Page 24 of Highland Jewel
“You’re very impressive, you know.”
She certainly knew how to defuse his temper. It was impossible to look at her and stay angry. But that didn’t make the reality of the dangers disappear.
“‘Do you know who I am?’” she said in a gruff voice, mimicking him.
Niall wanted to remain stern, but he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t only the voice, but the way her expression changed. Eyebrows pulled together fiercely, chin jutting out, eyelids closing until the blue eyes were mere slits. She’d been behind him the entire time, and yet the way she imagined his face during the confrontation almost made him laugh out loud.
“‘What do you have to say to my wife?’” she growled.
“Enough.” He gestured behind her. “You’ll terrify this poor fellow.”
Maisie withdrew her hands as the waiter arrived with cakes and tea that he poured out of a worn pot lined with a spiderweb of cracks. When he was gone, she continued to talk.
“I can honestly say I’ve never been more impressed by a man than I was at that moment. Even more than in the Grassmarket that day.” She looked tenderly into his eyes, and he felt his heart melt a little more. “Impressed by you, Lieutenant Campbell… Niall.”
Perhaps she was toying with him, trying to make him forget he was angry. If she was, it was working.
She smiled. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m not blushing,” he grouched. He wasn’t blushing. “If you knew me, you’d recognize that I don’t blush. What you see is the heightened color of justified aggravation.”
“Actually, I’ve known about you for ages. Your sister talks endlessly about your kindness and generosity, toher and to your nieces. And she even read me parts of your letters when you were a soldier.”
He wasn’t comfortable with compliments. What he did for his sister was his responsibility.
“Fiona also says you reserve your shows of temper for strangers.” She poured milk into her tea.
“She’s never seen me with soldiers under my command.”
“She says, with those you care for, you’re actually soft as custard.”
“I’ll need to have a talk with my sister. She’s obviously intent on destroying my reputation.”
As she put down her teaspoon, he reached out and took her hand again. “And what makes you think I care for you?”
She glanced across at him, and a lovely shade of rose crept up her neck into her face. She reclaimed her hand and took a sip of her tea.
He leaned forward and whispered, “Now you’re the one who is blushing.”
“I’m not blushing. I don’t blush. What you see is…” She put the cup down. “The warmth from the tea.”
He did indeed care for her. Too much. She was the only woman who had ever put thoughts of a family of his own in his head. When it came to that kind of stability, Niall’s mind was always on Fiona and her daughters and their future. Maisie was different from anyone he’d ever met. Her stubborn idealism and independence drew him in as much as it frustrated him. She needed saving from the troubles she could get into. And Niall felt perhaps he was the man for it.
They sat there in silence for a few moments, and he watched her sip her tea.
He lowered his voice. “My Love is like a red, redrose, that’s newly sprung in June. My Love is like the melody, that’s sweetly played in tune.”
Niall watched her cheeks turn shades redder. Her jaw softened. Her eyes glistened.
“Now you can’t deny it, lass. Youareblushing.”
“How can a womannotblush when a man recites Robert Burns to her?” She took a deep breath and sat back, her gaze still fixed on her tea. “Is he your favorite poet?”
“Ha! Do you take me as a man who reads poetry? Everyone knows that poem.”
“Liar.” She laughed, and Niall felt all barriers drop away. “I happen to know that you not only read poetry, but you write it too. And you write stories as well.”
He feigned a glare. Not many people knew of his interest in writing. “Let me guess. My flap-tongued sister again.”
