“A deliciouswhat?”
He’d taken a few steps away from the door toward another narrow passage to their left, but now he stopped and turned to face her. “Cranachan. Don’t tell me you’ve never had cranachan?”
“I’ve never even heard of it.” It was too dark for Juliana to make out the expression on his face, but she heard the outrage in his voice, and her grin widened. Logan’s cool reserve was melting like an icicle in the sun. “Is it a sweet?”
“Aye, it’s a sweet. Cream, honey, oatmeal, and Perthshire raspberries. Pity it’s too early for raspberries. I’ll ask Mrs. Craig to make it with the early gooseberries instead, though it’s likely to earn me a clout to the side of the head.”
“Well, then don’t suggest it! Why should you?”
“So you can try it.”
“Well…oh.” Juliana thought this a sweet gesture on his part, and wasn’t sure what to say in reply. He didn’t seem to expect any response, because he turned and began to make his way down the passage to their left.
Juliana caught at his coat and followed along, her thoughts in more of a turmoil than they’d been since she arrived at Castle Kinross. If she did persuade Logan to marry her, it would be far easier if she could continue to be wary of him. She’d thought that would be easy enough, but now here he was, entertaining her with his stories and offering her raspberries and sweets.
The blasted man was making it difficult for her to dislike him. She didn’t care one bit for it, but there wasn’t much she could do about it while she was trapped in a tunnel with him. Perhaps it would be best if she suggested they find their way back out as soon as—
“Oh,no. Did you hear that, Mr. Blair?”
He turned. “What?”
It was a furtive scuttling, like little claws scrabbling across a stone floor. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine. “It sounded like—” Her words dissolved into a screech as one—no,two—sets of tiny feet scurried over the toes of her shoes.
Juliana didn’t pause to think or utter a single word, but ran instinctively toward Logan. Later she’d congratulate herself for not leaping into his arms, but instead contenting herself with standing on the tops of his boots, so her own feet were off the floor and away from those loathsome creatures.
Logan gave a faint exclamation of surprise to find himself suddenly in possession of a panicked female. To his credit, he didn’t send them both sprawling, but closed his arms around her waist to keep her steady.
Juliana had wrapped her own arms around his torso to keep from toppling over, but now the first alarm had passed, she was ready to sink to the floor in mortification. She wasn’t afraid of much—snakes, stinging insects, heights—but rats made her lose her wits.
And now…oh, for goodness sakes, she’d actuallythrownherself at him! How in the world would she excuse herself? He was going to laugh himself silly at her—
“Let me guess, Lady Juliana. Rats?”
There wasn’t a hint of laughter in his voice. It should have comforted her, but somehow his gentlemanly forbearance made it even worse. At least if he’d laughed at her, she could have defended herself.
As it was…
“Yes, I…oh, dear. I do beg your pardon, Mr. Blair,” she muttered, her face once again in flames. She felt his chest vibrate and was certain he was suppressing laughter, but when he spoke his voice was remarkably grave.
“Don’t apologize. I’m happy to help you. Are they gone now?”
It wasn’t until then Juliana realized she was still standing on top of the poor man, and clutching at his waist. “Yes, I—I think so.” It didn’t matter if they were still there or not. Even if there’d been dozens of them waiting to fly up her skirts, nothing could be more humiliating than to carry on molesting him.
Juliana swept one suspicious glance over the floor, then climbed down off him. “Do you think Duncan’s found his way out by now? Shall we go back up and see?”
“You don’t want to see the room where Bonnie Prince Charlie is rumored to have hidden from the English? It’s just over there.” He waved a hand behind him.
Over his shoulder Juliana could just make out a spot where the tunnel walls widened into a room of sorts. “No, thank you. That is, I’m sure it’s fascinating, but…”
But unless Bonnie Prince Charlie was still in residence, she’d leave the room to the rats.
“Aye, all right, but are yousure, Lady Juliana, you don’t wish to see the wine cellar? It’s just up a short flight of stairs. Some of the bottles are hundreds of years old.”
Was he teasing her? Juliana gave him a sharp look, but he only gazed back at her with innocent blue eyes. “No, I think not, Mr. Blair. It’s kind of you to offer, but…”
But if there was a place rats tended to gather, it was in a wine cellar.
He sighed, as if disappointed. “All right, but first I want to show you the timbered alcove. It’s haunted by the ghost of a Jacobite soldier who lost his leg at Culloden, and later died in this very tunnel. I couldn’t let you leave without seeing where he bled out.”
