Kimberly smiled halfheartedly as Megan extinguished the light. She had wanted to be alone. She was in no mood for conversation, but wasn’t going to be rude to the duchess, who had been nothing but kind to her.
So even though she’d avoided answering the question herself, she asked the duchess, “What brings you here this time of night?”
Megan’s chuckle was somewhat wicked. “I’ve come for a rose. My Devlin’s been gloating about something all day that has annoyed me no end. He needs a reminder of what to expect if he doesn’t stop. I thought a nice long-stemmed rose might get the message to him rather quickly, placed on his pillow tonight—without the rose petals, of course.”
Kimberly’s laugh was spontaneous; she couldn’t help herself, and it felt really good to release it, after the horrid day. Trust the duchess to think of something so cleverly subtle. A stem of thorns on her husband’s pillow. Yes, he was bound to figure out exactly what that implied—and have a good laugh over it himself.
Kimberly grinned now. “Well, let’s hope he notices the thorns before he lays his head down.”
“Oh, I’ll make sure of that. Now, care to help me find the perfect rose?”
Kimberly nodded, and they moved down the aisle together to a bed of dark red roses in varying stages of bloom. And then nonchalantly, as she bent to sniff one of the flowers, Megan said, “You know, I’m glad you’re here, actually. I’ve been meaning to ask you, but just haven’t managed to find you alone recently, if you’ve considered the Scot?”
“Considered him?”
“For matrimony.”
“No.”
Kimberly’s answer came so quickly, Megan blinked in surprise. “No? But he’s such a handsome devil and so charming, why, he’d make a splendid husband. And he’s looking for a wife himself, don’t you know.”
“Yes, he has many good points,”and just as many bad ones, Kimberly added to herself. “But he won’t do for me.”
Megan scoffed at that. “Of course he would—why don’t you think so?”
Kimberly could have said, “Because he’s in love with you,” but that would have unnecessarily embarrassed them both, so she said instead, “I suppose I should have told you that my father would never approve of a Scotsman.”
“You’re joking?” Megan said, her expression indicating surprise bordering on shock.
“No, regrettably it’s true,” Kimberly replied reluctantly, wishing this subject had not come up. “He’s quite prejudiced against them.”
Megan frowned. “I suppose it’s because you live so close to the border? All that violent history there, border raids and all that? Actually, now that you’ve mentioned it, I know several families who feel that way. Even though hostilities of that sort have mostly ceased in this generation, the animosity has still been inherited—”
“Not in this case,” Kimberly cut in. “With my father, it’s a personal matter that he’s, unfortunately, let encompass all Scots.”
“Personal?” Megan pounced on that. “Then you don’t share his views?”
“No, I have very few views in common with my father, and certainly not his narrow-minded prejudices.”
The duchess sighed in relief. “Well, that’s nice to know. But it’s—ah, absolutely necessary that he approve of the man you marry?”
“If I want to avoid a scandal.”
Megan gasped. “You don’t mean he would actually disown you?”
“Most definitely, and without a qualm.”
The duchess was back to frowning. “That’s—rather hardhearted if you ask me.”
“Yes, quite. But I did tell you he’s something of a tyrant. Quite unbending and set in his ways.”
“Well, I am quite put out about this, I must say—for your sake, that is. I just can’t imagine—what if you fell madly in love with a Scot? Not MacGregor, of course,” Megan quickly added, “but some other Scotsman you might chance to meet, and he adored you as well. For you to never know the kind of happiness that I do—”
“Ah, but that’s different.”
“It is?”
“Certainly. It’s not as if I have any strong desire to please my father, any more than he’s ever had any desire a’tall to please me. No, if something like that occurred, I believe I’d face the scandal.”
