Page 44 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

“Ross knows well enough what he is about,” she said.

“Does he? Does he truly understand the woman you are?”

She arched an eyebrow. “So you admit it is I, the woman, who has set the snare.”

He gave a slow nod. “You have your part in this disaster. Maybe I should leave you to your fate.”

“Leave her to her fate?” Caroline said. “How will you stop her?”

His gaze remained on Fiona. “I will have the marriage annulled and marry her to another.”

Fiona snorted. “It would take your entire fortune to induce a man to marry me when he glimpses the shrew he takes to wife.” Caroline choked.

“Are you ill?” Fiona demanded.

Caroline shook her head and cleared her throat.

“Taran, fetch her some brandy.”

He gave Caroline an odd look, then strode to the sideboard.

“You need not worry,” Fiona said. “Scottish law allows me to marry whom I please. Say what he might, my brother cannot annul my marriage, nor can he force me to marry. He may try to browbeat me.” She laughed. “That will prove useless.” “You are fortunate,” Caroline said.

Taran appeared at her side, brandy snifter in hand. “You do not consider yourself fortunate?” He extended the glass towards her.

Caroline eyed it. She’d had two sherries already. One more drink couldn’t hurt. She took the glass and lifted it to her lips.

He continued. “Only last night you gave me the distinct impression you considered yourself most fortunate.”

The brandy slid down her windpipe. She sucked in a harsh breath and coughed.

“Taran!” Fiona slid across the couch to her side. She seized the glass and set it on the table. “You will kill her before the night is finished.”

“On the contrary,” he said smoothly, “I plan on—”

Caroline surged to her feet. “Sir,” she managed in a hoarse voice.

His expression was all innocence.

“Do not worry.” Fiona shot him a deprecating look. “Once you have provided the required heir, you may tell him to go to the devil.”

Caroline sucked in another harsh breath and swung her gaze onto the girl.

“Is that your plan, my dear?” Taran drawled.

Caroline jerked her attention back to him. He stared. Was that hope in his voice? He might despise Aphrodite. He might not forgive her, but he would gladly let her spread her legs for him. Taran’s words in the garden returned like a clap of thunder—’It is more likely you fled the festivities to meet someone. The blue domino perhaps?’ Taran had seen her with Lord Edmonds.

‘I expect to hear news from you immediately’, he had said to William yesterday before they’d left her uncle’s home.

Taran had sent Lord Edmonds in search of Aphrodite.

Why hadn’t it occurred to her before? When he’d left her in the carriage, he’d told her to come to him when she could, but had planned all along to seek her out. If Taran saw her with Lord Edmonds, then he saw her speaking with Lady Margaret. No one could mistake Margaret for anyone but herself. Margaret would never betray her. But if she didn’t realize— Caroline’s head whirled.

“I—I—” she croaked. “I would—”

A loud pounding on the door interrupted her.

“Blackhall!” a muffled male voice shouted.