stammered.
Sorcha thrust her arm backward as though to deny his existence. “Pay him no mind, Maddie.”
Stubborn little witch! Where had she gotten it in her mind that she should saddle herself with a bloody Lycan? What the devil was so enticing about the beasts? “Sorcha, I’m not done speaking with you.”
“Pity,” she bit out. “I’m done speakin’ with ye.”
“Ah!” a crackly voice came from the corridor. “Mr. MacQuarrie, I am so glad you accepted my invitation.” The Duchess of Hythe, a dragon of the first order, stepped into the drawing room. Her icy blue eyes raked over Alec as though she was admiring his form.
He gulped. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
The duchess gestured to the blond chit. “Have you met my granddaughter?”
Not unless one considered Sorcha’s “Pay him no mind, Maddie,” an introduction. “I’m afraid I haven’t.”
Her Grace rose to her full height and beckoned her granddaughter forward. “Mr. Alec MacQuarrie, this is Lady Madeline Hayburn and her delightful friend, Miss Ferguson.”
“We’ve met,” Alec growled. At the duchess’ imperious expression, he softened his voice and amended, “That is, Miss Ferguson and I are old acquaintances.”
“Neighbors in Edinburgh,” Sorcha clarified as though to distance herself from him even further.
The duchess shifted her gaze to the lass who still had her back to Alec. “You are so well connected, Sorcha,” she replied in a very congenial tone, not one usually associated with the Duchess of Hythe. Had Sorcha managed to charm the old dragon too? Apparently. The woman had called her by her Christian name.
Of course, Sorcha had that effect on everyone. Anyone who came near her adored her. And… his eyes lowered to her perfectly rounded bottom, which he’d never noticed before. He could easily move his hand to caress her if he was of a mind to do so.
Damn it all to hell! Those bloody Lycans would be all over her in an instant. She’d get her wish in that regard, but she wouldn’t be happy with the outcome. In the last few months, his path had unfortunately crossed that of the Hadley brothers on more than one occasion. A more degenerate group of men didn’t exist.
Poor Sorcha wouldn’t realize that until it was too late, however. She was sweet and innocent and… out of her bloody mind if she thought he would stand by and let her literally throw herself to the wolves. Especially those damned wolves. Eynsford’s pack. His stomach roiled at the very thought.
“Sorcha, if I might have a word alone with you,” Alec said to the wood sprite.
She glanced back over her shoulder at him, and Alec forgot what he was going to say. When had her eyes become that bedeviling? She blinked, her long lashes sweeping across her cheeks. Freckles. Why had he never realized she had freckles? It made him wonder if she had those little spots of color all over. Dear God. Now all he’d be able to think about was what marks the little witch wore on her most sensitive places.
The Duchess of Hythe raised her eyebrows. Well, she raised one of them. The other one scrunched up in a most offended fashion. “Is this a word that cannot be shared with the rest of us, Mr. MacQuarrie?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, however nothing but a croaking sound came out. He closed it. He must resemble a fish. A very uncomfortable fish. He’d hoped to save Sorcha from Lycans, and instead he’d somehow turned into a blasted salmon.
“If he shared the word, Yer Grace,” Sorcha piped up, “then it wouldna be a surprise.” She looked up at Alec, and her eyes danced at him in warning. He would kill her. Or kiss her. He wasn’t certain which.
“A surprise?” the duchess gasped as she laid a hand on her chest. Her flesh jiggled at the edge of her bodice. “For me?”
He swung his gaze to Sorcha’s bodice. Definitely a better view. In fact, it was one he couldn’t take his eyes off.
“Mr. MacQuarrie?” the duchess prompted.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Alec said with a small bow, ripping his gaze from Sorcha’s person. “If I told you, the surprise would be ruined.”
The shrewd old woman’s eyes narrowed. Then she giggled. That old matriarch giggled like a girl still in the schoolroom. “I do so love a surprise.” She clapped her hands together with glee. “May I have just a hint?” She held her fingers up with about an inch of space between them and looked at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars.
“Grandmamma,” the