Her frown deepened. “Nettie and Tasgall are their names. They are family, Mr. McQuoid.”
Her disapproving governess tone cooled the air between them.
“My apologies,” he said. “I understand that loyalty.” Loyalty and family were the only things he respected. Loyalty ran deep in every McQuoid-Smith household.
He held out his elbow as an olive branch.
He might as well have offered a snake.
“What is that?” she demanded, backing a step.
Arran followed her horror-stricken gaze. “This?” He flexed the limb. “This is an arm, Miss LeBeau. My arm, to be exact.”
Her jade eyes sparked like firelit embers. “I ken what an arm is.”
Ah. She wore her true Scot’s temper like a crown—fiery, bright, illuminating her poppy-red cheeks and the silver flecks in her green eyes.
An untamed spirit like hers would shine just as brightly in the bedcham—
He killed the thought.
Desire dug its sinful claws into him.
He crushed it.
“I am escorting you to dinner, Miss LeBeau,” he snapped, impatient with her—but more impatient with himself. For lusting after a stranger. One purported to be his cousin’s betrothed.
“I’ve already told your family,” she said gently—but firmly. “I do not find myself hungry. As such, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. McQuoid…”
Ice, however, was made for melting.
Arran flashed the rogue’s smile he’d once wielded with ease. “As my sisters insisted, we mustn’t stand on formalities. Arran, if you will.”
“But we are not—”
“The McQuoids and Smiths dine as a family,” he continued over her. “Though I respect your request to dine alone—”
“I do not wish to dine at all,” she added quickly.
He waved that away.
They spoke at the same time.
“I really would like to find Nettie and Tasgall and leave.”
“Alas, the countess has gotten it into her head you’ll join us, and she will accept nothing less, Lucy.”
Her face fell.
Strangely, Arran’s smile came easily for the first time in a lifetime. “Now you’re truly a member of the family.” He offered his elbow again. “You’ve discovered the countess commands all.”
“Very well, Mr.—”
“Arran.”
“Very well, Arran.” Her mouth twisted as if saying it had pained her.
That’ll humble a gent. If she in fact belonged to Campbell, Arran deserved the sting and far worse for his unhealthy fixation on her.
