Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,107
asked in a low voice. “How did you … My God, dinna tell me you came alone. I know you did. Damn it, Merry …”
Slorach spoke up then. “Fia and I met her on the way back from Tarbert. She was ill on the packet.”
Keir turned pale, and guided Merritt to look up at him. “Ill?”
“Just a bit seasick,” she assured him.
Slorach gave Keir a dark glance. “Fia is of the mind the lass is in a hopeful way.”
Fia nodded firmly, ignoring Merritt’s sputtering protest. “Look at the palms of her hands,” she said. “See you how pink they are, a bit paler in the centers? And do you ken what calmed the heaves? Beef sausage, that’s what.” She gave an emphatic nod, as if that proved a point.
Keir smoothed Merritt’s hair and looked down at her. “You’re a willful lass,” he muttered. “Traveling here by yourself? Of all the crackbrain, reckless notions—” He broke off, scowling. “We’re going to have words over this, Merry, and a sore hearing it will be for you.” But his hands cradled her face as he spoke, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her forehead, cheeks, chin, and the tip of her nose.
“I had to come,” Merritt said reasonably, thrilling to the feel of his arms around her. “You forgot to leave the key to the lock. I had no way of removing the bracelet.”
“I meant it to stay on you,” he told her, and pressed his cheek to hers. “To remind you whose heart is in your keeping.”
“I don’t need reminding of that,” she whispered. He ducked his head to kiss the side of her neck.
“Young MacRae,” Slorach demanded, “do you mean to make it right for this puir lady you did wrang by?”
“I do—” Keir began, and paused as someone emerged from the distillery. Following his gaze, Merritt saw Ethan Ransom approaching.
Ethan smiled at her. “I told MacRae I thought you’d show up here, no matter what he or anyone else said.”
“Why?” she asked sheepishly. “I suppose I must strike you as remarkably obstinate?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “It’s only that my wife would have done the same thing.”
Keir kept his arm around Merritt as he turned more fully toward Ethan. “Ransom … I’d be obliged if you’d send one of your men to fetch the sheriff. Before we’re beset by assassins, it seems we have the small matter of a wedding to take care of.”
Chapter 36
AFTER KEIR COLLECTED MERRITT’S leather valises, she went into the cottage with him. Wallace followed, panting happily. The home’s interior was brighter and airier than Merritt had expected, with white plastered walls and windows with diamond-shaped panes to let in the light. A broad brick fireplace with a polished copper hood warmed the main room. Although the floor was paved with hard gray slate, it was neatly swept and softened by colorful handmade rugs. The far end of the room opened to a small kitchen with a stove and a plumbed sink.
Keir carried the valises into a small, sparsely furnished bedroom with a fine four-poster bed with fluted columns.
Merritt unpinned her traveling hat and set it on the bed. She ran her fingertips lightly over a beautifully quilted coverlet. “Did your mother make this?” she asked, feeling oddly bashful.
“Aye, she was great on sewing.” He turned her to face him and unfastened her traveling cloak. “If there was anyone I trusted to take you back home,” he said, “I’d put you on the next steamer back to Glasgow. I dinna want you traveling alone again, Merry. You shouldn’t have come.”
“I know,” she said contritely. “I’m sorry.”
His mouth twisted. “You’re no’ sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry you’re not happy about it.”
His brooding gaze swept over her. “What’s this about being ill on the ship?”
“It was just a moment of queasiness. I’m quite well now.”
After removing her cloak and laying it on the bed, Keir took her shoulders in his hands. “Are you willing to wed me?”
“It’s what I want more than anything,” she said.
He continued to frown. “Dinna complain to me if you change your mind later.”
She smiled up at him. “I won’t change my mind.”
Hearing muffled conversation from the main room, and the sounds of someone bustling in the kitchen, Keir reluctantly released her. “’Tis best to say as little as possible about Ransom,” he told her. “I told Slorach he’s representing a well-heeled whisky merchant who’s after buying land on Islay and laying out a links course. Ransom is to go around the island