“Why are you scowling at the maid?” Alec asked.
Sometimes Edie wondered if he had any idea of his effect on women. “I’m not scowling at her. I’m scowling at you.”
“I don’t see why, since I just apologized.”
“You most certainly did not.”
“If I didn’t, it was because I have no intention of groveling in the hallway in front of half the staff,” he said, taking her arm. “We need some privacy to talk properly.”
When he started to tow her in the direction of her room, she raised a protest. “First, you needn’t manhandle me. Second, if you think I’m going to allow you to haul me off to some secluded corner for a tête-à-tête, you must be mad. I have no desire to court scandal with you, Captain Gilbride.”
He propelled her past her room and down a corridor that seemed to lead to another wing. “That’s rich, coming from you. As far as I can tell, scandal is your middle name.”
Edie wrenched her arm away, pivoted on her heel, and started to stalk back to her room. He let out a rather salty curse and came after her.
“Edie, please stop.”
She almost stumbled to hear him use her nickname, but she forced herself to ignore him. A moment later a large hand clamped down on her shoulder, bringing her to a halt.
Fuming, she stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him. She was afraid he might see how deeply his words had wounded her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Perhaps because you’re an idiot?” she replied in a tight voice.
Edie let him gently turn her to face him. She had to steel herself against the wry, charming smile that curled up the corners of his strong mouth. When he smiled like that, she could practically feel her heart drop out of her chest and commence flopping around at his feet.
“I believe the correct term is great Scottish oaf, ” he said. “And I certainly am one for saying something so foolish and undeserved. Please accept my apology.” His expression seemed utterly sincere.
Edie sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not entirely undeserved. I accept your apology, but you still owe me another.”
“I do, but I’d still like to speak with you privately. What I have to tell you is of a rather delicate nature.”
That set her heart pounding again, but she forced herself to be sensible. “I meant what I said about not wanting to cause a scandal. I can’t afford to do that sort of thing again.”
“I have no intention of putting you in any sort of compromising or indelicate position.” Alec glanced out one of the windows that lined the side of the corridor. “I suppose we could go for a walk around the grounds, but it looks like there’ll be rain within the next few minutes.”
Edie stared wistfully at the view, an extensive garden of hedges and flowerbeds at the base of a large terrace that was edged by a lawn that eventually gave way to rolling glens. She could just make out a stream flashing in the distance. Beyond that, dark peaks rose up to a glowering sky. “Oh, drat. I was so hoping to get a ride in this morning. It was completely sunny only a half hour ago.”
“Welcome to the Highlands. If you wait another half hour, it’ll likely start snowing.”
She couldn’t help laughing at the annoyed tone to his voice. “How ever does one plan for outdoor excursions in Scotland?”
“One can’t,” he said, taking her arm again. “You simply dress warmly and hope you bloody well don’t get soaked or freeze to death.” He started to walk her down the corridor.
“Now where are you going?”
“Don’t worry. If anyone sees us, we can tell them I’m taking you on that tour I promised you.”
“I thought that was mostly a ruse to annoy your relatives. One I’d say succeeded quite admirably.”
He flashed her a grin. “It did, didn’t it? But you’re wrong to think that I don’t want to spend time with you, Edie. I very much do.”
The breathless sensation that so often overcame her while in his company returned. “You’re very free with my given name, all of the sudden. Don’t you think you’re being a trifle impertinent?”
He grinned down at her. “Oh, I do hope so.”
Edie had some hopes of her own, but she knew it best not to express them—or even think of them.
While he led her through what seemed an endless number of corridors, he talked about the castle’s architecture and its ancient history. She found herself becoming fascinated.
Blairgal Castle was enormous, with three imposing towers, several wings, and a center block that comprised the most modern part of the house. Amazingly enough, the entire structure seemed to be both in use and well maintained, which spoke to the wealth and management of the estate and title. Edie had never been impressed with either grandiosity or luxury, but she was impressed with Blairgal. Its history and beauty had been lovingly preserved, and she could certainly understand the earl’s pride in the Riddick family’s ancestral home.
Even more interesting was Alec’s deep knowledge of Blairgal’s history and his reluctant pride. He was pointing out a particularly fine example of a feudal carving at the top of one tower’s staircase when she interrupted him.
“Why did you run away?” she asked. “Did you hate it so much back then?”
He glanced at her, clearly startled. “I never hated it.”
She frowned. “Then why run? And why stay away for ten years?” She suspected the basics, of course, but she wanted to hear his reasoning.
He stared up at the old carving, as if the answer to her question was contained in the smooth, polished stone. Then he gave a slight shrug and flashed another of his rogue’s smiles.
“Don’t you think it’s time you called me Alasdair? Or Alec? After all, as your mamma has pointed out on more than one occasion, we’re practically family.”
“We’re nothing of the sort, and you know it. Now, stop avoiding my question.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet in an oh-so-masculine stance. “I’ll tell you the entire story if you call me Alasdair.”
“There’s no point in trying to be masterful with me,” she said. “It won’t work.” That probably wasn’t true, but there was no need for her to acknowledge it.
He casually took a step closer. She had to resist the impulse to step back.
“Really?” he asked. It was amazing what he managed to suggest with that one simple word.
“Yes, really.”
When he took another step forward, Edie did move back. And when the satisfaction in his gaze flared into something darker—and hotter—she flapped a hand at him.
“Oh, all right, you beast,” she said. “I’ll call you Alec, but only when we’re by ourselves.”
He rewarded her with a smile that seemed to light up the gloomy corners of both the corridor and her heart.
“And I do hope we’ll be spending quite a bit of time alone together,” he said.
She shook her head. “You are such a wretched flirt.”
“Me?” He adopted a wounded look. “I’m the soul of rectitude.”
“The soul of ridiculousness, perhaps.”
Laughing, he directed her down the spiral stone staircase, keeping a firm hand on her arm as he carefully guided her down the narrow steps. His touch felt protective—even possessive—and Edie had to wrestle down an instinctive rush of pleasure.
They came out in a long, tight passage that she suspected was in the oldest part of the castle. If she stood in the center, she could have flattened her hands against both walls. And yet almost every square inch of those walls was covered with antique tapestries and gilt-framed portraits that were clearly centuries old. Cool gray stone lay under her feet, and the carved wooden ceiling was crosshatched with beams that had turned smooth and dark with age. Deep window alcoves ran along one side, the space between them covered with more huge tapestries.
Edie felt like she’d stepped back in time to feudal Scotland.
Carefully, she touch
ed one of the tapestries, which depicted a scene of battle. Despite the obvious age of the piece, the colors were still vibrant and the handiwork exceptional.
“What a splendid corridor,” she said. “It’s like living history.”
“It connects the two oldest towers. The tapestries are part of a set that were woven here at Blairgal and are considered some of the family’s greatest treasures.”
“I can see why your grandfather is so proud of the place,” she said, smiling up at him.
“You must be sure to tell him how wonderful it is, repeatedly. And ask him as many questions about its history as you can.”
“Yes, I had deduced that was the best way past his crusty exterior.”
He let out a quiet sigh. “He wasn’t always that way. Well, yes he was, but he’s gotten worse. I think he’s in a lot of pain.”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He waved her to a window alcove that was fitted with a snug padded bench. It overlooked an inner courtyard with carved stone benches, several large urns and pots for flowers, and a pretty ornamental pond. It would be a lovely retreat in the summer.
Edie sat and arranged her skirts, then looked up at him. He towered over her, but his attention wasn’t on her. Rather, he stared out the window. She fancied that he didn’t see the courtyard as it appeared now, but as how it had appeared long ago, perhaps when he was a child.
“My mother loved to sit in that courtyard, by all accounts,” he said. “She would spread a blanket on the grass on warm summer days and read for hours.”
“Do you remember her?” Edie asked softly.
His focus pulled back to her. “Not really. I was only two when she died of a fever. That’s when my grandfather truly started to change, my father said. He was devastated by her death.”
“Of course, she was his only child,” she said. “But at least he had you.”
That knocked the somber look off his face. “Yes, a little hellion. Apparently, I was getting into trouble from the moment I took my first steps.”
“That clearly hasn’t changed.”
He propped a shoulder against one wall of the alcove, getting comfortable. He was so ridiculously handsome—and so close to her—that it took all her will not to give him sheep eyes like a foolish girl.
“I’d ask you to sit,” Edie said, “but this bench is too small.”
“I’m willing to try squeezing in,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in a silly fashion.
“That would be most improper.” She glanced around his big body down the hall. “I take it this is your solution for privacy while maintaining the proprieties.”
He nodded. “This hall is normally deserted at any given time of the day, but it’s still quite public. We should be fine here if anyone stumbles upon us.”
“Very well,” Edie said. She pinned a stern expression on her face. “You may commence with the apology.”
He smiled. “I’ve forgotten what I was supposed to be apologizing about.”
“Then let me remind you,” she said tartly. “You were making a concerted effort to flirt with me in front of your betrothed. I presume the purpose was to get some sort of rise out of her or to make her jealous, for reasons I haven’t figured out yet.”
Alec jerked himself up straight. “Bloody hell. It wasn’t to make her jealous, I can tell you that,” he said, his brogue coming out.
“Then perhaps you can enlighten me as to what you were doing, because I have the feeling you were using me to do it. I must say that I don’t very much appreciate that fact, Captain Gilbride.”
“I thought you were going to call me Alec.”
“I am not in the mood for personal intimacies. I’m quite irritated with you.”
And hurt. He’d all but admitted that he was using her.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Edie. I didn’t think you’d mind engaging in a mild flirtation with me. After all, you have legions of suitors in London, and you never seemed to mind keeping all of them dangling after you.”
She stared up at him. “You did not just say that.”
“Why? What did I say?” he asked, looking puzzled.
She had to bite back an oath. God save her from thickheaded Scotsmen. “You just accused me of being a flirt.”
He looked startled. “No, I didn’t. I implied that you like to flirt. There’s a difference, you know.”
She eyed him in disbelief. “I suppose I should ask you to explain that difference, but you would just confuse us both. What I really want to know is why you were flirting with me in the first place, and doing it in such an outrageous fashion in front of your entire family and your betrothed. And,” she said, starting to get wound up again, “did you really think I was going to flirt back with you in those circumstances?”
He winced slightly. “I suppose I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”
She shook her head in disgust. “And you call yourself a spy. I can only imagine the fixes you got yourself into if last night is any indication of your talents.”
“I never had to deal with a fiancée on any of my missions,” he said. “Only Frenchmen trying to kill me.”
“I suspect that almost everyone at the table wanted to kill you last night.” Edie paused, remembering the different reactions she’d seen. “Except for Miss Haddon. She didn’t seem to mind at all.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting quietly while she thought it through. And piece by piece it was finally becoming clear. “Oh, good God,” Edie exclaimed. “You’re trying to make her angry enough to break off your engagement, is that it?”
He smiled at her, as if she’d just done something splendid. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to spell it out for you. It is rather an awkward situation, you must admit.”
“Awkward, indelicate, and insanely stupid,” she said, coming to her feet.
Edie was so furious she could barely see straight. She was tempted to box his ears, but she’d probably damage her hand on his thick skull. She settled for jabbing her finger at his chest instead.
“How dare you manipulate me like that?” she raged. “And how dare you treat your fiancée in so shabby a fashion? What in God’s name must she think of me? Of all the stupid . . .”
She tried to push past him, blinking her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. After everything she’d gone through, this was the final humiliation. And the fact that it had come from him, the only man for whom she’d ever developed real feelings, made her want to hide in the nearest dark corner.
He stepped in front of her. She tried to slip past him, but he was just too blasted big. Clenching her teeth, she refused to look at him as she tried to will away the tears.
“Edie, let me explain,” he said. “I swear it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
His hands came up to her shoulders. Then one slipped behind, gently cradling her neck. The other moved to her chin, nudging it up and forcing her to look at him. His handsome face, looking as unhappy as she felt, swam at the edges, blurred by tears.
“Ah, lass,” he said in a low rumble. “Please don’t cry. You’ll kill me if you cry.” When his fingers stroked along the edge of her jaw, it made her shiver.
“I’d like to kill you,” she whispered. Her throat was thick and tight. “Alec, how could you?”
His mouth pulled taut and a muscle twitched in his hard jaw, as if he were clenching his teeth. The hand at the back of her neck moved up, his fingers digging through her hair in a gentle grip. She couldn’t escape if she tried.
And when his gaze went dark and smoky, she didn’t want to.
“Because,” he rasped, “I’m a great Scottish oaf.”
And then his mouth came down on hers in a kiss that knocked her heart straight into her ribs.
Chapter Fourteen
For a few horrible seconds, the most exasperating woman Alec had ever known stood as rigid as a post in his arms, her lips firmly closed against him and his clumsy attempts at apology. He was no doubt making things w
orse by kissing her but couldn’t seem to help himself. The pain on Edie’s sweet face and the shine of tears behind her spectacles had ripped through his heart like a mortar shell. She’d started a riot in a society ballroom and still come out strong, for Christ’s sake, and yet he’d managed to wound her. Those tears had told him just how much.
Oaf was too kind a word, for him.
He was half-expecting a knee to the bollocks when she breathed out a funny little whimper that vibrated softly against his lips. Hands that had been balled into fists and pushing against his chest suddenly relaxed. Her fingers opened, trembling as they grasped the fabric of his coat.
And, miracle of miracles, her mouth finally softened. A moment later, she was kissing him back with an eagerness that almost took him out at the knees.
He cradled her head, his fingers tunneling through her silky hair as he adjusted the fit. His other hand slid to her waist, holding her gently against him as he began to explore the lush promise of her mouth. Teasing, he slicked his tongue across her lips, tasting honey and cinnamon, an intoxicating, perfect mix. Every nerve and muscle in his body silently urged him forward, straining to further plumb her luscious depths.
When Edie hesitated for a fraction of a second, Alec’s heart stuttered with dismay. But then her hands slipped up to his shoulders and she slowly parted her lips. He surged in, taking too much too fast, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she tangled her tongue with his, going up on her tiptoes to meet him.
He was finally getting her measure. Edie had enough charm and confidence to launch a thousand ships. But innocence lurked behind that bold façade, as did an entirely unexpected vulnerability. Her kiss was eager, open, and without artifice. It was all Edie, wild and sweet, giving as good as she got with a heady promise of more to come.
He had every intention of taking her all the way down that road.
She let out an engaging little moan and snuggled closer, brushing her full breasts against his waistcoat. Sensation bolted through him, driving what felt like every ounce of blood down to his cock. Instinctively, he slipped his hand to her delightfully round bottom—good God, the woman was a lovely handful—and nudged her into him, flush against his erection. Then he picked her up and took a step forward, trapping her between his body and the passage wall.
How to Marry a Royal Highlander Page 17