Page 43 of Wild Wicked Scot
“Where were you?” she murmured sleepily into her pillow.
“Minding things.”
“Do you have a mistress?”
Arran sighed impatiently. “No. I’ve been unfailingly and uncomfortably and some say foolishly loyal to the marriage vows I made before you and God, aye?”
Margot shifted onto her back and blinked up at him with lids heavy with sleep. She smiled softly and touched a lock of hair on his forehead. “Truly?”
“I would no’ say so were it false. There has been no one but you since we wed. Can you say the same?”
She touched the tip of her finger to his lips.
“Before you answer, I will caution you against falsehood,” he said, and lightly bit the tip of her finger before pulling her hand down. “Dermid has been near Norwood Park since you left, aye?”
“Oh, indeed he has,” she said with a sigh. “Someone isalwayswatching me. I will be entirely honest, but you will not like my answer.”
Bloody hell.He steeled himself. “Go on, then. Donna trifle with me.”
She looked him in the eye. “Shortly after I returned to Norwood Park, I allowed a gentleman to kiss me.”
Arran frowned. He waited. Surely there was more to it. “Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Aye, it matters,” he said, catching her hand and keeping her from touching him again.“Who?”
“Sir William Dalton,” she said, and pulled her hand free. “I shouldn’t think you’d know of him.”
Arran didn’t know him, but he would commit that name to memory and kill the bloody bounder one day. “Why did you allow it, then?” he demanded. “Do you love him?”
“Love?”She giggled. “No! Not for a moment.” She rolled onto her belly beside him and came up on her elbows; the scent of her perfume wafted over him. She smelled like flowers. A bouquet of flowers. “God’s truth, I don’t know why I did it,” she said low. “I’d had a bit of port that evening and I was feeling a bit morose. And vexed.”
“What had you vexed?”
“Well,you, my darling husband,” she said, as if he should have guessed as much. “I was angry that I’d been forced into marriage and suddenly had no hope of another one.”
“Thank you,” he said, and fell onto his back. He threw one arm over his eyes, not wanting to see her face.
Margot clucked her tongue. “Don’t be missish, Mackenzie. You know very well what I mean.”
“I donna know what you mean, Margot. Ineverknow what you mean.”
“Are you really surprised? Our marriage was arranged to expand my father’s and your fortunes. It was not made for compatibility. Surely you can see it is not one I would ever have chosen for myself.”
“I donna see why no’,” he said petulantly.
“Because I’d only met you! One cannot determine compatibility for a lifetime in one or two meetings. And the marriage didn’t seem to suit either of us, did it? And there I was, come home from the disaster of it—”
“It wasna adisaster—”
“—and Sir Dalton was quite convincing in his esteem for me.”
“This is no’ easing me,” he said gruffly.
“I allowed him to kiss me in a moment of weakness. And then...” Her voice trailed off.
Arran removed his arm from his eyes and peered over at her. “Andthen?”
