are hellbent on making decisions for themselves. They always have been.”

“Mine as well,” Sebastian said. “Much to my dismay.” Noticing the way Lillian and Evie glanced at each other and smiled, as if at some shared reminiscence, he asked, “What is it?”

“I was remembering the conversations we used to have with Annabelle and Daisy,” Evie told him, “about the things we wanted to teach our daughters.”

Lillian grinned. “The first point we all agreed upon was, ‘Never let a man do your thinking for you.’”

“That explains a great deal,” Sebastian said. “Evie, my sweet, don’t you think you should have asked me before filling the girls’ heads with subversive wallflower philosophy?”

Evie came to him, slid her arms around him, and tucked her head beneath his chin. He could hear a smile in her voice as she said, “Wallflowers never ask permission.”

KEIR FOLLOWED MERRITT into her room and closed the door with a little more force than was necessary. She turned to face him, her lips parted, but he held up his hand in a staying motion before she could get a word out. He was angry and worried and filled with agitation, and he didn’t want to be soothed or cajoled. He needed her to understand something.

“Sit,” he said gruffly, pointing to a chair next to a little table.

Merritt complied, arranging her skirts and folding her hands neatly in her lap. She watched calmly as he paced back and forth in front of her.