He looked where she indicated, to see Eloise standing well within earshot and apparently engrossed by a painting of a mad-haired Oswell ancestor. “Ye’ve brought a chaperone, I see.”
“Not my idea,” she whispered as she moved past him.
“I’m protecting her reputation,” Eloise called out. “Mama’s making me. And she’s worried aboutyou, too.”
So Lady Aldriss had her fingers in this pie, as well. “I’m a man grown, Eloise. Some of the things I’ve done would turn yer hair white. It’s too late to be worrying about me, now.”
“But I’m worried, too,” Miranda put in. “Punching a man who certainly deserves it is one thing. I wish I’d been there to see it. But this is risking you being arrested, or worse. I don’t like it.”
“I’m nae baying at the moon, lass. I’ve a plan.”
“Yes, taking Vale’s notes from a bank. You’ve been a bit light on the particulars, partner.”
He cocked his head at her. “That, I have. And that, I am.” Moving her farther into the room and out of his sister’s earshot, he told her, as briefly as he could, how he expected the next few hours to proceed.
She didn’t like it; he could see that in her tight-pressed lips and the nervous tapping of her fingers in his. “Aden,” she said when he’d finished, “I didn’t ask for your help to see you in jail. Or dead.”
“Not even at first, when ye didnae like me?”
“I liked you. Far more than I ever wanted to admit. And don’t change the subject. You’re relying on luck, here.”
He scowled. “I’d nae do such a thing. Ever. If the wind chooses to be at my back, though, I’ll nae complain about it. If ye’ve a better idea, I’ll listen to it.”
“I’m beginning to think simply running away might be the easiest solution.”
Aden wanted to ask if she meant to flee on her own, or if she’d prefer to have a certain Highlander by her side, but she would only accuse him of trying to distract her again, which he would have been doing. “Sitting about and waiting is harder than what I have before me, lass. But I’ll nae fail ye.”
“Just this afternoon you got yourself banned from every proper gentlemen’s club in London to save me, so I have no doubt about your intentions. I don’t want you to be hurt while you’re going about rescuing me. I… I love you, you know.”
He brushed his fingers down her arm, taking her hand in his. “And I love ye, lass. Nae a thing will ever change that. But if ye dunnae feel the same way about me tomorrow morning, I want ye to tell me so. I could stand being wrong, but nae being wrong and nae knowing it.”
She frowned. “Aden, how many t—”
“Nae,” he cut in. “At this moment ye cannae talk to me honestly about forevers, because yers is still being held by someone else. So afterward, when ye’re free, ye can decide if ye’re grateful to me, or feel obliged, or that I’m just… convenient. After.”
Miranda looked at him for a long moment. “They say that sometimes the brightest men are also the stupidest, but have it your way.”
Not many things genuinely surprised Aden, but Miranda did, almost constantly. “Could ye repeat that?”
“You heard me. You’re being honorable, and stupid. I’m slightly insulted, but I understand.”
“Ye’re a sharp-tongued woman, Miranda. I like that about ye.” He adored it about her, but this definitely wasn’t the time for those sorts of declarations.
“Good. I don’t intend to change.”
For Saint Andrew’s sake, he hoped not. Even with Vale after her for weeks, she’d kept her sense of humor. She hadn’t crawled under the covers and decided to hide until all the unpleasantness went away, which is precisely what he would have expected from one of the delicate English lasses his father had gone to great lengths to describe. That definitely was not Miranda Grace Harris. He hoped, after all this was finished, that he would still have the privilege of facing her indignation. “Might I kiss ye, then?” he asked.
Her mouth twitched. “I would be amenable to that.”
Drawing her up against him, he lowered his head to capture her mouth. Sharp-tongued and sweet tasting. What a conundrum she was. And he delighted in it. In her.
“I’ve counted to thirty,” Eloise announced a moment later, “and I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to separate you now.”
That made two lasses, then, who had him twisted about their wee fingers. With a sigh and a last nibble at Miranda’s lower lip, he took half a step backward. “I’d argue with ye,piuthar, but if I caught ye kissing Matthew for a count of thirty, I reckon I’d have to put him in a trunk and ship him off to the Orient.”
“I’m going with you,” Miranda said abruptly.
That stopped him in mid-thought. “Nae. Ye arenae.”
