Vale put an arm around the younger man’s shoulders. “You don’t want to take a side. I understand.”
“Good, because—”
“And yet, you’ve already chosen where you stand. The point where you had a choice was fifty thousand pounds ago. You owe me your sister. What, then, is the barbarian’s plan?” He took half a step back. “Wait. Allow me to guess. He intends to win your debt back from me at the table.”
Matthew blinked. “How—”
“You’ve told me several times that he’s a wagerer. You’ve carried some impressive tales, and yet you’re the only one who seems to know them. These stories, therefore, came from either his admiring younger sister or from the man himself, neither of which source overly impresses me. So. Am I to be surprised, or does he want me to know I’m about to be challenged?”
“I…” His shoulders slumped. “He said I should tell you that he’s coming for you.”
“Ah, Matthew, don’t look so dejected. You’ve done as he asked, and you’ve more or less done as I asked. Now. Come see my new hunter, and then you may purchase me luncheon at Boodle’s. I am quite looking forward to dinner with your family tomorrow evening.”
Hopefully Aden MacTaggert would come after himsoon; he could be exceedingly patient, of course, but he’d never owned a Highlander before, much less destroyed one. He did look forward to it.
“Miss Harris,” Billings said, stepping into the morning room, “I thought you might wish to know that Mr. MacTaggert is in the kitchen.”
Miranda put a hole through the middle of her embroidery. Well, the red blooming rose would now have to sport a strategically placed thorn. The electricity shooting through her at the very sound of the word “MacTaggert” surprised her a little; after all, she’d been hearing it in connection with Eloise MacTaggert for months. Setting aside her hoop, she stood.
Then the rest of what the butler had said sank in. “Why is Aden MacTaggert in our kitchen?”
“Perhaps he’s emptied the Oswell House pantry,” Millie suggested, putting aside her own mending, “and he’s come here looking for food.”
“He’s brought us a treat,” Billings returned with an uncharacteristic smile, then cleared his throat and bowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I still have some preparations for dinner this evening.”
With that sentence, the cold claws that had been digging at Miranda tightened their grip again. Her mother, at least, had chatted all during breakfast about how delighted she was to finally have an opportunity to exchange more than a sentence or two with Captain Vale.
Miranda managed a nod, and then, barely, to keep from running down the hallway to the servants’ quarters and the kitchen. In the narrow corridor just outside, she stopped at the sound of Aden’s deep-voiced brogue and took a breath, her tense shoulders lowering again. She wasn’t alone in this. She had an ally. A partner.
She knew his plans now, or at least the part he’d riskedtelling Matthew yesterday, but he’d dressed and slipped out the window before she could tell him just how little she liked the idea of yet another man wagering his future against the formidable skills of Captain Vale. And she knew—sheknew—that he hadn’t told her everything.
“I reckon if I’d meant these only for the shiny folk tonight, I’d nae have brought three baskets, lass,” he drawled, and Mrs. Landry, their longtime cook, giggled in return.
That very unlikely sound all in itself would have been enough to pique her curiosity. Squaring her shoulders, she moved into the middle of the hallway and then stepped into the kitchen. The cook continued tittering over three large baskets of what had to be hothouse strawberries, since the weather had been too cloudy and cool for anything but scrawny, pale berries in the house garden. These were bright red and plump and juicy looking—and almost as mouthwatering as the tall, lean man presently standing beside the old, scarred kitchen table.
At that moment he looked up and his gaze met hers. He took half a step in her direction before he smoothly altered course and continued with his conversation about wild berries in Scotland. That motion, though—it was the first time she’d seen him make a misstep in… well, in anything. And it had been in reaction to her.Delicious.
“Did I hear that you’ve brought us strawberries, Aden?” she said, sweeping into the room amid bows and curtsies from the kitchen staff and half the house staff. “My goodness! I doubt there’s another strawberry to be found in all of London today!”
“He said he wanted to be sure he had enough for your dinner and for the entire household, miss,” Meg, the cook’s young assistant, chirped. Immediately she flushed bright red and ducked behind Mrs. Landry’s sizable shoulders.
“I should think he accomplished that,” Miranda agreed. “In fact, I vote that we all have one immediately.” With a grin she picked up a berry, noting that everyone else crowded into the room dove in after her, and took a big, juicy bite.Heaven.
“God’s sake, lass,” Aden murmured, somehow directly in front of her, “ye make me wish to be a strawberry.”
The place between her legs, the place where he’d spent a great deal of time night before last, went damp. “I found another book about London life for you,” she said aloud. “Come along and I’ll fetch it for you, as long as you’re here.” Miranda glanced over her shoulder at Millie, to see the maid looking longingly at the strawberries. “Millie, stay here and eat strawberries, for heaven’s sake. It’s just a book. I’ll be back in a trice.”
“If you insist, Miss Miranda.”
“Aye, she does insist,” Aden whispered as he trailed her back into the main part of the house.
She could practically feel his warm, solid presence behind her, tugging at her senses, her emotions, and making her want to reach back and touch him. “Strawberries?” she queried, stepping into the library.
Aden moved past her, searching the nooks and crannies of the long room, before he returned and closed the door behind her. In the same motion he turned, swept her into his arms, and kissed her. “Hello, lass,” he murmured, before claiming her mouth again.
The way he said those two simple words… She’d never heard anything so seductive and full of longing and promises. Miranda wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him as close as she could. Oh, she wanted more, especially now that she knew what that entailed. Her, longing for a man.Thisman. Six months ago—six weeks ago—she would have laughed at the notion.
With a regretful sigh she tore her mouth from his.“Everyone in the house knows you’re courting me. We can’t remain here alone.”
