Page 49 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
“Give her a reason, any reason.”
“Aye, and what is that? I am no’ practiced in the art of making lassies cry off their engagement.” He looked at Miss Holly for the answer. The color in her cheeks was high, the blush of a rose in fair skin. He gripped his hand into a fist to keep his desire in check and looked away.
“Tell her you mean to take a mistress as soon as you are wed.”
“No,” he said instantly. “I would no’. No one would believe it.”
“The only person who must believe it is Avaline. Don’t be so proud, sir—do you want to marry her?”
He could feel the storm of rage in him, swirling about, ready to blow the roof off this fortress.
“Be quite plain about it and don’t give in to her tears or trembling chin,” she said. “Avaline cries rather easily.”
He snorted. “There is no danger of my giving in to anything.” He suddenly stood, needing to be away from the blush of Miss Holly’s skin. But he glanced down at her before he walked away, trying to understand her. “I wonder how it is that a woman employed to see after an innocent lass can be so cunning in her deceit of her.”
Miss Holly’s color deepened. Her expression changed, and he had the impression he’d hurt her. “You said it yourself,” she said softly. “She is too artless. She is doing this out of a sense of duty with no notion of the anguish it might cause her for years to come.”
Rabbie didn’t want to marry that little chit, no. But he did not like to be painted as the swine who would ruin her life, either. He walked away, off the dais, and stepped into the middle of the dancing to relieve Aulay and stand up with his fiancée.
“Ah, here he is,” Aulay said, and looked, Rabbie thought, gratefully relieved of the duty. He handed Miss Kent to Rabbie. “Thank you, Avaline,” he said, and bowed.
Avaline?
“The pleasure was mine, Aulay,” she said, smiling sweetly.
Her smile faded the moment Aulay disappeared into the crowd.
“A reel, is it?” Rabbie asked, and began to dance, spinning her around, avoiding any conversation. Thankfully, the dance ended very soon after he’d relieved Aulay. He clasped her hand in his. “A word,” he said crisply.
“Oh.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the dais.
“Donna look so frightened,” he said gruffly. “I will no’ eat you.” He moved his hand to the small of her back to her hurry her along, and led her out of the great hall.
He escorted her down the corridor to the family salon. The hearth was lit, but there was no one within. He guided her in, and instantly dropped his hand. The moment he did, Miss Kent scurried to the middle of the room, and turned to face him. She was clutching one side of her gown and shaking like a leaf.Diah,she was a mouse. He leaned back against the closed door and folded his arms across his chest, studying her. She looked scarcely older than his niece, Maira. Shewasscarcely older than his niece. “We are to be married,” he said stiffly.
Her brows rose as if this was somehow news. “Yes,” she agreed. Her grip of her gown tightened.
“We ought to establish some rules, aye?”
“Rules?” she repeated, and now her brow furrowed in confusion.
“Aye. You will keep Killeaven in the manner the wife of a nobleman ought to keep it.”
She began to nod with great enthusiasm. “Of course. I know how—my mother has taught me.”
“I will keep Arrandale.”
Once again, her brow furrowed with confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“You donna understand,” he repeated, and pushed away from the door, walking toward her, his arms folded tightly across him. “Then I will make it plain, Miss Kent—”
“Avaline,” she said softly. “Miss Kent sounds so formal, doesn’t it? Please, mightn’t you call me Avaline?”
“I will make it plain,Avaline,” he bit out. “I will keep Arrandale for my mistress.”
Avaline blanched. Her jaw slowly dropped open as the words sank into her wee cake-head, and she clutched her hands together now, the knuckles white with the exertion of it. She was still trembling and staring at him with eyes as wide as tea saucers.
“You ought to know it,” he said gruffly.
