After he’d caught her staring at him with such refreshingly innocent candor, he’d wanted to approach her—despite the fact that she no longer stood with her father. But then something had clearly upset her and she’d very determinedly marched over to another young woman.
The strange thing was that no one else had joined them.
“Have you heard anything I’ve just said?” Argyll said, the annoyance in his voice managing to get Duncan’s attention.
“What’s going on over there,” he said, motioning to the two girls.
Argyll lifted a brow. “I thought you didn’t like gossip.”
Duncan gave his cousin a hard stare; he knew very well he despised it.
Archie shook his head, realizing Duncan wouldn’t bite. He shrugged. “Just the latest court scandal. Apparently, one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting went to bed with her candle too close to the bed hangings. The fire was put out quickly, but caused a commotion. When the servants rushed in to put it out, the lady was stark naked.” The young earl paused for dramatic effect. “Unfortunately for her, the man in her bed was not her husband.”
“What does that have to do with them?”
“The dark-haired one is her sister, Lady Catherine Murray.” Archie was watching him carefully—too carefully. “The other is Grant’s daughter. But I suspect you know that.”
Duncan shot him a quelling glance. His eyes narrowed. So the sister was being shunned and Grant’s daughter had decided to stand up for her. Good for her.
“Odd company,” Archie noted. “You’d think Grant’s daughter would want to avoid a connection.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you not remember Grant’s wife? She caused quite the uproar when she ran off with the Englishman.”
Duncan’s eyes hardened. He bit back the rush of anger. He understood too well. “Introduce me,” he said.
His cousin’s gaze leveled on him. “Why?”
Duncan turned to him. “Because you are going to ask Lady Catherine to dance.”
Archie didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “And why would I want to do anything so noble?”
One corner of Duncan’s mouth curled up. “Because that’s just the kind of man you are.” He paused. “You just need me to remind you.”
It was horrible. No one was talking to them. Jeannie could see the toll it was taking on the other girl’s fragile demeanor. She knew from experience that pride was the only thing keeping Lady Catherine from dissolving into a pool of tears.
All the memories of those years following her mother’s scandal rushed back to her in a hot, painful wave. The shame. The embarrassment. The loneliness.
But then she looked up and he was there—Duncan Campbell—with his cousin, one of the most powerful men in Scotland.
She barely heard Argyll’s voice carrying out the necessary introductions. She couldn’t turn her eyes from the man standing before her, nor did she hide the wave of gratitude that flooded out toward him.
This was his doing. She knew it.
Dear Lord, he was even more impressive up close. His coloring—the blue eyes set against black hair—was a breathtaking combination. The clean lines of his handsome face were cut in sharp angles and hard planes. He was younger than she first thought—the air of command and authority was misleading—perhaps only a few years older than herself.
And he was tall, much taller than she realized. She stood six inches over five feet and he was nearly a foot taller, towering over her in a way that was not threatening, but oddly calming. And his shoulders…a strange shiver shuddered through her. Broad and muscular, the black fabric of his doublet stretched over the hard shield of his chest.
He had the build and presence of a warrior—a man who would protect and defend to his last breath.
He took Lady Catherine’s hand and bowed over it, then did the same to hers.
Her breath caught in a startled gasp at the first touch. Heat poured through her and it felt as if every nerve ending in her body had come alive. She didn’t want the moment of connection to end. Their eyes met and she knew he’d sensed her reaction. Perhaps felt it, too. He held her hand an instant too long. For a moment she wondered if he meant to let it go, then reluctantly he released her.
Her heart was beating too fast. Her skin felt flushed and sensitive. Her breath was coming in short gasps. Everything inside her seemed to be tossing about wildly like a boat in a storm.
What was wrong with her?
