“And, I admit, Nairn and I are obnoxious in our affections.”
“Never stop! Never let a day go by without being ridiculous in your affections.” A pang of loss pierced her heart as regret over all the wasted moments of her own marriage surfaced.
The butler announced the last of the arriving guests—Lord and Lady Marlowe—they stood to greet them. Clare was grateful for the interruption for it gave her a moment to put aside the maudlin emotion that sometimes dampened her spirits. It happened fewer times and much less often now that two full years had passed, but there were times when the sad weakness made her regrets over past actions and decisions rise, too. Caro’s gentle squeeze of her hand signaled her sister’s support as she walked to greet the new, and last to arrive, guests.
The marquess entered the drawing room and held out his arm to his wife to escort her to the dining room. Another breach of proper protocol for he should have escorted Lady Marlowe, leaving Caro to walk with Lord Marlowe. But, as he’d said many times—his house, his guests, his rules—and no one would argue with his clear determination on it. Whether he’d followed correct etiquette or not, Clare would have found herself on Sir Iain’s arm.
“My lady?” The uninjured corner of his lip curved just a bit as he held out his arm to her. “May I have the honor of seeing you to your seat?”
Clare knew she could not feel his skin on hers, but even with the intervening layers of her glove and the thick, well-made sleeve of his coat, the heat of his body warmed her. As they walked into the dining room and reached the table, he stopped a bit abruptly as the others found their places. A mix of surprise and confusion filled his dark gaze. Glancing at the table she understood.
“Ah, you wonder over the seating arrangements?”
“Should they not be apart?” he said in a lowered voice as he leaned closer to her. “Shouldn’t they?”
A few words but they were filled with the same confusion and surprise that she’d seen in his eyes. As someone only recently granted a knighthood and the movement in the higher levels of society, he clearly knew that the host and hostess should sit at opposite ends of the table. Somehow, this less than complete confident moment made him seem more human. As though he was out of place and unfamiliar with being less than perfectly in control.
“Lord and Lady Nairn are quite known for their unconventional and unseemly displays of affection. This is what comes of it,” she said. If her words sounded sarcastic, she had not meant it that way.
A sound halfway between a huff and a breath was his only response as he led her to the chairs indicated by the butler. Though she suspected he would be seated next to her, he was instead across from her, at her sister’s right, as she sat at Nairn’s left. And not even the tall candelabras blocked their view of each other across the finely set table.
A thrum of anticipation filled her as the meal commenced both from the intimacy of the gathering to the presence of Sir Iain. In this setting, they did not follow the prescribed process of speaking only to the guest on their left and then switching to the other when the hostess did. Conversation flowed smoothly around the table, on a variety of topics and news of the day. A polite society dinner it was not and Clare was glad of it.
Or it did until her sister decided to take it in hand and interfere as only Caroline Margaret Napier Murray, the Marchioness of Nairn, could.
“Sir Iain, I would love to hear how you and Lady Clare met?”
Chapter Four
When they werejust lasses and growing up together, there had been times when she and Caro fought. Not just with words or insults, but also with hands and a fist once or twice. For years now, feeling the responsibility to be a lady and to behave as one, she had not engaged in such behavior.
For the first time in years, she wanted to slug her beloved sister.
“Lady Nairn! Please.” Clare could not help the tinge of discomfort in her tone.
“Lady Clare,” Sir Iain said, his voice deeper than usual as though he was going to chastise her. “If the marchioness wants to hear it, how can a simple knight refuse her request?”
A shiver tracked down her spine as he met her gaze with his own and only his left eyebrow and the left corner of his mouth lifted the tiniest of bits. Was he teasing her? Where did this charming, flirting version of the angry, overbearing, insulting man who’d stormed her office come from? Her true dilemma was how could she continue to protest and not look unhospitable in her sister’s home? A tilt of her head signaled her acquiescence.
“As Lord Nairn knows I am expanding my facilities near the waterfront in Leith and buying unused warehouses and the like,” he said, glancing at Caro’s husband before turning his attention to Caro herself. “Lady Nairn, I am not known to be a patient man when it comes to my businesses and I fear I was not the day I met Lady Clare.”
“That sounds interesting,” Caro said. Clare would have to wait to let her sister know exactly what she thought of Caro’s clear and plain and unseemly curiosity about a matter better left private. But when Sir Iain laughed at her sister’s comment, Clare lost her breath.
The laugh came from the depths of his being and changed his entire countenance and bearing. She’d seen overbearing. She’d witnessed charming. But this laugh, it was something so authentic and real that Clare knew she was seeing a part of this enigmatic man that few saw. Her blood heated at the sound of it. It was the sound of pure passion and her body ached at both the memory of such feelings and their absence in so long.
“Forgive me, Lady Clare,” he said with a nod. “I laugh at my own behavior and not yours that day.”
“Which was what, Sir Iain?” Caro asked with the focused attention of a dog with a juicy bone. Truly, there was nothing to be discovered but for an embarrassing moment or two of mistaken identity. He waited as the footmen removed the serving plates and replaced them with the next dishes and she could see Caro’s interest grow in those moments.
“I have been trying for months and months to get an answer about my offer for two properties previously owned by the late Mr. Logan. I’d been stymied in another business arrangement and let my impatience overrule my usual method of handling such matters.”
What or who else had said no to this man? She suspected that he was not accustomed to refusal.
“Over my man of business and my secretaries’ recommendations, I discovered the location of the new owner and went there to... negotiate.” He winked at her then.
He winked at her.
That small expression made her insides feel like warm treacle. Clare waited on the rest of his explanation and description of the chaos that ensued in their tumultuous first encounter.
