Highland Awakening by Jennifer Haymore Page B

statement.
    “Oh, but Lady Esme, I would very much like to have a say over what you do.”
    Her lips curved ever so slightly, but then she shook her head. “Alas, it is too late for that…any of it,” she murmured.
    “ ’Tis never too late.”
    “You’re wrong about that, Mr. McLeod.” She said it with such certainty it felt like a slap.
    He hesitated only a fraction of a second. “Aye, well, I concede, sometimes it is. After the vows have been spoken and a marriage consummated. Only then is it too late.”
    She was silent for a moment, and then her lips curved higher. “That, of all the things you’ve said tonight, impresses me the most.”
    He tilted his head at her, not comprehending.
    “Many of the men in our society believe a consummated marriage doesn’t mean it’s too late to engage in flippant affairs,” she explained. “In fact, many believe that after they’re married, adultery is the next logical step.”
    Cam thought of his father, and bitterness rushed through him, so potent he had to look away from Esme and turn to gaze out over the park. “ ’Tis a good thing I’m not part of society, then,” he said quietly.
    “But you are part of society. You are here tonight,” she argued.
    “Only because—” He broke off, then slid her a glance. “I nearly forgot, I’m not to be telling you why. But I’ll say my presence here is in no way an effort to reestablish myself into society.”
    “Hmm,” she said. “I think I believe you. You possess little regard for society, don’t you?”
    “Very little,” he agreed. “But back to your belief that it’s too late. That you are already well and truly tied to Whitworth. I’m going to say again—’tisn’t too late. Engagements can be broken. You must break yours.”
    “You cannot be serious.”
    He gave her a dry look. “I’m completely serious.”
    She simply stared at him.
    He gave a patient sigh. “Esme. I’ve made no secret of my interest in you. Now I ken where you live. I ken your true identity. D’you really think I’ll stay away?”
    “I…” Her voice dwindled, and he shook his head firmly.
    “I wilna stay away,” he said softly. “Because I want you.”
    She closed her eyes. “I cannot break my engagement. I would not do that to Henry. I could not hurt him like that.”
    Cam held back a snort of disgust. Because he was fairly certain that Henry Whitworth was exactly one of those men who considered adultery the natural next step after marriage. But he couldn’t prove it—he hadn’t seen Whitworth in years and had no idea where and with whom he spent his time.
    Obviously Esme thought the man was some kind of a saint.
    He gave her a slow smile. “You’ll change your mind.”
    She looked away from him, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in the skirt of her dress.
    Her lovely, expensive, stylish dress. The dress of an English duke’s sister. A part of him was amazed by the intensity of his attraction for her. Even knowing that she was an English duke’s sister—the
Duke of Trent’s
sister—hadn’t dampened his interest.
    “I don’t think so,” she said quietly. “I made my decision, Mr. McLeod, long before I knew you.”
    He shrugged.
    “And even now I hardly know you at all. I know you’re an earl’s son.” He stiffened, but she didn’t seem to notice. “And that you’re Scottish. But that’s all. How can I break an engagement based on those simple facts?”
    Simple? Hardly. “You ken more,” he said.
    “Such as?”
    “My name. What I look like. What my lips feel like on yours. How much I want you.”
    Even in the dim moonlight, he could see the blush spread over her cheekbones. He wanted to touch her there. Feel the heat rushing over her skin against his fingertips.
    She lowered her eyes, her lashes lush on the light olive tone of her skin.
    “Mr. McLeod…you…” She shook her head. “The things you make me…”
    “Feel?” he said softly.
    “Yes.” She raised her gaze until it