This is a scene from about half way through The Reluctant Duke- the first in my Spares series :-)
“Miss Collins won’t care about being buried in Scotland for the rest of her life?” Rupert asked, voicing an obviously common held belief that she would.
Colin shook his head no. No, she wouldn’t. She would be happy as long as her family was set up. She would watch over McTavish’s tenants, give him children, share his bed. A sudden vision of the big Scot covering Annabelle’s small but lush body with his own flashed before Colin’s eyes and he saw red. Anger and a searing jealousy ripped through him and before he could control his wayward emotions the fragile crystal of the whiskey glass shattered in his hand.
Gasping as pain sliced through his palm he jumped up and away from the fragments of glass. Rupert rushed over to him, wrapping Colin’s palm quickly in his large white handkerchief.
“You are having no luck with your whiskey today,” he joked lightly, wrapping the wound tightly, tying it off.