Page 80 of A Rogue in Twilight
“Your language deteriorates when you are upset.”
“A casualty of the war, my vocabulary. Go on.”
“I know, because I saw it here”—she tapped her brow—“and I just knew that my father painted the fairies and fell in love with one of them. And so they stole him away.”
He shook his head, huffed in surrender. If he was to trust her, he would have to believe her. It shook the foundations of reason, but he had to give credence to some of what she and her grandfather said and did. Because he loved her, and owed her that trust.
He was more lost than he thought possible. Reaching out, he traced his fingers over her soft hair, cupped her chin, tilted it. His body throbbed at that simple touch. “Beg pardon. So you just knew, in your way. Go on. I am listening.”
“And I saw, in my mind, your sister walking in the hills carrying a sketchbook. Does she have a habit of that?”
“She does. What else?”
“She could be watched by fairies. She must take care to avoid a bad fate.”
“Fiona is like me and too pragmatic to see them. If she ever did, they would have a devil of a time getting her to go with them. My sister may seem calm and composed, but she would give the fairies such a fuss they would be glad to escape with their lives. If they exist,” he added hastily.
“What promise did you and Fiona make to your grandmother?” she asked.
“And just when,” he said, resigned, “did that revelation come to you?”
“When I was talking to Fiona.Didyou make a promise to Lady Struan?”
“The book.”
“Something more, I think.”
He exhaled hard, thoughtful. Sooner or later, he had to tell her. “My grandmother set conditions on the inheritance. I must finish her fairy book—and find myself a Highland bride. To be specific, a fairy bride.”
“A fairy bride,” she repeated. She crossed her arms. Tapped her fingers.
“Otherwise there will be precious little inheritance, and most will go to Eldin.”
“Eldin. I see.” She watched him. “And so you met me.”
“Elspeth, it was not that way,” he said.
She pushed at his chest. “You knew this all along, yet said nothing!”
“We both have secrets,” he said.
“Secrets!” Elspeth’s temperfumed as she realized he had kept this from her. She glared up at him. “I may not have told you everything, but I never deceived you.”
“Nor I you.” When she pushed at him again, he gripped her wrist, drew her close.
She allowed it, though she felt furious, confused, even betrayed. But when he touched her, she relented, and when he cupped her cheek, her thoughts and feelings collided. Her need to be in his arms won out.
“You wanted a fairy bride, and so you let me go on the Fey. And then you asked me to marry you.”
“I did, and I would again,” he said low. “I owed it to you by the end of that evening, if you recall.”
“I thought that was only out of obligation. But you had another reason,” she hissed. “Your inheritance! How convenient for you that I came by!”
“I wanted to marry you.” She began to walk away, but he took her shoulders and set her behind the door again. “I still do.”
“Because of my unbelievable but very convenient tie to the fairies.”
“That was part of it. But not all!”
