“Sophie is much nicer than I am,” Kate said wryly, “patient and sweet-natured. I think she got more of the gift and I got more of that capricious fairy temper.” She twisted her mouth awry.
Alec laughed softly. Lord, how he loved her. It turned inside him, aching, because he had not been able to set it free.
“Give yourself due. Your sister seems a gentle soul, and you may have a bit more fire, but you both have a special charm. I have not met Connor MacPherson, but when you see him, please give him my regards. I think he is a fortunate man.”
“You truly are leaving?” She glanced up at him with a quick, delicate frown.
He wished he could be as lucky as MacPherson, but this sister had refused his proposal. He would not ask again, would not beg. He looked away. He had wanted to avoid being hurt in love again, had shielded himself from it, yet here he was, taking the blow and using pride for a shield again.
“It is best if I go. You said so yourself. I thought to speak with your brother and ask to borrow a horse for the journey back.”
“Of course,” she said demurely. His heart sank further when she did not protest his decision. “My brother is outside on the veranda.”
“Good.” He moved away.
“Alec, wait.” She turned.
“Aye?” He looked over his shoulder, standing apart from her, yet feeling a strangepull in his belly, as if a cord tugged between them.
“So you are willing to go to Edinburgh without me?”
“Shall I drag you out of here shrieking, with a host of Highlanders on my tail? I think not.” He felt impatient suddenly, harsh when he did not mean to be. “I will report my prisoner lost and take my chances. It is better for you that way, love,” he said.
He turned and walked toward the garden doors. Her footsteps tapped behind him, but he did not turn. Opening the door for her, he waited in silence as she passed through ahead of him.