She tried to lift her head from Gavin’s shoulder but fell back, too sapped of strength to move.
“There now.” Gavin slowly eased both of them up.
Her teeth began to chatter.
“I think we’d best get ye warm.” One arm behind her back, supporting her, he used his other to remove his coat. Then he drew it around her shoulders, tucking it close.
“I would have been just fine,” she whispered, teeth still chattering, “without you.”
He gave her a wry look. “Now, now. Careful not tae flatter me. I might begin tae believe ye like me.”
“We cannot have that,” she huffed, though one corner of her mouth edged up.
Smiling, he reached for the oars and then began rowing upriver, straining against the current. He’d been part of the rowing team back at Cambridge, and it felt good to work his muscles, urging them to remember the familiar rhythm.
He glanced at Miss Hughes, sitting across from him. Though her teeth had stopped chattering, she still shivered, and her face was pale. Even now, sopping wet and chilled through, she sat with her back straight, posture perfect.
“Ye’ve been here close to a month now,” he said, hoping to distract her from her miserable state. “Do ye still see your time in Scotland as a punishment?”
She burrowed deeper within the thick folds of his coat. “Now might not be the best time to ask me.”
“Ye never did tell me what ye did tae deserve such a punishment.”
She lifted her chin a notch. “That is because it is none of your business, Mr. McKenzie.”
A smile escaped before he could stop it. “I’m verra good at guessing,” he warned. “Did ye step on a gentleman’s foot while ye danced?” he asked.
She straightened, unable to resist answering. “No.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Did ye perhaps use the wrong title while addressing a person of import?”
She sighed. “Hardly.”
He was enjoying this little game, slowly luring her in. “Did ye cheat at cards?”
Miss Hughes looked heavenward. “Of course not. Now you are just being ridiculous.”
“Did ye kiss a man?”
Her eyes flew wide.
Gavin grinned as he pushed the oars through the water. “Aha. I guessed it. Ye kissed a man.”
“I did not,” she said firmly, lips pressed in a thin line. “He kissed me.”
“Ah.” There was something charming in the way she protested. “Were ye an unwilling participant, then?”
“I...no.No,” Miss Hughes said more forcefully. “I meant only to say he was the one who initiated it.”
“Ah. I see.” He nodded gravely. “’Tis important tae be clear aboot who initiates it.”
Her cheeks turned red, and she looked pointedly away. “If you say so.” She fiddled with the buttons on his coat.
It was the strangest thing, seeing Miss Hughes in something of his. It almost felt like a statement of possession, of claiming. Which was absurd. He’d sooner claim a cantankerous donkey than such a headstrong young woman.
He returned his attention to the river, to his rowing. The boat’s sounds made a steady rhythm—the creak of wood as he pushed and pulled the loom, the splash of the oar blades as they cut through the water. He eased off as they approached the bank, the bottom of the boat scraping against the shallows.
Gavin released the oars and stepped over the side, boots splashing through the water. He pulled the front of the boat up to the bank, then held out a hand to help Miss Hughes. “My horse, Baird, is waiting just there. I can take ye home—if yedon’t mind sharing a horse. Ye need tae get out of your wet things.”
