Page 46

“Ah, but you forget that we’re already married, so there’s no need for me to ruin you,” he said. “Also, chloroform was discovered this century.”

The blindfold lifted slightly as she arched a brow in his direction. “What could I even see from the carriage window that would be incriminating?”

He laughed. “We’re not doing anything that could bring the constabulary to our door.”

“That’s a relief. We’re trying to make me less scandalous, not more.”

“There won’t be a whiff of scandal about this adventure, I promise,” he said.

“So are you telling me that all of this”—she waved a hand in the air before her face—“is because you’re concerned I’ll figure out our destination before we arrive?”

He couldn’t help his grin. “You should also consider the amount of enjoyment I derive from watching how much this bothers you.”

She crossed her arms and frowned. “Tell me what we’re doing.”

He leaned forward to pat her hand, and she jerked a little at the suddenness of the touch but then settled back again.

“No,” he said.

“Then I shall sit here in silence and pout,” she announced.

“Please do.”

He settled back to watch her as the carriage sped over the hard-packed streets to Queensferry. His nerves had been churning ever since he’d suggested this night days ago. He hadn’t exactly planned this “honeymoon” when he’d asked her, but standing in her studio with the lamplight catching the gold in her hair, she’d been breathtaking, and he’d become caught up in the moment. There’d never been a woman quite like Ina in his life, and if she was willing to give him a little part of herself, he should hold on to it with everything he had. He would’ve been an idiot not to act, especially since he’d known immediately where to take her.

As the carriage slowed, Gavin looked out of the window.

“We’re here,” he said. Ina’s hand rose to the blindfold. “Not yet.”

“Gavin.” From her tone, he could tell she was trying to level an intimidating glare at him. The problem was, she appeared to be staring at the carriage wall a few inches to the right of his shoulder rather than directly at him.

He might have chuckled except for the nerves that skittered through him. He hadn’t been entirely truthful about avoiding the constabulary that evening. Under other circumstances, where they were going might have constituted trespassing if he hadn’t made previous arrangements. Now he could be almost certain neither he nor his wife would land in jail. Almost.

“Are we by the water?” Ina asked, lifting her nose in the air as he opened the carriage door and climbed down to help her out.

“Be careful of your skirts,” he warned, pushing her heavy wool dress out of the way of her boots. The muscles low in his core tensed. He might be her husband now, but any touch more intimate than holding gloved hands for a waltz still felt stolen.

Unable to resist, Gavin placed his hands on Ina’s waist to turn her so she faced the firth that stretched out before them, inky black against the night. The lemon verbena–scented soap he’d long suspected she used to wash her hair drifted up to him, and he couldn’t help inching a little closer to her so that his legs stirred the back of her skirts.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his lips close to her ear.

She shivered—from the cold, no doubt—and nodded.

Careful not to muss her hair as he untied the knot, he removed the blindfold.

“Your chariot, madam,” he said.

Ina stared at the little boat outfitted with a lantern and a pair of oars. Then she looked around at the Firth of Forth.

“This is all very mysterious,” she said with a tilt of her lips. “It’s exciting.”

The things he would do to earn that little smile from her every single day were madness.

“Come, I’ll help you down,” he said.

The boat rocked back and forth gently against the ropes that secured it to the dock as he handed her in, then climbed down next to her.

“If you’ll just sit there”—he pointed to the bow of the boat—“I’ll row.”