Stunning.
In every sense of the word.
The sheer masculinity of him pummeled her senses. His mind blinded hers with its keen insights. His calm heart settled her agitated nerves.
“Ye seem tae be thinking about this a wee bit too hard.” Malcolm’s eyes narrowed.
Viola laughed at that. A snorting guffaw of sound that she instantly stifled behind a hand, which somehow made it worse.
“Again, ye aren’t making a case for me here,” he continued.
“Oh! I’m trying to find words that aren’t entirely gauche, you wretch.” She gave a helpless laugh, feeling her cheeks warm. “Why do I want to kiss you? Well, for all the obvious reasons, I suppose. You are an interesting, charming, and intelligent gentleman, and I admit to finding you unbearably . . .”—heavens, this blush would be the end of her—“. . . attractive.”
There.
Fortunately, Malcolm didn’t look as horror-stricken as he had earlier, in the moment of their almost kiss.
Thatlook . . .
It had nearly curdled her stomach.
“Gentleman,” he said, lingering on the word. As ifthatwere the most significant thing she had said. “Many would argue against ye applying that label tae myself.”
Viola let out an exasperated puff of air. “Youarea gentleman, Malcolm.”
“Nae, I’m not. Not by any measurable standard.”
“I disagree. You are kind, gentle, and sensitive to the needs of those around you. Noble things that the lofty Duke of Kendall is not, no matter his vaunted pedigree.”
“But . . . doesnae it bother ye? The difference in our stations?”
“I’ve spent considerable time with your brother these past weeks. I don’t see why you are so dissimilar.”
Malcolm snorted at that. “Ye know that tae be stretching the truth a wee bit, lass. Yes, Ethan and I are brothers. But he is my uncle’s heir and has been raised tae the life of a gentleman. We are anything but the same, blood notwithstanding.”
“I disagree!”
This darling man was going to send her mad, talking round and round. All Viola wanted was to be welcomed back into the circle of his arms, pressed once more into the heat of his chest.
“You mentioned that Aileen was of a lower social station than you. Did that ever give you pause when you courted her?” she continued.
“O’course not. I never thought about it. She was my equal in every way.”
“Well, there you are.”
“Aye, but Aileen sensed the difference. I only see it now, at a distance, how she always felt less-than.”
Oh.
“And do you feel . . . less than?” Viola had to ask.
Malcolm stared at her for one breath. Two.
And then looked away.
Viola’s spirits sank.
“Your grandfather was a viscount,” he said, as ifthatwere his answer to her question. “Your uncle, Lord Mossley,isa viscount.”
