And yet hours earlier, he’d carried her off to his tower like a pirate, and—no, she couldn’t accuse him of anything beyond accepting what was freely offered. Oh, how would she ever be able to face him again? Or Sophie, or anyone else she knew for that matter? How foolish he must think her, how horrified he must be to think that such a wanton creature was governess to his innocent young sisters!
She crossed to the window and stared at the dusty road that wound past the old tower. She would be dismissed, of course. She couldn’t expect a reference from the countess. What then? She could go to Edinburgh or Glasgow, perhaps. Or she could go home, beg her brother’s forgiveness, and do as she should have done in the first place. She’d been raised to be demure, ladylike, obedient. What on earth had happened to her good sense? Alec MacNabb, that’s what had happened. She sighed. No one but her mother had ever told her she was beautiful.
It seemed as if the curse that lay upon her had taken an even darker turn. It was far worse this way, having tasted passion, to wake up to see that she was destined to live a dry, loveless life.
She spun as the door burst open.
Alec MacNabb stood there, glowering at her. Her heart flipped over in her chest, and kicked to a gallop. He was utterly terrifying, infuriating and gorgeous. Her lips tingled. Everything tingled.
“Hiding, my lady?”
At his sarcastic use of her title stirred her to anger. “Do you not knock before you enter a lady’s chamber?” she demanded in icy tones.
He threw back his head and laughed, then kicked the door shut and strode further into the room. “I think we know each other well enough to dispense with polite formalities like knocking, don’t you?” He pulled down the edge of his cravat to reveal a small red bite mark on his throat. “I discovered it this morning.”
Caroline felt her face heat. “I didn’t mean to injure you, my lord.”
“It didn’t hurt in the least.”
“I don’t usually—I mean I’ve never—” she spluttered. “You—youknewyou were betrothed, and you still—oh, how despicable!”
He raised his chin. “In my defense, I thought you were Sophie.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “It wasn’t that dark!”
He colored. “I’d never met her! I only knew she was coming to Scotland, so we could discuss the possibility of marrying.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Look, you were in the tower, and you were English. How many English ladies could possibly be here in the Highlands—my Highlands—at the same time? It was a natural assumption to make.”
She felt the blood drain from her limbs. “That’s why you proposed, I suppose.”
“Proposed? I did no such thing. I may have said a great many things in the heat of passion last night, but I am damned sure I did not propose to you!”
She shook her head. “No, at the tower, the day you arrived. You said the chapel was all ready for the wedding ceremony.” She held up a hand when he began to object. “There’s no need to worry—I thought it was some kind of Highland Midsummer prank, to propose to the first lass you see, or something of the sort. The girls and I had been talking about the Midsummer celebrations, you see.”
“I thought you were Sophie. I thought I had ...” His voice trailed off.
“Thought what?” she demanded.
“That I had the right to ... I decided to marry you—her—for the sake of Glenlorne. I wasn’t even certain I would marry her until I met you.”
“Her,” Caroline corrected.
“You,” he said. “Sophie has money and position, and I need both—for my people, this damned pile of crumbling rocks, and my sisters. They deserve a future. What I don’t need is complications, or problems. What exactly do you intend to do?”
Caroline stared at him. “I? Did you really imagine that I would force you to marry me?”
She began to laugh. She couldn’t help it. If only he knew the truth—she’d come here to the ends of the earth toavoidmarriage. “I am your sisters’ governess!” she said at last.
He leaned against the table, and folded his arms over his chest, his long legs stretched out before him. “That’s another thing. Do you truly expect me to believe that the Earl of Somerson allowed you to take a post as a governess?” he asked. “If not for marriage, is this some kind of adventure, a family scandal I’ve somehow stumbled into the middle of?”
She lowered her eyes, all mirth fading.
He uttered a sharp oath and took a step toward her. She moved to the other side of the bed to avoid him, and he stood staring at her across the narrow width of it. The scent of her perfume rose around him. “Don’t tell me—he doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?”
She raised her chin. “I am an independent woman.”
He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Ah, but would Somerson agree?”
Her cheeks filled with blood. “Of course. I am twenty-three years old.” It was a lie. She lacked three weeks until her twenty-third birthday, and Somerson was her guardian in all respects.
