quite the gentleman.”
“Aunt May, would I be correct in thinking that you like that man?”
Her aunt pursed her lips. “Perhaps.”
“And that you maybe thought him too rough before?”
“Something like that.” She tilted her head. “But even an old woman can
be wrong once in a while, can she not?”
Rose laughed and embraced her. “Of course you can, Aunt May. Of course
you can.”
Chapter Eight
Hamish rubbed a hand across his freshly shaven chin. He felt about as vulnerable
as a newborn bairn without the stubble. He took a tour around the dining room
and admired the fresh flowers and the elegant table settings. Who could believe
that a year ago, when he was sleeping in a tent to the sound of cannon fire,
that he would end up here, dining with the good folk of Baleith.
And Rose.
He smiled. Helping her aunt had been a stroke of luck. Not for Mrs.
Merriweather perhaps but for himself. It had made it impossible for her to
refuse his invitation, meaning he could have more time with Rose. If he could
prove himself tonight, perhaps she would give him permission to court her.
That was his intention, to be certain. Rose was clever, sweet, and
funny. He wanted—nay, needed—to get to know her better.
A few more kisses would not hurt either.
Not tonight, though. Tonight he was intent on proving he was far more
than a highland barbarian. The other families could hang, he couldn’t care less
what they thought of him, but he grudgingly admitted the show would not hurt
his cause of settling into the area. He had discovered much of his cousin’s
business dealings had been with local families of wealth, so he would have to
continue to nurture those relationships as best as he could.
He glanced down at his formal attire. He would not be abandoning his
kilt, however, regardless of how others saw him. There was only so much a highlander
would do for approval.
“How do I look?”
He pivoted to see Marianne in the doorway. By some miracle, he’d avoided
her the past few days, though there had been the recent incident where she had
conjured up some nightmare as an excuse to slip into his room in her nightgown.
Needless to say, she had been swiftly escorted out.
In dark green silk and capped sleeves, she did look beautiful. However,
her beauty could hardly mask the scheming glint in her eyes. He took a step
forward, his jaw tight.
“Did I no’ say ye wouldnae be attending tonight?”
The pulse fluttered in her neck. “I dinnae recall.”
“How do ye think it would look for me to have ye attend?”
“Are ye ashamed of me?”
“Aye, ashamed my cousin ever took ye for a mistress.”
Eyes wide, she staggered back slightly as though about to fall into a
faint. He ignored the movement. He had been patient for long enough. Now she
intended to invade the dinner party that was to secure his chance with Rose and
introduce him to the rest of the local families? He would not stand for it. As
soon as he had made his intentions toward Rose clear, he would be marching down
to Edinburgh and speaking with his lawyers. As much as he wanted to respect his
cousin’s wishes—if he even had any toward Marianne—he could not abide her under
his roof any longer.
“I have housed and fed ye for some time now, Marianne. It is past time
for ye to leave.”
“But Malcolm—”
“Is dead. And he didnae make his wishes clear. I have offered ye a
generous amount in my cousin’s name but still ye willnae leave.”
“Hamish, please…I could keep ye company. I could make ye happy.” She
slunk forward, the silk gown swishing. “I made Malcolm happy. I know I can make
ye happy too.” A sultry pout pursed her lips. “I am very experienced. I could
pleasure ye for hours, Hamish. Hours and hours.”
She reached out to put a hand to his chest, and he grabbed her wrist. “I
have no interest in ye, Marianne. If ye know what’s good for ye, ye shall stay
out of sight tonight. Ye’ll have a week to leave and I shall ensure ye
Shyla Colt
Beth Cato
Norrey Ford
Sharon Shinn
Bryan Burrough
Azure Boone
Peggy Darty
Anne Rice
Jerry Pournelle
Erin Butler