Page 6 of A Scot on Duchess Square
His nose had been broken but still appeared firm and aquiline.
His mouth was a touch too broad, but it suited his face. In fact…
No, she refused to consider what his kiss might feel like.
She had already felt his warm skin against her cheek because he wore no shirt and her body had been shockingly up againsthis. When she’d breathed him in, she had caught his appealing scent of sandalwood and male heat. Surprisingly nice.
But none of it mattered.
She wanted to be returned to Edinburgh, hop in her carriage, and make haste back to London with Gwenys. Too bad this oaf was going to be in London, too. But she would be safe enough from any embarrassing encounters. They were not likely to attend the same balls or musicales. Even if they did, they could easily ignore each other amid the crush.
Nor would she ever have reason to run into him at some scientific lecture or charitable function, for he did not seem the academic sort.
Although he did seem to have a good vocabulary.
Could he be handsome as sin and also have a fine intellect?
She dared not consider it.
He would likely spend his leisure hours at a gentlemen’s boxing club or drinking at some pub, although he clearly did not look like a sot.
He folded his arms across his massive chest. “So ye think I am no’ good enough for ye, my fine lady?”
She sighed. “That isn’t what I said. Do you deny you have an ulterior motive for proposing to me? You would not have given me the time of day had we met under different circumstances.”
“Ye canno’ know this. In fact, now that we have met, I am keen to get to know ye better,” he said, casting her a smile she might have considered attractive had they met at some Society affair.
She turned away, and immediately felt a sharp twinge to her ribs. “Enough of this nonsense,” she said, still turned away to hide her wince. “Where is the tea? And cakesyourMairie supposedly baked?”
“She is no’myMairie, whatever yer comment is meant to imply. She’s the cook here and has been since I was a lad.”
“I see,” she remarked by way of apology. “I’d like to warm my insides and then lie down for a bit.”
She gingerly touched her ribs, which were quite sore from hours of jostling as she was hauled over Mongo’s lap on her stomach and forced to endure his saddle’s digging into her body for the entire ride to Lanark Castle. “Truly, I am in no humor for your flattery, which is obviously calculated to put me off my guard, nor do I care for any of this ridiculous conversation.”
He frowned when she sank back in her chair, no longer able to hide the discomfort that had caught up to her now that she had calmed down.
“Miranda?” He unfolded his arms and knelt beside her once more. “Och, Miranda,” he said gently, her name sliding off his tongue with a soft roll of theRthat sounded lovely in his deep brogue. “I didna think to ask if ye were hurt. In truth, ye seemed so strong and vital while hurling everything ye could get yer hands on at Mongo. Aye, the lad deserved it. Taking ye was bad enough, but it pains me to think ye were physically hurt, too.”
“No, I’m fine.”
He placed a hand on her ribs and pressed lightly.
She let out a cry. “Let go of me!”
“I merely touched yer rib cage. I wasn’t holding on to ye. Do ye think ye might have broken a rib or two?”
“No, I’m sure they are merely bruised,” she insisted, because if they were broken he would insist on confining her to bed until they healed.
She did not wish to stay here an hour longer than necessary. Indeed, not aminutelonger.
“Miranda,” he said, his voice achingly gentle again, “let my housekeeper inspect those bruises. Tilda’s a healer, and I trust her to make certain ye aren’t hurt worse than ye are letting on. I’m so sorry, lass.”
He did look sincerely contrite, but she was not inclined to soften toward him. Why should she when he was the cause of her ills? It was his fault he had remained a bachelor when he obviously could have found himself a good wife, for he was incredibly handsome despite his apparent belief otherwise.
In truth, she was surprised how perfectly the rough bits of him fell together to form this appealing specimen of a man.
Also, he was a duke who seemed to be prosperous, if the furnishings she had destroyed were any indication. And those muscles.Dear heaven. Those indicated he was also hardworking. So, why remain a bachelor when he could have had his pick of Scottish maidens? Many English ladies would have leaped at the chance to become his wife, too.
