Page 72 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

“I agree completely.”

“There should be mutual respect.”

“Agreed.”

“And, of course, he must be pliant.”

Nick choked on his whisky. “Pliant?” He wasn’t pliant in the least. Never had been.

“Aye. You know. Easily trained.”

“T-trained.”

“Aye.” It was disconcerting that her tone was so blasé. Over the matter of submissive men. She blinked at him. “Did your mother no’ train your father?”

“I . . .” He had no clue. Though, apparently, she had trained him to wear kilts on occasion. “Is that an important thing?”

“I should think so. No woman wants to live with an untutored man.”

This conversation had taken an alarming turn. But it was illuminating . . . if he didn’t allow himself to become horrified. “What kinds of things would you teach . . . a husband?”

She was silent for a moment, as though she’d never gone so far as to consider specifics. “Well, I would want him to consider my desires.”

Desires. A flare flickered within him. “Yes, definitely.”

“He must be respectful of my heritage.”

“Absolutely.”

“He must be kind to his servants.”

“Yes.”

“And he must do as I ask, at all times, of course.”

“Ye—I say. At all times?”

She nodded. “Naturally.”

“Do you really want a husband like that?”

“Of course I do.” She leaned closer. “I’m quite opinionated.”

“But a husband who does everything you ask?”

“Why do you laugh?”

He abruptly stopped. Then he poured himself more whisky, because he felt he needed it. She was still working on her first glass. “Isobel, there are many kinds of men in the world . . .”

She blew out a breath. “Really? Are you going to tell me the facts of life now?”

“Not at all. I’m just trying to make a point.”

“Well, make it then.”

“You’re a strong woman.” She preened a little at that. “I just can’t see you happy with a biddable man. You need someone equal to your strength, or you’d be bored all your days.”

“What rot.”