Page 30 of The Seduction of Viscount Vice

“But it would have been right,” Mairi burst out. “Instead I let my fears win. And my insecurities. You were so damned handsome and clever and popular. I thought…I thought it was just calf love, gone in weeks. And a marriage couldn’t be built on that.”

“And what do you think now?” he said fiercely.

Mairi’s blue eyes were huge, glistening with tears. “I think if I take several steps and you take just one, we could meet. And I could tell you the why…and how very sorry I am for hurting you. Twice. And then perhaps you might hold me so tightly that we make each other whole again. Will you take one step, Iain? And no, I bloody well will not call you Vice. Ever.”

He rubbed a hand across his jaw to hide the ridiculously unsteady grin threatening to split his face in two. Even humbling herself, his courageous Highland lass, his beautiful contrary Mairi, was a warrior until the end.

And damned if he didn’t love her more for it.

…

Please take a step. Please, please take a step.

The words whirled in Mairi’s head until she thought she might scream. She’d stripped herself emotionally bare, exposed herself to probable scorn and rejection. Wanted him to forgive her and reach out more than she wanted her next breath. And yet she had no right to demand anything. Not from Iain.

And then he took one step forward. And another. With a choked sob, she sprinted across the room and flung herself into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist then crushed his lips with a long kiss of love and relief and heartfelt promises she couldn’t even put into words just yet.

A hearty round of applause and cheers sounded. Startled, she looked over to her right. Practically squashing one another in an attempt to get the best view around the parlor door were Sin, Grace, Devil, Eliza, and Lady Parkton. All were smiling broadly.

Mairi’s cheeks heated. For possibly the first time in her life, she actually didn’t want an audience. “Um…Iain.”

He turned to the door. “Diaz!”

An immaculately dressed mountain of a man appeared in seconds. “Yes, my lord?”

“Would you have my carriage brought around? Lady Mairi and I are going for an outing.”

“At once, my lord. My lady,” Diaz replied with a small bow.

Mairi blinked. It was just as well she’d avoided Fallen’s notorious butler in her first visit here. With his bald head, pierced ears, and scarred cheeks he looked more like a warlord ready to conquer the continent, and she’d have run screaming. It was only slightly reassuring to know the continent-conquering warlord also had impeccable manners.

Cuddling closer to Vice and inhaling the scent of whisky and herbs, she let out a long breath. “Where will we go?”

“Far away from those in the penny seats,” said Iain pointedly.

There were plenty of grumbles before their audience stomped away, and Mairi giggled. “You should probably put me down.”

“Why? In this position, I can admire the fabric of your breeches with my hands. If I had a third hand, I would also be admiring the fabric of your ruffled shirt.”

“You honestly don’t care that I have the smallest breasts in England?”

“Anything more than a mouthful is wastage.” He walked her out into the foyer and toward Fallen’s main entrance. “And are we Scots not renowned for our parsimony?”

“That is true,” she began, but a jaw-droppingly luxurious carriage pulling up interrupted her. Iain continued down the steps, thanking a footman for opening the door, then she was deposited onto the softest leather squabs ever created. He climbed in behind her, tugged her into his lap, and the carriage jerked into motion.

“So,” she said softly. “Let me tell you a story.”

“I’m listening,” he replied, one hand smoothing her hair with a supremely comforting touch.

“I was sixteen when the Earl of Farnsworth first came calling. He and my father were friends. I didn’t like him very much. He was so very…English. Now, I know there are Englishmen and Englishmen. Sin and Devil seem very modern-thinking and agreeable, but Farnsworth was not. He was wealthy, very particular, very reserved, and always wore the same clothing every time I saw him: gray trousers, beige waistcoat, and brown jacket. He never wanted to travel because England was superior to all countries. He wore heeled shoes but still only came up to my shoulder, and he always smelled of garlic from an infusion he took to ward off illness.”

“Sounds like the man every young lady dreams of,” Iain said dryly. “Go on.”

“As the years passed, his visits became more and more frequent. And sometimes he would stay, too. I hated that. The way he looked at me, stood too close and brushed up against me. But I didn’t think much on it as I’d met a young viscount at a parish picnic and was quite smitten. The viscount brought me gifts. Not meaningless trinkets, but sweet gale because I loved the scent, and my favorite cream cakes, and textbooks to study in private. Unfortunately, I made the grave error of confiding in my maid. Next thing I knew, Farnsworth arrived for yet another visit, and he cornered me in the gardens and attempted to put his hand under my gown. I tried to push him away and he slapped me, telling me I better get used to his touch as I would know it for the rest of my life. I would be an excellent breeder, he said, good sturdy Scottish blood, although I would have to change the spelling of my name to M-a-r-y as Mairi was exotic and odd.”

“That fucking bastard. Was that when the betrothal announcement was made?”

“Yes. And that is when I met you at the creek. I thought losing my virginity would be enough to cancel the betrothal. But it wasn’t. My father and Farnsworth said if I saw you again, not only would they destroy you publicly, but they would have my manservant arrested and killed for indecency. I didn’t even know what that meant, so I went to Ramsey and he confessed his preference for men and what his ex-lover had threatened to reveal about him. Then he told me he was going to flee to France. I was heartbroken. First losing you, then him.”