“Yes, I think that there is a way we can both have what we want from life.”
Ian raised an inquiring brow at that, wondering how this woman might possibly believe that she knew what he wanted from life. For a long while, he’d wanted nothing more than to serve in the military. He had wanted to show his commitment to Scotland and his Queen by doing so. Nash had changed all of that when he’d taken Ian from Greece and supplanted him at Dùn Cuilean. No longer was life about what he wanted to do but what hemustdo.
Want and desire had been removed from his grasp. Until Hero Conagham had come into his life.
“I think we should marry.”
With a blink, he gave his attention to his guest once more. Surely, he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Beg your pardon?”
“It’s a wonderful idea, don’t you think? I’d be the marchioness, just as I was always meant to be, and you’d have an accomplished wife to bear your heir.” She concluded her gleeful announcement and waited for his response.
Ian gaped at her. A beautiful lass with strong facial features, wide sensuous mouth, and flashing green eyes. Her vivid red hair suggested strongly at a passionate nature. Her figure was bountiful but trim. She would probably be a pleasing handful in bed. He could see that Daphne was well aware of her physical appeal and of her cachet as a potential bride. Logically, there was no reason for her to doubt that her proposal would be prized and accepted.
However, what he’d told Hero wasn’t mere lip service. He’d known many extremely lovely women in his life. As an officer in the Queen’s army, he’d been the object of adoration for women of every walk of life, from ladies to milkmaids.
Beauty was an alluring quality but it wasn’t everything. It certainly wasn’t enough to bring Ian to his knees in subjugation before even the bonniest lass. For that reason, he’d once resolved never to marry. Never to be bound in a union that would wilt as that beauty faded.
Lately, however, he’d come to realize that there were some things that would not fade. That beyond beauty and desire, there might be something more profound.
His response was polite but firm. “With my apologies, Miss Kennedy, I must decline.”
However, as he suspected, Daphne was a lass who was very certain of herself and her appeal. She would never consider that her proposal might be rejected. A frown appeared and smoothed within seconds before a coy smile replaced it. “But, my lord.” She took another step forward until she was toe-to-toe with him and ran her warm palms up his shirtfront. Eyeing him seductively from beneath her thick lashes as she pressed her breasts against his chest. “A union between us would be most…advantageous.”
Ian caught her wrists and held her away from him, wishing Harry might appear for one of his usually inopportune interruptions, but wasn’t to be so blessed. “I’m sorry, Miss Kennedy, but I’ve given you my answer.”
All pretense fled her face. “Why not?”
“I don’t consider marriage a business arrangement,” he prevaricated as he released her. The reason was true enough but it wasn’t the whole of it. However, there was little more he was willing to admit to Daphne Kennedy.
“This doesn’t have to be a business arrangement.” She ran her hands along his ribcage under his coat. “We could do well together, I think. Give me a chance to prove it to you.”
“Miss Kennedy, I do not anticipate changing my mind on this.” Ian straightened away from the desk and tugged his waistcoat down.
Daphne sighed dramatically. “Men. You don’t ever truly know what you want until you have a chance to think about it. No, don’t argue. I know how you are. I just know when we’ve had a chance to get to know one another better, you’ll change your mind.”
With an even more melodramatic mental sigh, he realized that arguing with someone as determined as she wouldn’t change a thing. She would think as she wanted, despite his words. It wouldn’t take long for her to realize the futility of her ambitions with him. Ian’s only hope was that she would do so quickly, so that he might once again have Dùn Cuilean and Hero all to himself.
He had a seduction to finish. Or a courting.
“Allow me escort you to your room, Miss Kennedy.”
Daphne frowned at the abrupt end to their conversation but just shook her head. “Actually, I think I might join my brother and his grace in the billiards room.”
“As you wish.” He bowed shortly. “Good night.”
Chapter Nineteen
With one hand absently swirling his brandy around the bowl of his snifter while the other propped his chin up, he sat in his armchair and stared moodily up at her portrait above the fireplace…as he had many nights before. Lonelier nights before Hero had come to Cuilean. Even before he’d met her, she’d fascinated him beyond explanation or reason. It wasn’t just a portrait any longer, though it was still a work of exquisite art. Now, he looked at the portrait and saw Hero. And the potential for an extraordinary life. Together.
His future. His past.
Pushing out of the chair, Ian set his glass down on a nearby table and walked for the first time through the shadows, through his dressing room, and into the marchioness’s dressing room on the other side. Though she hadn’t occupied the room in nearly a year, the scent of Hero’s perfume that against all likelihood still lingered in the air. He closed his eyes and inhaled before opening them once more.
Unlike the dark, masculine décor of the lord’s bedchamber and wardrobe, this room was decidedly feminine. The walls were a soft green with crisp white moldings and elaborate dentils. Adam had built in the wardrobes along two sides of the room, the white doors delicately carved with motifs of the hearth and home. A large window dressed with floral curtains dominated the third, overlooking the pleasure gardens to the south of the castle. A fireplace with a complimentary white mantel and a pink marble hearth filled the remaining wall, and beside it in the corner stood a large, oval, white ceramic bathtub, its copper pipes rising from the floor beyond it.
He imagined Hero there. Humming to herself as she bathed. Running a sponge over her legs as she raised them from the soapy water. Slowly, seductively.
Pulse quickening, he continued through the dressing room to the marchioness’s chamber. These were her rooms. He could see her influence in every detail and suddenly wondered if she missed the rooms she’d inhabited for almost a decade.
