Even though her chestnut hair was pulled into a tight bun at her nape, he could see the subtle threads of auburn and gold, practically feel the softness. There was not a trace of the lass she’d been when he’d known her sister. If he had to guess, he would have said she was not the same person. That someone was playing a trick on him, but the way she pursed her lips at him right then, the unforgiving line of her mouth—he’d seen that same look in her father.
When last he’d seen her, Jaime had been a dowdy lass headed for spinsterhood. And not because she wasn’t particularly attractive, but for her venomous tongue, which seemed to pull a veil over everyone’s eyes. He’d heard rumors, listened to her sister complain about it. But now to be on the receiving end—to know exactly what she thought about him as each word sliced into his gut.
The woman stood rigid, hands fisted at her sides, looking as stiff and stalwart as any warrior, save for the pretty light blue gown, the womanly curves. Ballocks…
In all her goddess-like glory, she glowered down her nose at him. A lovely package filled with animosity. Despite the circumstances, Lorne was intrigued by her and unbidden sparks of desire lashed within him. Which only made him feel more disgusted. He’d had entanglements with this family before. What he wanted was Dunrobin back, and he wasn’t going anywhere until she returned it to him.
Before the silence stretched on too long, Lorne cleared his throat and turned fully to face her, touching his fingers to a cool button on his waistcoat to ground himself.
“Miss Andrewson,” he started again, then stopped when she raised a perfectly arched brow and gave him such a look that if he’d been a lesser man, he might have backed toward her window, opened it up and flung himself out. The way to gain her attention and cooperation was not by telling her what to do. The only reason she’d turned around was that in a moment of weakness, he’d called out to her like some feckless fool.
Before he could continue, Jaime interrupted him. “I am unwilling to return the property, Sutherland. I understand that ye might have some attachment to it, but this was a business decision. The way Dunrobin Castle is situated upon the North Sea allows me access, and I have plans to build a private port there to expand my company.”
Some attachment to it…as if a favorite trinket or pair of boots. Good God, she tried his patience. And yet, he had to try and warm her up to him, gain her trust.
He fiddled with his button again, taking a step closer to her. “There are other properties. Better ones, even. Some with docks already built. I can help ye find the right one.” In all his training, Lorne had become quite accustomed to reading body language, and the way she was pinching her fingers together was a telling sign that she was nervous—that she might not have been telling him the whole truth. Suddenly, he was speaking before thinking. “Did my brother put the castle up for sale, or did ye approach him?”
She stiffened, perhaps not expecting his bold question. “Why does that matter?”
Lorne shrugged, feigning indifference.
Her gaze shifted from his. “I do no’ recall.”
He moved closer, impressed that she didn’t back away from him but held her ground. There was a defiance in her eyes that lashed out and struck him in the chest.
“Why did ye want to buy my castle, Miss Andrewson? Tell me the truth.”
Anger flashed across her face, a ripple in cream. “How dare ye come into my house and accuse me of being a thief and a liar.”
“I never accused ye of being a thief.”
“Ye might as well have.” Her hands were flying around as she spoke, and he dared not get any nearer in case he came into contact with one of them.
“I am simply trying to understand what has happened. And I think ye’re hiding the truth from me.”
“I am a businesswoman. I want to expand my business. That does no’ make me a liar. But ye, Your Grace,” she said the latter in a disgusted hiss and poked him in the chest, “ye’re a hypocrite.”
“What?”
“All this talk of thieving and lying when the only one in the room who’s done any of the latter is ye.”
“I’m no’ a thief, nor am I a liar. What basis have ye to make such