“You know Rosalind?” Calla might have been surprised, but she often got referrals from one party and ended up meeting many of the same people at new parties.

“Sure. These parties are often for all of the same people. I couldn’t go to the toga party because I was trying to get ready for this one. I wished I’d seen it, though. The Rankins’ parties are always mixed…”—Ivy lowered her voice—“mixed wolf-human affairs. Not that Rosalind and her brother realize it. Rosalind told me she met some guy Calla was dating. And you must be him.”

“Aye, one and the same.” Guthrie bowed his head a little in acknowledgment to Ivy.

“You know, everyone’s supposed to be wearing masks,” Ivy said, but since she wasn’t wearing one either, Guthrie figured she’d let it slide. Ivy turned back to Calla. “You were coming with a fiancé, last I’d heard.”

Immediately, Guthrie stiffened beside Calla.

Calla wanted to squeeze his arm to tell him she was all right with talking about it. “Aye, change of plans.”

Ivy gave her a big grin as she led them into the great hall where refreshments and hors d’oeuvres were being served. Several guests were loitering beside a very tall, skinny tree decorated in Santas and bows, listening as a band played Celtic Christmas music.

“So what happened? You called off the wedding?” Ivy asked.

“Aye. It wouldn’t have worked out,” Calla said, though she didn’t want to talk about it here and now. She was here strictly to revel in the party atmosphere.

“Not with you being an alpha, it wouldn’t have.”

Calla suddenly felt strong vibes that Ivy wasn’t just idly chitchatting.

“You…know him well?” Calla asked, concerned that Baird might actually come to the party. Especially if he’d been friends with Ivy and her family. He’d never mentioned anything about knowing Ivy when Calla had talked to him about attending the masquerade with her. She wasn’t worried for herself if Baird showed up, but she was afraid he would pick a fight with Guthrie. Or his kin would with Guthrie’s kin.

“I dated him right before you must have started seeing him. I met with him on a seal boat trip out of Dunvegan Castle.”

“Baird acting like a tourist? Not in this lifetime,” Guthrie said. “If he’d been out hunting the seals, then I could envision it.”

Calla suddenly felt queasy. “I met him there too,” she said. Guthrie looked at her suspiciously and she explained, “I was just starting up my business here. I had some free time on my hands and thought it would be fun. I didn’t think anything of him being there. Just two single wolves running into each other. We saw nesting herons, Arctic terns, and sea eagles.”

“So you had a camera with you?” Guthrie asked.

“Well, aye. Don’t all tourists?”

He snorted. “Did Baird?”

“Nay,” she admitted. “I supposed not all tourists have them.” Or Baird had not been a tourist. Which meant Baird had suckered her right in. That reminded her of how lonely she’d been, wishing she could find a wolf to do that kind of thing with.

Ivy laughed. “You would make a good detective with Scotland Yard, Guthrie.”

“Was he with his kin or alone? I swear he rarely goes anywhere alone,” Guthrie said.

“Alone,” Calla said on a sigh. “He acted like he was totally smitten with me. You can’t know how flattering that was for a change. In retrospect, I realize he never went there afterward. With me or with others—not that I know of, anyway.”

“He has a friend who works there,” Ivy said. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Since Baird met you the same way, his friend probably let him know that there was another single she-wolf on the tour. I think the guy who schedules the tours is a distant relation. I suspect he asked you the usual questions—is this for a group purchase, single visitor, ever been there before? What is your age—to see if you are eligible for a discount. What is your job, for the same reason.”

Calla shook her head in disbelief.

“A girlfriend of mine, who is single, booked a tour with them for a group,” Ivy continued. “Once she said that she was making arrangements for a group, the booking agent didn’t need to know more. He didn’t ask her age or occupation. Just the credit card number that the charge would go on.

“To sweeten the deal on the seal boat tour, the booking agent gave me a discount for having my own business. At the boat dock, Baird was acting interested in the birds when I smelled that he was a wolf. He was obviously alone, no other wolves on the tour, and he seemed really interested in the tour. Not in me. I liked that he didn’t know I was a wolf yet. Ha! As if.”

“What do you mean?” Calla asked.

“Did you have to book your tour a week in advance?” Ivy said.

“Yes…?” Calla answered with increasing unease.

“I think it’s because then Baird would do some investigation of his own. Or have one of his minions do it. And I fit his type exactly: I am single, have well-to-do parents who aren’t with a pack, and I was lonely—a rebound from another relationship,” Ivy said.

That sent warning bells ringing.

“Oh, and I’m a successful dress designer, which makes me think that he likes women who are financially secure on their own.”

“You’re kidding,” Calla said, knowing she wasn’t. How far had he gone to learn about her? If she had used a dating service, he would have known something about her right off, but she would have known some things about him too. It wouldn’t be as one-sided, as underhanded as this.