“This.”
He nuzzled the inside of her wrist, and she all but melted.
“I have no quarrel with the result of that episode,” he added, keeping hold of her hand. “My only regret is that I was so drunk I fell asleep in the middle of it, which was ridiculous of me.”
“Not as ridiculous asmyposition when Royal and the others walked in on us.”
“Would that be lying on the floor underneath me?”
When she tried to yank her hand away, he laughed. “Sorry, love, but I’m sure it wasn’t nearly as terrible as you think.”
“Well, the parts before you fell asleep weren’t,” she admitted.
“So why don’t we give it another go? I guarantee I won’t fall asleep this time.”
She studied his easy smile, wishing she could say yes to him—to them. She longed to be back in his arms, exchanging more than a few stolen kisses. But so many doubts and worries still cautioned her to maintain a careful distance.
A slight frown erased his smile. “Sweetheart, there’s no shame in taking a little pleasure in each other. After all, we’re to be married soon.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He looked startled. “Of course. Why would you doubt it?”
She sucked in a deep breath. It was time to be honest with him—at least about some things. “I have to doubt it, because I don’t know how you truly feel about me. Especially since I think . . .”
“Yes?”
She forced herself to say it. “Since I think you’re still in love with your wife.”
It was a humiliating admission to make, even though she certainly honored his feelings in that regard. But part of her couldn’t shake the worry that Arnprior saw her as a convenient solution to managing his fractious family, a solution forced on him by circumstances and his own sense of duty—to her and to the Kendricks.
When he let go of her hand and reached for his drink, Victoria’s heart sank. He took a healthy swallow before setting the glass aside.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “I’m not in love with her anymore.”
“But you were.”
“Yes, passionately.” He threw her a veiled glance. “Do you really want to know more?”
Not truly, but how could she agree to marry him without knowing how he felt? “I do.”
He grimaced slightly. “Very well. My wife, Janet Lockhart, came from a well-regarded family with a modest estate near the Borders. We met when we were quite young. Her family also kept a town house in Glasgow and my stepmother became acquainted with Janet’s mother.” His mouth curled up in a rueful, almost embarrassed smile. “It’s not an exaggeration to say I fell in love with her almost instantly.”
Victoria squashed an unseemly spurt of jealousy. “How young were you?”
“Very. I was fifteen and she was thirteen. I suppose you could say we were childhood sweethearts.”
“She was also instantly smitten?”
“It took her a bit longer, but by the time she was out on the marriage mart, she was convinced I was the epitome of the romantic Highland laird—or laird-to-be, I should say.”
Now she heard an edge of bitterness in his tone.
“If she saw you in a kilt, I can understand why,” Victoria said matter-of-factly. “Highland garb seems expressly designed to lead impressionable young ladies astray.”
A reluctant chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Since I thought her a veritable fairy princess, I suppose I was as foolish as she was.”
“You were young.”
