More than that, I’m ready to kill someone.
Instead, he looked her up and down, sure he’d go mad if anyone dared touch a hair on her head.
But he didn’t want to frighten her, so he just gave her a smile.
“You surely know you’re a bonnie lass,” he said in his deepest burr. “Any Highlander would love to sweep you off to his heather-clad glen. So, aye, my invitation was real, and stands.
“Now that you’ve told me about the danger you’re in, I want more.” He stepped closer and grasped her chin, tipping her face up so he could hold her gaze. “I intend to make certain you remain safe and unharmed. The wilds of Scotland are the best place to keep you that way.”
“Why do I think you meant that?”
“Because I do.”
She blinked. “Oh, my.”
“Dinnae think to change your mind or you’ll force me to toss you o’er my shoulder as my ancestors would’ve done, then ride north with you, no’ stopping until England was far behind us.”
She smiled, her eyes lighting. “What if I’d like that?”
“What, indeed?” He brushed his thumb across her lips. “The truth is, sweeting, I’d like it, too. I might even kiss you, a kiss for each northbound mile.”
“I have never been kissed,” she blurted, color blooming on her cheeks.
“Then I shall have the great honor of introducing you to the pleasure. But first…”
He released her and glanced again at the door. They’d been in here a long time and now that he was making plans, and such earnest ones, he didn’t want anyone to disrupt them.
So he turned back to her, determined to settle the matter.
“Where are you staying, lass? Does your family have a house here?”
“No. We did, a townhouse not too far from here. But my father left it to a distant cousin and he and his wife have dogs and cats. My stepmother doesn’t care for animals, so she will not sleep there.”
She shook her head, as if she found that absurd.
“Do you like animals?” She peered at him most seriously. “If not, we probably wouldn’t get on.”
“Nae worries.” He smiled. “You’ll find all manner of beasties at Lyongate, and they’re all well-loved.” He didn’t mention Conley the lion of old, or the shadow cat that haunted his family. “So where are you lodging?”
“Here.” She gestured to the ceiling. “The Merrivales give us rooms abovestairs whenever we’re in London.”
“Do you feel secure enough here?” He wasn’t so sure. “The Merrivales are no’ so young. Most of their servants appear equally up in years.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, lowering her voice all the same. “We aren’t the only party overnighting here. Every room is occupied. I doubt anything will happen.
“Once I’m back at Cranleigh…” She shivered a bit, rubbing her arms. “I can’t say what will go on there.”
“I can,” he said, her words both spurring him to action and troubling him. “Nothing will happen because if you return there at all, I will go with you.”
“With me?” She clapped a hand to her cheek. “I don’t know what to say. Though…”
He waited, aware that he’d shocked her.
“I can’t just leave,” she said. “I have things I’d need, matters to tend.”
“Of course, you do. You will have ample time to see to your affairs and we’ll fetch anything you require.”
For a moment, he envisioned her directing a stream of servants, all carrying an endless array of luggage and what-not out of Cranleigh Manor, the mountain of her belongings never fitting into or atop his carriage.
