Page 42 of Tempting the Highland Spy
He smiled, despite himself. “If we don’t hurry, you’ll need to change into your evening ensemble.”
She waved him away with a flick of her wrist. “I told you I would be ready within the hour.”
“Are you aware that was ninety minutes ago?”
Grace gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve only a bit more to do. My hair does not want to cooperate in this humidity.” She peered into the mirror, fussing a bit over her upswept curls. “Besides, if we show our faces too bright and early, some might question that we are newlyweds. After all, we’re on our honeymoon. I doubt we would be leaving this room before noon.”
“I suppose you could say that.” He cleared his throat again. Odd, how the words seemed to stick in his throat.
She twisted a wayward curl into place and pinned it. “I’ve heard tell that Sally and Dougal had such a grand time on their wedding trip, they scandalized the hotel staff.”
Harrison pictured the groom at the first wedding where he’d encountered Grace. She’d been a bridesmaid then, quickly ingratiating herself to the wedding party and the guests.
“Are you certain? Dougal McLeod is as staid as they come.”
Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Rumor has it they remained in their room for the first three days…and nights…taking their meals in bed.”
Her words kindled thoughts he couldn’t afford to harbor—images of strawberry-blond curls spread over his pillow, a tempting smile, shapely limbs splayed over the cotton sheets. By hellfire, it would be a miracle if he retained his sanity by the end of this mission.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to believe the gossips,” he said, forcing a bland reply.
“Perhaps you’re right. But then again, Dougal and Sally are in love. Truly and deeply.” Her voice had developed a faraway quality. “I think it’s rather delightful, really.”
Was the wistfulness in her eyes genuine? If he didn’t know better—if he didn’t know the truth of her deception—he’d be tempted to believe she was a secret romantic.
But he did know the truth.
Grace was a master at pretending to be something she wasn’t. Whether that persona was a wealthy debutante or simply a woman who longed for love, she selected the mask that best suited her purposes. He wasn’t about to deceive himself that she craved anything beyond the signed pardon that represented her freedom.
“It sounds like drivel to me. Now, we need to keep to our schedule…or at least, some approximation of it. It’s imperative that you make contact with Miss Fairchild today.”
She cocked her head slightly, regarding him as if he were a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve. “Drivel, is it? Are you telling me you do not believe in love?”
The question caught him off guard. She might as well have asked him to explain how it was that fate had such a wicked sense of humor. After all, that was the only explanation for the fact that he was standing here within arm’s length of a decidedly sturdy bed, discussing another man’s wedding night…and those that followed.
He met her eyes, studying her. Her curiosity appeared to be sincere.
“I didn’t say that. Truth be told, my parents have been deeply committed to one another for many years.”
“They married for love?” Something that looked like hope brightened her eyes.
He nodded. “From what I’ve been told, their union faced a variety of obstacles. But they were undeterred.”
A soft smile played on her lips. “Perhaps, you will tell me their story…when time permits.”
“Indeed. When time permits.”
“And your brother…surely you cannot deny the love between Gerard and Lady Evelyn. He risked his life to save her.”
“He is devoted to her,” Harrison said, picturing his rowdy, reckless older brother and his lovely bride. No one in the family, save for their mother, might have predicted the way Gerard had cast aside his roguish ways. He’d fallen hard for the lovely English bridesmaid he’d been sent to protect while she, like Grace, was a member of a Highland wedding party.
“There is nothing like a Scottish wedding,” she said. “I’ve attended my share of weddings from New York to the Highlands, and the Highland setting is by far my favorite.”
He nodded slowly. “I understand you’re rather an expert at weddings.”
“You might say it’s in my line of work.”
If he’d had any sense, he would change the subject. But the cheekiness of her tone was too damned appealing to let the remark go.
