Page 47 of The Highlander Is All That

She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Tell me, Hamish. What do you think of Twiggenberry?”

Something hard and sour lurched in his gut. “He is . . . an earl.”

“That is a fact, not an impression. Don’t prevaricate.”

All right. “I think he’s an ass.”

She tipped up her chin. “Would you like to marry him?”

“Certainly not!”

She caught his gaze and held it. He could not deny there was a hint of desperation in hers. “If you were in my position, would you marry him?”

His blood went cold. “Has he, um, asked?”

Her nod was nearly imperceptible.

Oh God. Horror screamed through him with cold strafing claws. His nerves prickled and his left eye began to twitch.

Had he ever had a more miserable moment in his life?

Never.

“What, ah, what did you say?”

She issued forth a small, wet snort. “I believe I vomited on him.”

He couldn’t have stopped his smile if his life depended upon it.

“Aunt Esmeralda says a girl can marry for money and position and then have affaires.”

“Does she?”

“But I don’t think I am that kind of girl.”

“No. I canna imagine you are.”

“I don’t even want to kiss him. The thought makes my stomach churn.”

“Um . . .” He took a step back. “Don’t think on it, then.”

“There’s more.”

“Is there?”

She took a long sip, then sucked in a breath. “You’re the only one I want to kiss, Hamish.”

Why did his heart soar? This was utterly inappropriate and indecent and wrong.

And wonderful.

“Elizabeth, you are drunk.”

“Not really. This stuff just makes people tell the truth. I know you don’t feel the same, and that’s all right. I know I’m not the prettiest sister and I am young and a little fanciful. But I do know what I want. I want to kiss you and only you.”

A lump formed in his throat. He swallowed it down. “Where did you get the idea I dinna feel the same, lass?”

Her gaze met his. He felt it to the core of his being. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”