Page 9 of No One's Bride
Cold shivers?
So, she hadn’t felt a sudden burst of warmth when they touched.
Offended, it was Sebastian’s turn to scoff. “Trust me. If I so desired, I could heat your blood. You wouldn’t want to kill me, Miss MacTavish. Within a week, you’d beg me to bed you thoroughly.”
“Thoroughly? Is there any other way to bed a woman?” She narrowed her gaze as if struggling to picture the scene. “Besides, I doubt ye could raise the enthusiasm.”
Had he been willing to prove his point, he might have openly assessed her figure. Her breasts were more than ample, and he had caught the dainty turn of her ankles when she’d taught Helen a Highland reel. Her lips were plump and ripe for the taking. Heaven knows what her hair looked like when it wasn’t scraped back in a severe knot. He might find the notion intriguing if he was of a mind to bed her.
“You’re probably right.” He smiled as he recalled her comment about a male penguin giving his mate a perfect pebble. He’d be damned if he’d scour the foreshore searching for the prettiest stone. “Lust is an important factor when seeking pleasure, and we’re barely civil.”
Why was that?
He had a good relationship with Helen’s other friends.
“Exactly my point,” she quickly agreed. “Talking is as important as kissing when two people decide to indulge their whims.”
“I disagree.” Sebastian wondered how she’d come to that conclusion. His mind turned to Lissette, a widow whose company he kept periodically. She spoke. He never listened. Rarely contributed to the tedious conversation.
“As I’ve nae desire to prove ye wrong, let’s return to the matter of Thomas More’s book. Once I’ve discovered the identity of my secret benefactor, I shall seek permission to swap it for Mrs Ingram’s diary. I cannae see what ye’d want with the musings of a Tudor housewife.”
“Ah, you want to make a trade.”
He should have known she had an ulterior motive.
The niceties were a facade.
“Aye, it seems like the perfect solution.”
They might have agreed terms had the effervescent Mrs Daventry not called to them as she climbed the stairs. “There you are. Which one of you won the rare copy ofUtopia?”
Annoyed at the intrusion, Sebastian grumbled silently to himself. He wished to continue his private conversation but could not be rude. “I shall let Miss MacTavish explain.”
The lady did not mention the grimoire and spoke only of the written bid placed by an anonymous benefactor. “Lord Denton believes my father may be responsible.”
“Who else would part with such an extortionate sum to make a woman happy?” Only someone who cared for her well-being. But then another thought struck him. Did Miss MacTavish have a secret admirer? And if so, why did the idea prove vexing?
“I agree one cannot put a price on love,” Mrs Daventry mused, “but Lord MacTavish believes books are the reason his daughter remains unwed.”
A blush touched Miss MacTavish’s cheeks. “I remain unwed by choice. Men want to own women like they do horses.”
Yes, to keep a tight grip on the reins and ride them at their pleasure, though he doubted Miss MacTavish had considered the latter.
“Not all men.” With tenderness in her gaze, Mrs Daventry glanced at her husband as he mounted the stairs. “Strong men see marriage as a partnership.”
Daventry came to stand beside his wife. “Well, you’ve not murdered each other. That’s a good sign. Though you both appear deflated.”
Sebastian had no choice but to repeat the damn story again. “I can understand a private collector paying over the odds, but I’d like to know who gifted the copy to Miss MacTavish.”
Daventry shrugged. “In the scheme of problems, it’s hardly important. There’ll be other copies for sale.”
No, winning the auction was not as important as catching thieves and murderers, but when a man felt like he’d failed his kin, he’d shed blood to restore the balance.
Miss MacTavish understood. “Unless ye’ve walked in a person’s shoes, ye cannae judge what’s important, sir.”
Daventry held up his hands in mock surrender. “Has the wind changed? It almost sounds like you’re defending Denton.”
Everyone knew Sebastian riled her temper.
