The Laird Who Loved Me (29 page)

“Naturally.” Georgiana chuckled. “I must say, you’ve given us quite a bit of amusement.”

Caitlyn blindly locked her gaze on the music on the pianoforte. Her hands were curled into fists in her lap, her back ramrod straight, her jaw tight. Every word the duchess uttered seared like a burn.

“Oh, look,” the duchess purred. “There he is now. Excuse me, Miss Hurst. I’m wanted elsewhere.”

Caitlyn forced her fingers to uncurl, and began to play another simple piece. Could it be true?
Had
Alexander agreed to her tasks merely because he wished to mock her to his lover? Was she being made a fool of?

Anger trembled through her. She’d ask Alexander, though she feared the truth. The only way the duchess could know about the tasks was if Alexander had mentioned them to her.

Not five minutes ago, she’d been ecstatic. Not only had she convinced Dingwall to visit, she’d also had a brainstorm in the carriage and had thought of the perfect task to finally break MacLean. She’d been abuzz with good spirits, but a few minutes with the duchess had left her angry and upset.

Arguing loudly, Dervishton and Falkland made their way to her side. She played a few more ditties and was relieved when Caithness brought Sally over and Caitlyn could beg her to take her place. Sally agreed with alacrity, and soon the room was filled with a perfectly played Italian aria.

Caitlyn looked for Alexander and found him standing to one side of the fireplace, his head bent to catch Georgiana’s words, his expression intense.

Caitlyn had to bite her lip to keep from marching up to them and . . . What could she do? A slap would be too kind, a kick too quick, and a verbal punching too tame. For the first time in her life, she wanted to actually
hurt
another person.

The realization cooled her blood. As impulsive as her nature was at times, she’d never condoned violence. Yet she couldn’t quell the furor that raced through her veins. Was it because Georgiana had been so snide? Or was it something more? Something about MacLean that made her want
more
?

His head was bent low so he could hear Georgiana and a lock of hair had fallen over his brow. As Caitlyn watched, he looked up and met her gaze.

A deep warmth began in the pit of her stomach and spiraled through her. It was as if, with that one look, he’d touched her, bared skin to bared skin.

Caitlyn’s breath came harsh and ragged, her nipples peaked, and a deep ache built from her core. God, she wanted him. Memories of their passion in the library flooded her, sending heated longing through her.

Her desperate need must have shown in her eyes, for MacLean’s gaze heated as well and his expression grew hungry. She took a step toward him and his gaze suddenly narrowed, the heat leaving his face in an instant.

She hesitated, and his lids slid down to shield his gaze, a cold, almost haughty expression appeared on his face. He said something and Georgiana looked over her shoulder and laughed.

Caitlyn stiffened with hot embarrassment. She was a mass of confused, uncomfortable feelings and thoughts. She had to bite her lip to halt the tears that threatened. Should she flee and retire to her bedchamber before the tears fell?

But before she could move, MacLean excused himself from Georgiana’s side and walked toward Caitlyn.

Good God, he’s coming here! What does he want? Perhaps now is the time I should ask him why he broke the rules of our agreement? But … do I really want to know?

He bowed impersonally when he reached her.

Something has changed; I can feel it.
Her jaw tight, she managed a curtsy. When she straightened, he was regarding her with all the warmth of a marble slab.

“I was surprised you managed to bring Dingwall to dinner.”

“I told you I’d do it. Did you get the bow from Muffin?”

“Of course. It’s in my room. I’ll bring it down to breakfast tomorrow.”

Every word was chilled, sharp. Feeling as if a large stone were lodged in her chest, she managed a faint smile. “Very well. Did you … have any trouble?”

He shrugged. “Of course not. It’s just a little dog, after all.”

Blast it! That should have been difficult.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he gave her a cold smile. “I’m fortunate in that my valet seems to be a dog hypnotist of some sort.”

“That’s an unfair advantage.”

“When you had the entire female staff at your beck and call? I hardly think so.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her cooly. “We’ve
one more task, and I have my challenge at the ready. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Proceed, then.”

“In the story, the hero donned a costume and slipped into a dinner party to procure a magic harp.”

“I’m to find a ‘magic harp,’ then, which is really . . . ?”

“There will be a real harp in the music ensemble playing for the ball. Lady Kinloss told me about it.”

His air of suspicion increased. “That’s it?”

“Just be sure you don’t trip on your skirts.”

He didn’t move, his expression arrested. “Skirts?”

“That’s part of the task. The hero donned a costume, in this case a woman’s gown. You’re to come to the costume ball in skirts.”

His gaze narrowed. “You would make a fool of me.”

“And you didn’t hope to do the same by sending me to Lord Dingwall’s? You wanted me to return muddied and horse-bitten and—”

“Fine,” he said grimly. “Then your last task shall be just as difficult. At one point in your fanciful story, Olwen disrobed and swam in the fountain to distract a group of marauders intent on capturing her beloved. You will do that for me.”

“At the party! I would be ruined!”

“I didn’t suggest you do so at the party, though that is tempting. No, this last task is for me and me alone. If I’m to take you to mistress, I wish to see you beforehand.”

She shivered at the way his gaze scoured her, as if she were already naked. “I … I could get caught.”

His smile turned wicked. “
You
suggested we choose our tasks from that damned book. Well, I did. You will swim naked for me, or I win.”

Her hands fisted, blood pounding through her at his dismissive tone. “Fine! I’ll do it!” She would, too. It wouldn’t be that bad, as long as no one knew. “I’ll do it late at night, after midnight.”

He shrugged. “You may do it whenever you wish, but you’ll do it. You like to pretend that you’re braver than you are, but we’ll see, won’t we?”

“At least I’m a person of my word, unlike you.”

His smile faded. “What are you talking about?”

“We agreed not to tell the other guests about our wager, and you told the duchess!”

“I did not.”

“She said you did—and
I
certainly didn’t tell her about it.”

“Neither did I. I don’t know how she came to find out, but it wasn’t from me.”

Caitlyn glared at him. “Just admit it. I know you two are—” She couldn’t get the words from between her lips.

His brows snapped down. “My business is no concern of yours.”

Oh! He couldn’t even deny it!
“Once these tasks are finished, I’ll look forward to never seeing you again!”

“Once this wager is done, you’ll see a lot of me—for I shall keep you abed for the entire two weeks, except
when I dress you in lingerie and have you parade before my friends.”

Caitlyn gasped. “You’d do no such thing!”

“Wouldn’t I? For two weeks you will belong to me, body and soul.” His voice was so low and warm that he almost purred. “And you may be right—perhaps I wouldn’t parade you before my friends. In fact, I may not give you permission to rise from my bed at all.”

Caitlyn lifted her chin and glared at him, even as she felt a surprising flare of excited anticipation. She
wanted
more of MacLean, but not like this. “When and
if
I decide to take our … physicality further, I will do it under my own terms and no one else’s.”

His jaw tightened, and in the distance, a low rumble of thunder told her she’d scored a hit.

“You’re sadly mistaken if you think you’re going to have a say in that matter,” he snapped, every line of his body stiff with anger. Outside, the shutters banged against the house as an ominous wind rose.

She cast a glance toward the duchess and found the woman watching them, a pleased smile on her face. Caitlyn forced herself to return the smile. The duchess could smirk all she wanted; MacLean wasn’t with her now. He was with Caitlyn, his entire attention focused on her even though he was angry. She liked his attention on her and no one else, liked it a bit too much, in fact.

Somehow as the days had passed, she’d changed her mind about what she wanted from MacLean and hadn’t even realized it. She no longer wished to prove
herself; instead she wanted MacLean’s respect and admiration. How could she gain that from him when his final task—to swim naked before him—robbed her of those very things? How could she win the contest if she lost the real prize—his respect?

He bowed, his expression icy. “I’ll bring the bow to breakfast in the morning. As to the rest of the contest, we are set. Do you agree?”

“I don’t like the task you’ve set before me.”

He gave her a dark smile. “I know.” With that, he turned and left.

Blast it, she’d have to find a way to complete his final task in a manner that allowed her to maintain her dignity. But how?

Aware of Georgiana’s pointed stare, Caitlyn turned and joined the other guests.

Sometime in yer life, ye’ll have to tell yerself no to something ye may want more than life itself. Tha’ is when the women are separated fra’ the bairns.

O
LD
W
OMAN
N
ORA FROM
L
OCH
L
OMOND TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD EVENING

As Caitlyn crossed the salon, Lady Elizabeth approached asking about Lord Dingwall’s biting horse. Apparently he’d been telling tales, enthroned on a settee on the far side of the room, and Sally and Honoria were laughing at his description of how Caitlyn had made her way into his house.

Caitlyn managed to answer all of Lady Elizabeth’s questions, but it was nearly half an hour before she could escape. She bade Dingwall good-bye, pleading fatigue after her adventures. The old man surprised her with a resounding kiss on the cheek and made her promise to come and see him. She did so with pleasure, and was rewarded with a fond smile.

Then Caitlyn finally made her way out of the room. She had just reached the landing when the sound of feet behind her made her pause. Had Alexander come
to explain his cool reception this evening? Or— “Oh. Lord Dervishton.”

Dervishton’s gaze narrowed. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, no. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Are you retiring, too?”

“I saw you leave and couldn’t allow you to do so without an escort.” He took her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips, his eyes bright. “You appeared a bit bereft this evening. I take it that MacLean has finally shown his true colors?”

She stiffened. “I don’t wish to discuss anything about MacLean, my lord.”

“Of course you don’t, but please, just hear me out.” He still held her hand, his fingers dry and warm over hers. “Miss Hurst—Caitlyn—if I can be of any service to you, please just say the word. I have a carriage here, and if you’d like, I can whisk you away without the slightest effort.”

She frowned. “Lord Dervishton, it’s most improper for you to offer such a thing.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Who is to say what’s proper and what isn’t? I saw your face when MacLean rejected you, and I wished to offer you my protection.”

“Your … protection?”

He placed her hand on his heart, his eyes warm. “Caitlyn, you must have noticed how I feel about you. I am enamored. In fact, I very well may be in love with you.”

“Lord Dervishton, please . . .” It was agony hearing words from one man’s lips that she desperately wished to hear from another’s. The realization made her heart sink even lower. She wanted Alexander MacLean to declare himself to her. She wanted his love, and nothing else. Good God, when had that happened?

Heartened by her silence, Dervishton pressed forward. “Caitlyn, I am not a man of means. In fact, I came to this house party hoping to find a wealthy wife. But then I saw you, and—” He pressed a hot kiss to her fingers once again.

Caitlyn snatched her fingers back. “Lord Dervishton, please! I . . . I deeply appreciate the sentiment, but—”

He kissed her. One moment they were speaking on the landing, and the next he had her against the wall, his arms wrapped about her, holding her until she couldn’t breathe.

She fought against him, pressing her hands against his chest, and turning her head to one side to no avail. “Let—me—go!” she said, fighting for air to scream, to seek help, to do something.

He increased his efforts, murmuring against her mouth, “You will be mine. You will—”

A huge crash of thunder shook the house. A shadow blacked out the light, then Caitlyn was freed as suddenly as she’d been captured.