Rogue of the Isles (18 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Breeding

BOOK: Rogue of the Isles
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Jamie fixed his golden eyes on Nicholas like a hawk about to swoop in. Nicholas stared back, his gaze icy. A shiver ran down Mari’s spine, and for a moment she wondered if one of them was about to challenge the other. But for what? This was only a silly card game, and no insult had been given. Yet the air fairly crackled as neither man blinked. She glanced left toward Maddie, only to find her friend’s eyes wide and round. She sensed the tension too.

Merciful heavens. It would never do if Jamie and Nicholas resorted to fisticuffs right here in the ballroom. Lady Castlereagh would never overlook such an infraction to the rules. Mari had to do something. But what?

As if it had a mind of its own, her hand slipped down beneath the table and across her lap to tentatively brush Jamie’s thigh.

His reaction was instantaneous. Although he retained his stiff posture, she felt the tension easing out of him. Quickly, she removed her hand. So much for her deciding to control her behavior. Now what would he think? But she had to do
something.

Jamie glanced down and picked up the deck, shuffled the cards loosely and placed the pack back on the table without saying a word. He hadn’t acknowledged her gross indiscretion, so maybe he understood why she had done it.

Nicholas smiled coldly as he presented the deck to Maddie to be cut. She did so rather clumsily, her gaze still fixed on Jamie. Nicholas’s long, slender fingers adroitly slipped the cards to each person with a professional flair that made Mari think he had done this many times before.

Jamie picked up his thirteen cards, and Mari was getting ready to study hers when she felt his thigh press against hers. Barely managing not to gasp, she shifted slightly, breaking the contact. His leg followed, assailing hers once again, although he remained intent on moving his cards around.

Mari could hardly keep from sputtering. She shifted again, to no avail. Jamie’s thigh remained affixed to hers. If she moved any farther, she would practically be falling off her chair. Maddie was already giving her a strange look. Mari gave her a weak smile, trying to ignore the warmth from the contact spreading up her leg to pool deep in her belly.

“You are to play the first trick, sirrah,” she managed to say, although her voice sounded somewhat raspy.

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “Ye want me to play a trick, lass?”

She sighed. Did he really not know the rules to whist, or was he being deliberately obtuse? Before she could respond, Maddie giggled and answered.

“You put out the first card. We each have to match the suit with a higher number if we can. You and I are partners as are Mari and Nicholas. Whichever team has the high card wins the trick.”

Jamie laid down the queen of hearts. “I like the idea of winning.”

“So do I,” Nicholas muttered.

“We shall see about that,” Jamie answered and caressed Mari’s leg with a slow movement of his own, although his gaze never turned her way.

Mari’s breath hitched as he continued the easy movement back and forth along her thigh. Lud! Had Jamie taken complete leave of his senses? How was she supposed to endure this torture? The leisurely stroking was doing strange things to her insides. The butterflies crashed madly about her stomach. Lower still, muscles clenched in her abdomen while a steady throbbing began between her legs. She felt warm moisture begin to gather there too, and suddenly her gown felt much too tight against her breasts. Mari panted slightly. The room was much too warm.

Yet Jamie sat there as calmly as if nothing were amiss.

“Are you feeling well, Mari?” Maddie asked. “You look a bit flushed.”

If she only knew. “It is just quite warm in here.”

“I was just thinking I might need my shawl,” Maddie answered. “Are you sure you are not ill?”

“I…I am fine.” Mari laid a card down, wishing she could openly glare at Jamie, but that would just draw unwanted attention. She settled for a quick kick to his ankle, although her soft slipper hardly made an impact against Jamie’s boot. A corner of his mouth lifted at the effort, and then he shifted his leg away.

She felt cold from the sudden removal of his body heat and shivered.

Maddie looked worried. “I really think you are coming down with something.”

“No.” Mari gave Jamie as deliberate a look as she dared. “I am sure I will be fine for the rest of the evening.”

“If ye need anything, lass, ye just have to ask,” Jamie said.

What did he mean by that? Was he implying
more
? Mari could not tell since he kept his face impassive. The man truly was insufferable. What she needed was to put some space between herself and him, but that would hardly be proper before they had played all thirteen tricks. What if he started up again?

To her relief—or at least she thought it was relief, for the pulsing between her legs had subsided—Jamie behaved himself for the rest of the evening.

As the four of them went to get punch later, Nevin and Yancy approached.

“Are you quite recovered, Miss Barclay?” Yancy asked.

“Very much so. I was just a bit shaken,” Mari replied as Nicholas returned.

“Nae thanks to either of ye,” Jamie nearly growled.

Both men had the grace to look chastised. “We should not have crowded your mount so closely,” Nevin said.

“Ye would be wise to remember that the next time ye approach a lady mounted side-saddle.”

“You were on a horse?” Nicholas interrupted. “Whatever were you doing riding?”

“My sister is an excellent horsewoman,” Mari answered. “Mr. MacLeod has been trying to teach me those skills.”


N’est nécessaire pas
,” Nicholas exclaimed with a narrow-eyed look at Jamie. “A lady should ride in a carriage.”

Jamie frowned and stood taller. “A woman should ken how—”

“Actually,” Mari said quickly to avoid what seemed to becoming a confrontation, “I am learning rather to enjoy riding.”

“Good lass,” Jamie said smugly.

Mari refrained from glaring at him.
Good lass
? Like she was some kind of house pet? The next thing he’d be patting her on the head. “Jillian always wanted me to learn.”

“’Tis a wise lady,” Jamie said. “My brother chose well.”

A muscle twitched in Nicholas’s jaw, and he didn’t look pleased. Mari wondered why, but before she could ponder the problem further, the Duke of Argyll approached.

“So sorry to interrupt, but might I have a word with you, MacLeod? Your brother passed by Inveraray on his way to Cantford, and I should like a little more information on the horses we discussed. That is, if you could spare a few moments from such lovely ladies?”

For a moment, Mari thought Jamie might actually refuse. Surely he must be aware that George Campbell was a powerful man. The duke might be Scottish, but Argyll, being so close to the Borders, had often sided with British kings in the past. Besides, the duke’s wife was the daughter of Countess Frances Jersey who, in turn, was one of the prince regent’s mistresses. Mari had little interest in politics, but juicy gossip of the royals was another matter. That the former Earl of Jersey’s wife was also the mother-in-law of the current Lady Jersey, who was quite conservative, made the whole thing even more intriguing.

“I do not think we are in danger of being abducted from Lady Castlereagh’s ballroom should you accompany His Grace,” Mari said lightly to Jamie.

“You have my assurance she will not be out of my sight,” Nicholas said.

Jamie fixed Nicholas with a look that made Yancy and Nevin take steps backward before he turned to Mari. “Ye will remain in this room, lass, and nae stray to the veranda. Aye?”

Mari had a good mind to kick him, but she remembered the non-effect her slippered foot had on him earlier. How dare Jamie give her orders like she was some errant child in need to admonishment? And in front of the duke, no less. She reined in her rising temper with an effort. This was not the time nor place to hold the rogue to account, but he would account to her later.

“Fine,” she muttered, since it was obvious he wanted an answer.

He nodded, looking quite pleased with himself, and turned away with the duke.

“It looks like we are alone at long last,” Nicholas said, ignoring the fact that Yancy, Nevin and Maddie were still standing there, “although your keeper made it quite clear you were not allowed out of the room.”

“He is not my keeper.”

Nicholas raised a brow. “
Non
? He is always at your side.” He paused. “But perhaps that is what you prefer,
mademoiselle
?”

“No. I do not prefer it.” Lord, how many times had she tried to explain to Jamie what his constant hovering would look like? “He gave his oath to my sister that he would protect me. From what exactly, I do not know, but he takes his word very seriously.”

“Most men take their oaths seriously,” Nicholas said agreeably, “but how is another man to have a chance at courting you?”

Mari felt a thrill of pleasure run down her spine. Nicholas had alluded to courting her before. Were his intentions serious? Did she dare ask him what he meant?

He seemed to read her thoughts, because he picked up her hand and swept a kiss over her gloved knuckles. “
Ma chèri,
I have been enchanted with you since we met.” He turned to the young men. “Do you not agree that Miss Barclay would make a fine wife for me?”

Maddie gaped at him while both Yancy and Nevin muttered something that sounded like assurances, and then they all looked at her. Mari wanted to grab Maddie and do their special little jig, but she remembered where she was and decorum won out. “I should be pleased if you were to court me.”

Nicholas bowed. “It will be my pleasure to claim that exclusive right.”

Yancy and Nevin excused themselves quickly while Maddie looked around. “I see Abigail over in the corner. I think I will go speak to her,” she said and hurried away.

Mari smiled at Nicholas. “Now we truly are alone.”

“Except we are in a crowded room.” He held up his hand as Mari opened her mouth to answer. “I would not presume to ask you to go back on your word to the Highlander and venture out on the veranda.”

How sweet that Nicholas was so understanding. He was such a gentleman not to tempt her to go back on her word to Jamie. Although the more she thought about it, the higher her temper began to rise. Jamie had no right to expect her to stay in the room and not venture out for some fresh air. “I think I would enjoy a stroll,” she said as she lifted her chin defiantly.

Nicholas’s eyes lightened imperceptibly, but he shook his head. “I am quite sure the Highlander would embarrass you by creating a scene. Perhaps, though, we could arrange for a carriage ride and a picnic tomorrow?
Sans
your bodyguard?”

Mari furrowed her brows. “I do not know how to get Jamie—oh, wait. Could we go the day after tomorrow? I think Ian is due in town that morning.”

“Absolutely perfect,” Nicholas replied. “Perhaps we could select a spot for your portrait to be done while we are out as well.”

“I would like that,” Mari answered happily. “Of course, I will have to bring my maid as chaperone. Aunt Agnes will never consent to the outing otherwise.”

“Of course,” Nicholas said and smiled slightly. “That will be no problem.”

 

The lass was up to something, Jamie thought two days later as he ushered Ian into the library so they could talk. Mari had been all sweet smiles when Jamie had returned from his conversation with the duke at the party. He had half expected—actually, he had
fully
expected—she would defy his request to stay inside the ballroom, but he had found her talking to Maddie and the rather serious-looking daughter of the Earl of Sherrington. Nor had Mari balked when he suggested it was time to leave, although he wondered where the damned Frenchman had gone off to.

Jamie might have dismissed the whole thing except Mari had actually asked his permission—that was the word she used—to take some clothing and food to the orphanage near London Bridge. He’d accompanied her and, instead of her usual refrain that she did not need his protection, she had simply smiled and nodded. She had even greeted Ian earlier with more enthusiasm than he felt was warranted.

The lass was definitely up to something.

“Since I have nae said a word about problems at Cantford or Newburn, something else must be troubling ye,” Ian said as he removed a small, silver flask from his top coat and added a nip of whisky to the tea the maid had delivered. He held the flask up. “Would ye like a wee dram?”

“Nae.”

One of Ian’s brows rose. “Nae to a dram or nae to a problem?”

“Nae to both.”

Ian set the flask on the small table beside his armchair. “The estates seem to be doing well, even with the new butler at Newburn, although I admit when the messenger arrived saying ye had hied off to London, I had a mind to box yer ears when I saw ye.”

“I would like to see ye try,” Jamie replied in brotherly fashion and then shrugged. “I gave ye and Jillian my oath to protect the lass. I wasna able to persuade her to stay at Newburn.”

Ian lifted both his brows at that. “I never thought I’d hear ye admit ye couldna persuade a lass to do yer bidding.”

“Yer sister-by-marriage has a stubborn streak as wide as the River Tay. And a wee temper to boot.”

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