Page 62 of No One's Bride
“Miss MacTavish. May I be the first to congratulate you on your good fortune?” Her assessing gaze moved to Ailsa’s vibrant red hair, her nose wrinkling in a sly sneer. “It takes a certain woman to drag a man like Lord Denton to the altar. Who knew he had a fondness for Celts?”
Miss MacTavish stiffened at the veiled slur. “I knew.” She lowered her voice as if to impart a secret. “He can barely keep his hands to himself, and so we mean to marry quickly.”
The lady firmed her jaw and practically growled. “The Scots are known for their wild ways. A man might find that appealing in the short term. But such feelings soon wane.”
“’Tis unlikely. Scotswomen have a fire in their blood, a fire a man cannae resist. The same fire makes us fine warriors, equips us to slay our enemies.” Miss MacTavish offered a serene smile. “In short, dinnae insult a Scot unless ye want to get burned.”
The lady’s lips quivered. “I—I’m just surprised.”
“Surprised a confirmed bachelor would marry?”
“Surprised at his choice.”
Compelled to defend his decision, Sebastian said, “Kindness, modesty and a passionate spirit are important to a man.” He slipped his arm around Ailsa’s waist. At no point had he encouraged Miss De Luca. But he knew she had set her sights high and craved a title. “Miss MacTavish has those qualities in abundance.”
He drew Ailsa away, but like a naughty imp, she turned to Miss De Luca and whispered, “And when we kiss, the whole world tilts on its axis. A love like that is sure to last a lifetime.”
Yes, the kiss had left his head spinning.
Rocked him to his core.
“Did you enjoy rubbing salt into the wound?” he said, escorting Ailsa into the hall to retrieve her cloak.
“The lady struck the first blow. But she needed to know her weapon is nae match for a claymore.” Her amusement died. “Though it will be embarrassing when I explain I cannae marry ye because ye’re as gruff as a bear.”
Standing in the queue for the cloakroom, he drew his fingers over her hip in a teasing circle. “And yet I’ve not been so gruff lately.”
She inhaled sharply. “Aye, ’tis almost a shame to break the spell.”
The churning in his gut returned. His chest grew tight. The need to cling on to something—that in all likelihood was a grievous deception—sent his pulse soaring.
Don’t leave me.
Don’t leave me to face the world alone.
The confounding words burst into his mind to threaten a bachelor’s resolve. This was precisely why he avoided these entanglements, why he kept his emotions locked in an impenetrable fortress deep in a fathomless sea.
But this was different.
Ailsa MacTavish treated him like a strong, virile man, not a pompous viscount or failing brother. In her company, he did not feel bound by traditions, rules and laws. He felt free.
“I should fetch Helen and have her play escort.” He was in danger of ruining the only woman he wanted to protect. What if she felt nothing for him tomorrow and was forced to spend a lifetime in his bed? It would be a living hell. “We shouldn’t be seen together outside, not without a chaperone.”
Being desperate for an excuse to leave the ball early, and keen to ask the question burning on everyone’s lips, Nicholas and Helen jumped at the chance to ferry them home.
On the pretence of informing the ever-opinionated Gibbs to return to Grosvenor Street, Sebastian covered the length of Mortimer Street on foot, scouring every dark recess for the blackguard from the auction.
What business would he have spying on Lady Winfield’s abode?
Unless the devil wished to follow Ailsa in the hope she might lead him to the grimoire. But only those who worked at the auction house knew of the delivery man’s mistake.
He explained his position to Gibbs and briefly described the rogue in question. “Keep your eyes peeled. There’s every chance he’s following us. Trying to determine what we’ve done with the book.”
“Happen it’s better ifItake you home, milord. You can identify this villain, whereas I might accost the wrong man.”
Good grief! Must Gibbs disagree with every order? “I must protect Miss MacTavish, and we cannot be seen climbing into this carriage together.”
“Perhaps the lady can ride home with your sister, milord. And we can scour the streets and see if we can find this fellow.”
