Page 50 of A Rogue in Twilight
He struggled to piece all this together, yet desire warmed him, and a sense of hope rose in him, rusty and yet there. He did not understand her, but he wanted her quite desperately now. But he would not make a fool of himself by falling for fairy nonsense. Everything had an explanation. Everything.
“Then we should go, sooner than—I wanted.” As she walked past him, a feeling overwhelmed him, physical desire mingling with deep longing. “Elspeth.”
She spun and reached out just as he took her into his arms and kissed her again, long and thoroughly, and she returned a fervent kiss that erased doubt, frustration, time itself.
Then he drew back, brushed her hair back, kissed her brow. “You cannot deny that there is something strong between us. Shall we agree on an engagement? I will speak to your grandfather.”
She shook her head. “I think not.”
“Fickle lass. I thought you were ready to agree.”
“I am. And then it changes. Perhaps it is my fairy blood,” she said lightly. “They do say it is in my kin, far back. Or more recently,” she added.
“You have no idea,” he said, “how much I want to believe that.”
“Perhaps you will come around to it someday.” She smiled, whimsical, amused, and walked ahead of him.
Chapter Twelve
Soon enough andtoo soon, for she was that conflicted about leaving Struan House, Elspeth sat in the creaky old gig beside James. He slowed as a carriage came along the road toward them and slowed.
“Good afternoon, Angus MacKimmie,” James called. “And Mrs. MacKimmie. Good to see you back so soon.”
The housekeeper, sitting in the coach with a maidservant, leaned forward. “My lord, good to see you as well. My daughter has enough help, and with your guests arriving soon, next week, I thought I would be needed here. Good day, Miss MacArthur,” she added, looking a bit surprised.
“Mrs. MacKimmie,” Elspeth said, blushing. “Lord Struan kindly offered to give me a ride to Kilcrennan.”
James nodded without explanation. Sensing the housekeeper bursting to know, Elspeth only smiled.
“How are the roads, MacKimmie?” James asked.
“Well enough, depending where you go. Over to Kilcrennan, watch out for the bridge.” He peered toward Elspeth. “Good afternoon, Miss MacArthur,” he said, tipping his hat.
“We heard the bridge had some damage,” James said.
“There’s mud gushing down the hills to swamp the road in places,” MacKimmie went on, “and some trees are down. The stone bridge is nearly washed over. I wouldna go that way, sir.”
Elspeth hung back in silence as James thanked him, and she felt pure relief when the vehicles rattled in opposite directions. “Thank you for not saying anything about yesterday.”
“No need to explain,” he replied, eyes intent on the road.
“Mrs. MacKimmie is a good-hearted soul and would say naught about it. But Willie Buchanan and his son may let everyone know our business.”
“With luck, they will soon hear of an engagement, and no harm done. I imagine secrets do not keep long in a small glen.”
“The fairies keep their secrets. Humans have more trouble with it.”
“I think you have a few secrets yourself,” he murmured.
“As do you.”
“You are sniffing them out with your Highland powers,” he said.
She lifted her chin, feeling a bit hurt. “Most people take me at my word.”
“I am a cautious sort. But I trust you tell the truth where you see it. Now, I have a question for you.”
“I will not marry you.”
