A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,53

went still. Was he being brushed off? He took a step after her. “If anything I did last night caused offense—”

“No.” She put up her hand. “Nothing you did was wrong. It was my fault.” Her fingers curled into a fist. “All my fault. I don’t wish to cause complications for you, and yet I keep forgetting myself . . .”

He snorted. “It was not all your fault. If it had been anyone else on the rooftop, I would have gone back down without a word, aye?” He walked after her. “And who said you’re causing complications? My sisters?”

“The duchess, I imagine.” She raised her chin. “She encouraged you to marry. I daresay she didn’t expect you to run wild with some mad Scotswoman.”

He stood beside her. She was right, of course, about the duchess. But when he’d invited Her Grace’s help in finding a bride, he’d never once imagined that a woman like Ilsa would whirl into his life in an Edinburgh oyster cellar and capture his attention so completely.

“The duchess also suggested I stuff my head with English politics,” he said aloud, “leave off wearing a kilt, and purge the Scots from my speech. I’ll admit she had some reasonable points, like learning how to manage an estate ten times the size of Stormont, but she’s no’ my mither nor my keeper, lass.” He let his burr swell at the end. He was still a Scot, dukedom be hanged. “And I told you last night, you’re not mad.”

“Kissing you was madness.”

He scratched his chin. “I thought it was brilliant, myself. Do it again so I can study the matter more closely.”

Her cheeks were turning pink. She put one hand on his arm. “Captain—”

“Drew.” He caught her hand. “You canna kiss a man and refuse to call him by name. Andrew, if you dislike Drew, but ’tis mainly my mother who calls me Andrew now.”

Her lips pursed, as if she was trying not to smile. “Drew, then. But there’s no good reason—”

“Good reason?” He leaned toward her. “The very good reason I have is that I find you fascinating. And if you want me to stop, you’ll have to say so aloud, because the way you kiss me back is all kinds of encouragement.”

“But your plans,” she began again.

He dropped her hand and stepped back, spreading his arms wide. “Plans? I have no plans—nor any promises made. Let’s not worry about that. Let’s just . . . see how things go.” She narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned engagingly. “You’ve promised me nothing, either, and I won’t hold you to anything that might happen. ʼTwill all be at your desire, or not at all.”

“You’re a devil,” she told him, now very obviously biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

He winked. “Aye, but not a blackhearted, world-destroying one. Merely one of the minor, mischievous devils, more wicked fun than evil.”

She stepped right up to him, a flash of exhilaration in her eyes. Oh, this woman set his blood on fire with just that look. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “And that’s what makes you dangerous.”

Chapter Twelve

To Bella’s delight, the maze was an excellent one, tricky and confounding. No one had made it to the center. The next sunny morning, she stood up from the breakfast table and raised her hands portentously.

“I propose a game,” she said as everyone looked at her. “With prizes.”

“Hear, hear!” Monteith tapped his spoon on his cup.

“A race to the center of the maze,” blurted out Winnie, her eyes shining.

“Winifred!” Bella glared at her. “A race, with teams and prizes, and eternal glory for the winner.”

“Eternal glory?”

“If I win, I shall never let any of you forget it,” put in Winnie, making everyone laugh.

“If there are no objections, we’ll meet in the garden at eleven.” Bella grinned. “Wear sturdy shoes if you want to have a chance.”

Drew had meant to review ledgers, but this was more appealing, especially when he caught the gleeful look Ilsa shot him.

God save him. After twelve long years in the army, commanded by others, assigned to lonely barracks and constantly scrimping to send money to his family, the luxury he relished the most was freedom—to postpone a duty, to laugh, to follow a beautiful woman with her beguiling smile into a maze for who-knew-what frivolity. He spoke to Watkins, putting off him and the ledgers, and was one of the first to the garden.

“We’ll draw partners so there’s no unfair advantage.” Bella climbed up on the low stone